CHAPTER NINE
It wasn't a long walk to Vera's, but I had so much to think about that for all I knew it could have taken hours. When I knocked on her door she looked a bit taken aback, but welcomed me in nonetheless. On her arm was cute, little Henry, and I couldn't help but feel a little jealous.
They're nice, he's nice. Her husband was smiling, but also rough around the edges. When I walked past him my fingers brushed his hand and I knew he was a carpenter. They reminded me. Too much, too soon.
I went to Vera and she gave me Henry to hold. He looked at me with wide eyes and held onto a piece of my hair. He probably never saw long hair before. When it came down to it, everyone in Rochester thrived in their social status, so a lot of the women here had short hair in waves. Even his mother. I just couldn't part with my hair, no matter how much my mother first insisted upon it.
I was so enamoured with Henry that I almost forgot about Vera and her husband. I had noticed them from the corner of my eyes, and tried to ignore them. I couldn't. Of course I couldn't.
His hand was on her elbow and he was leaning in close. She was laughing and he was smiling. He probably said something funny. His other hand was on the back of her head. He kissed her forehead and she laughed quietly again, trying to be discreet. I quickly turned back to Henry before they could catch me. They weren't even paying any attention to anyone but themselves. I bet if I walked out the door with Henry they wouldn't have even noticed. Not that I would.
She giggled again and grabbed his head and made him kiss her lips. They were smiling the entire time. He was everything she needed. She was everything he needed. They were everything I needed.
I tried to pay attention to Henry by playing with his hair that I loved. His hair was black and curly and almost as cute as his dimples.
"So Rosalie, when's the wedding?"
I stopped curling Henry's hair and looked up at the couple, who were now looking as if they hadn't done anything moments ago.
"Oh, maybe next week? We're not sure yet. All I know is that my mother wants it soon. It's like she thinks she's the one getting married." I laughed at that and they did too.
Vera came close to me and I reluctantly gave Henry back to her. As she cradled him in her arms she looked at me and asked, "You love him, right?"
"Of course, that is why I'm marrying him Vera. You of all people should know that!" I said to her, half jokingly.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Vera said back, giggling, "I'm just checking, okay? I know your parents, Rose, and I want to make sure you're okay. If you need a place to stay, you're welcomed here."
She was so oblivious to everything with Royce that I wanted to cry. I didn't. I just nodded and I thanked her and she smiled and I smiled and Henry cooed. I wanted to tell her everything, I wanted to tell her more than I told Tommy. Royce and I have nothing on Vera and her husband.
The lack of love killed me—everything we had before: gifts and small kisses and affectionate names and looks were gone. But then I remembered it was what my family needed, and I put them before myself. I just didn't know if I wanted that. And usually, I wouldn't. What I was doing now was against Rosalie Hale's nature. There was someone else in me because I didn't do those kind of things where I put someone else ahead of myself. To survive, I had to depend on myself, but my mother and father—who were avid social climbers—made me think otherwise. They made me scared. They made me rely on other people for things like they relied on me. They taught me that I had to depend on others and they made me depend on Royce. They told me he would provide. And in turn that made me so much more vulnerable, to have someone control me.
That was it. Despite my beauty, my power over others, and the way people would stare at me, I really didn't have it all. Vera did. She had everything I could ever wanted and I would gladly trade it all to just be in her place.
I had a hard time telling people things. I could barely tell Tommy about Royce's drinking, and here I was not able to tell Vera. I couldn't let Vera have something I didn't: a husband, a man that loved her. I wanted that and I was supposed to have that. I had a hard time talking to people—trusting people. I had a hard time opening up to them and letting them know about me, which went beyond my hair and what I wore and the boys I flirted with shamelessly.
I was afraid to let people in. I was afraid to let people see me as the girl who loved to read and cook and take long walks. Beyond presenting myself to others I liked to stay at home with my family and hopefully have one of my own. And the reason I went out a lot was to get people to look at me and stare at me and wish they could have me even though I know and they know they never could. I sought out praise to feel my own worth. Whereas Vera was perfectly content on where she was.
Maybe I was never meant to be happy.
Vera was my closest friend, yet she barely knew half the things about me. I didn't confide in her or anyone, I kept everything on the inside while putting a smile on my face. I didn't tell people things, I had a hard time trusting people. I couldn't let them find a flaw in me and use it against me. I could never let people in. If I did, they would have something that could destroy the best of me.
I needed them to know I was beautiful. I needed them to see me as flawless. In there eyes, I was. I needed to be reassured by someone, and when Royce came, he was my saviour. He made me sane. He made me feel worthy, and that him and I together was only adding to that. I just didn't know if we were the lovebirds I dreamed about.
I was so lost in thought that I found myself nodding as she started to talk about herself, her husband, and Henry, and how she wanted another child. Vera and I talked about trivial things, and I constantly tried to deter her away from talking about the wedding, but she kept pressing on and on. I hadn't given it much thought, only that there would be a small number of guests. My usual extravagant self where I would invite the whole town just didn't seem right with Royce. My mother, however, would have none of that and practically started the guest list herself.
At one point her husband put Henry to be and fixed up whatever dinner they could make. They weren't as wealthy as Royce, so they couldn't have the big dinner like I had with Royce so many times.
"Royce sounds like a handsome man," Vera said, interrupting my thoughts as she leaned in close to me with a smile playing on her lips. She liked gossip, I knew. She thrived in it.
"Yeah, he is," I replied dully, and he was. He always had a fedora hat on, matching whatever suit he was wearing. It was like his signature thing, that hat.
Vera frowned at how much I wouldn't cooperate. She'd been trying to obtain gossip from me for the past however long, but I wasn't telling her anything. I kept thinking about Royce and my parents and… everything.
"Rosalie, are you okay? This isn't you. Remember when you first talked about your wedding? I couldn't get you to stop, and now tat it's actually happening, you're not saying a word. You can stay here tonight, if you would like to."
I didn't know if I wanted to stay the night at Vera's like she offered, because then she would know something was going on. And I knew if I didn't go back to Royce he'd be angry, especially if he was drunk. And if he told my parents they would be livid, especially my mother. The best solution was to just go back to Royce anyways.
"Oh, I'm just nervous, that's all. Wedding's are different once the real thing's about to happen." I smiled, trying to reassure her that I was alright, but I didn't know if she believed it. I wouldn't have. I was lying through my teeth, and I didn't even know if I wanted the real thing to even happen.
We talked some more and I gave her the same short responses. Our conversation didn't last long though, because her husband came out and said their dinner was ready and asked if I was going to stay. I declined their offer even though they both insisted and headed for the door. It was getting late, and I needed to go back to Royce's anyways. I told them he was expecting me, and that wasn't a complete lie.
"Okay Rosalie," Vera said. She walked me to the door, but before I could leave she said, "Oh! I almost forgot something. Rosalie, wait here!" Then she bolted into another room before I could even give her an answer.
When she came back, she was holding something behind her back, smiling. "You didn't mention it at all the entire time you were here that I almost forgot."
"Forgot what?" I asked, twirling my blond hair around my fingers.
"Your birthday! Are you sure you're okay Rose, you're usually more… vocal about these things."
I gave a weak laugh. "You know, nerves and all."
Vera gave a small laugh and stared right into my eyes. "It's not much, but…" she trailed off and showed me what was behind her back.
It was a fedora much like Royce's, except the one she had was pink. I couldn't suppress a smile and a small laugh escaped my lips. "No, it's perfect."
"You and Royce'll match!" Vera said excitedly, probably glad I was happy with her gift.
"Thank you both so much. I should be getting back now—Royce is probably waiting for me. At midnight he'll probably want to celebrate my birthday already. I forgot, but he probably remembered!" I doubted that. I smiled at her and her husband before abruptly turning around and said to them one last goodbye, and that I'd probably come around tomorrow. She said that I was welcomed.
I put on the fedora Vera had given me and walked down the dirt road towards the direction of Royce's house. It was late out. I looked behind me and I wished I hadn't. I saw Vera's husband kissing her cheek. It was soft and gentle, yet passionate at the same time. Something so small was much more than it led on. His arm was around her waist and her hands were splayed across his chest.
Instantly, my heart began to crumble. They must have thought I was already leaving, or they were shoving it down my throat.
I turned and began to walk away. What was I thinking? Royce was my prince, and someday, I would be his princess, just like I always imagined.
I didn't know if I believed myself. On the way to Royce's house I had all the chances to go back to my home with my family—where I probably belonged—but didn't. I kept going. I had to think it through though. I wrote off all the lies and knew I didn't have what Vera had. His kisses weren't as tender and his touches were more rough. Maybe I should just break it off with him?
Beyond his wealth, his looks, and my parents appraisal of him, there was nothing. I couldn't figure out who he was as a person and where his values stood. I didn't know where he saw us ten years from now, or if there even was an us. Knowing him, his future might have probably just have him in it.
But I couldn't leave. My parents needed him in their lives, and I needed him. He was my last chance at happiness because he'd been the only boy in months to court me.
Was love even an option anymore?
I looked into the sky—there were no stars out. There never was. It was dark and the lamps were already on. They were the only way I was finding my way around. I hadn't realized how late it was. If it wasn't for my birthday I would have probably forgotten it was April. It was cold for April. Usually I celebrated my birthday outside all day because it was hot.
Royce didn't even say anything when I left his house. Did he even know?
I tried to not let it get to me, but it did. I tried to think about the wedding. It was about a week away, and if the weather didn't get better I didn't know what we were going to do. Knowing my mother, if there was a tornado she'd still insist for it to go on.
But did I want to marry a man I didn't even love?
Love.
I stopped in my tracks and the cold wind wisped around my body. I could barely feel the warmth of my skin. I knew where I was going—not Royce's or Vera's, but to my own home. I didn't know why exactly, and I didn't know my true intention, but I was heading home.
I could see the cold air coming from my breaths as I sped to my house. I turned once, for no particular reason, and only saw the night behind me. Something about it scared me. I picked up my pace, and soon, I found myself running. I was running from something I couldn't even see—I didn't know what I was running from.
Suddenly, I heard laughing, and under a streetlamp were men, about five of them, all clearly drunk. I tried to hurriedly walk past them, but they noticed me. If I ever wanted someone to not look my way, it was today.
"Rose!" someone yelled, and I knew that voice anywhere. What was once gentle was now deafening.
It was Royce. I should have figured, him and his friends were the only one supplying illegal liquor anyway. They must've been completely out of it to even wander at night clearly inebriated. I continued walking, but caught a glance at who he was with. Will and Owen were there, but also some other faces I couldn't identify. Faces I didn't want to identify.
"Here's my Rose!" Royce shouted and stumbled to me, latching onto my arm and bringing me to them. I was scared, but soon I became angry, angrier than before. I tried to push him away, but his hold was too strong around my thin wrist.
He was laughing and I didn't know why. I didn't bother trying to figure out.
"You're late. We're cold, you've kept us waiting long!"
I knew then that he was completely out of it. Before, he was still somewhat aware of what he was doing, but with the glazed look in his eyes, I knew he would have no recollection of what happened the next day. And I knew I needed to get out before he did something he wouldn't have done if he were sober.
"Royce, I was at Vera's, you know that—"
He kissed me before I could finish and I couldn't pull away. His friends were laughing and I felt him smirk on my lips. I frowned. He didn't notice.
"Where'd you get the hat darling? It looks a lot like mine," he said very tauntingly.
"I got it from Vera, it's my birthday today," I reminded him, but I knew he didn't care.
"Oh is it?" he practically sneered, "Well me and my boys have a gift for you too, for your very special birthday." Then he turned to his friend—one I didn't know. "What did I tell you John, isn't she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?" Royce exclaimed, and John—who had dark hair and was suntanned—leered at me, and I was more uncomfortable than ever.
He was grinning as he stepped closer, and I would've flinched, but Royce was holding onto me too tightly.
"It's hard to tell," he began, his words slurring, "she's all covered up."
They all laughed and Royce pushed the hat away from my head. "Your hair's too pretty to be covered up," Royce slurred before he reached for the jacket he had bought me, brass buttons and all, and tore it off me. While doing so he practically yelled, "Show him what you look like, Rose!"
I took my chance then. While his hands were on my coat I bolted and started for my house. This was a different Royce, more different than a drunk Royce. He was out of control. And I knew I didn't love him, not like I used to, if you'd even call it love.
Royce had tried to grab me, but only succeeding in letting the jacket get caught on my hair, wrenching my roots. I tried not to scream so they couldn't laugh, but I couldn't help it. It hurt too much.
I didn't let it slow me down though. My mind was lulled and dazed that I hadn't realized where I was headed. I headed for the darkness so they wouldn't be able to find me and just give up. I had grown tired, but I kept pushing myself, and I felt like my lungs were going to burst from my chest. My chest itself was burning. There was no adrenaline rush. I was alone.
But I kept moving. I felt myself slowing down, but I didn't care where I was going and I didn't care where I would stop.
I could hear them behind me though. Their footsteps rang into my ears and I felt like crying. I wanted to cry. The cold winds were like frozen hands clawing at me, slowly numbing my body. I wasn't warm anymore and my energy was draining. The footsteps grew louder. The voice intensified. I heard Royce yelling.
Looking around, I had no idea where I was, and I felt death start to surround me. I was shutting down and I didn't even know how to fight. My arms were numb now. I hadn't realized I stopped.
WHAM!
I felt something slam behind me and I fell forward, but I was able to catch myself from falling. I could smell his breath and I knew that touch. It was a touch I wanted to forget, but knew I could never stop remembering.
I moaned, and the contact against my cold and numb arms made me cry out in pain. I wasn't strong, I knew that, but never in my life had I felt so weak. It was hard to breathe. I didn't try to look up.
I could see five pairs of shoes and I knew they were all rich, I could tell just by the shoes. Anything to take the focus off and into something else. I saw Royce crouch down and grab onto my hair. "Your coat wrecked your pretty hair, Rose. Have you been crying? Oh darling, don't cry." He wiped away my tears, but I knew there was no meaning behind any of it. I slapped his hand away and he hit me on the side of my head.
"Royce, when I said she was all covered up, I didn't mean just the jacket," John drawled.
They were insane, all five of them. They were completely out of it. I knew I had to escape. Vera's house wasn't far from here, but then again, I had no idea where I had run off to.
I heard Royce laughing. It hurt. I felt him grab my hair and pull it back roughly. "Kitten, don't be scared. I know how much you love men to look at you. Like Edward, right? You couldn't stop staring at him. I'm only giving you what you want."
"No—"
"Close your head, darling." He was smiling and it made me sick. I tried to say more, but couldn't. I was cold and I felt myself crying.
He threw my head to the ground and the hopeful side of me thought they would leave, thought that I was going to die, but they didn't. I felt Royce's knees on my sides, coming close.
"You're so beautiful, any man would be lucky to have you. You're so—"
Before he could finished I punched him as hard as I could, hitting the side of his face. He stumbled back and I tried to get up and turn so I could run away as the four others stared stupidly.
I heard him say something, as well as the others, but I blocked out their threat and tried to run. I didn't get far because I felt myself heading for the ground again. My head hit the floor and I felt everything around me starting to turn into black. I could still hear and feel, but my eyes were barely open.
I couldn't stop them. My body was numb and cold. I was pinned down, but I didn't know by who. I didn't know if I wanted it to be Royce. I was on the ground and was too shocked to cry, and in too much pain to move. I felt hands, large and rough, and I wished I couldn't feel.
My legs felt the cool air and I knew my skirt had been pulled up. I couldn't kick because someone was holding me down. Then I heard a tearing noise and I knew something had been torn off of me. I tried to push them off and ended up with a punch to the ribs. I cried out and felt someone hit me again.
"Stop it! Royce—" I screamed, but I knew it wasn't more than a whisper that just came out choked. I couldn't see now, I let my eyes close. My head hurt… everything hurt. I felt something on my head, trickling, and I wondered if it was blood. I could smell it and it made me want to vomit. I felt my blouse getting torn open and more hands again. I tried one last time to fight back, and one of them started to punch me every time they saw skin.
Soon I stopped feeling.
Then I stopped breathing.
I welcomed the darkness, as long as the pain went away. But death didn't welcome me, since I was still conscious of what was happening.
"You'll have to find a new bride Royce!" I heard in the distance, my vision starting to blur.
I barely heard someone—who I assumed was Royce—say, "I'd have to learn some patience first!" Laughter, there it was.
Voices went in and out, and I only caught a few words after that. I felt them on me, in me, under me. I didn't want to, but they were there. I felt exposed, cold, and I cried. I didn't stop, didn't try to stop. I tried counting the seconds that went by, but lost count along the way.
Eventually, the hands went away. Pain was still evident, but I was glad they were gone. I could feel the cold wind though. I felt naked. I was shivering. I started to cry again. I couldn't open my eyes, I didn't want to open my eyes, didn't bother opening my eyes.
It hurt everywhere and I couldn't move. I felt broken, and it was more than just my bones. I could move my fingers and I was still on the ground. I tried to breathe, but couldn't. Air wouldn't come in and I knew at one point I stopped breathing altogether.
I didn't know how long I laid there, waiting for the darkness to take over, but it never did. I was supposed to die, that's what they left me for, but then why wasn't I? I couldn't move anymore. I knew soon the pain would be gone though, I knew it would be over soon.
I couldn't think. I felt black seeping into my vision. It would all be over, soon enough. Just when I felt myself fading away, drifting to another place, I heard footsteps. I couldn't react though, I couldn't do anything. I wanted to be gone even faster, so I wouldn't feel it happen again. Why was it taking so long?
I knew he was back for more.
And I didn't remember if it was my own distraught voice coming from my mouth, or just broken words echoing in my head, but I remembered hearing a voice sounding all too like mine say, "Please, just kill me now."
It was unbearably cold. He was so beautiful.