Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.


12. Feeling Good

I can almost laugh at my predicament. But then it'd be out of pity, of dismissing this pain that stays. In all my human years, I've never encountered a being with more woes.

Romeo and Juliet died to be together. Death was not inevitable at first, but as complications came, it became necessary for them. As one song goes, they're together for eternity.

Bella and I were not the lucky couple.

"Very well," I muttered. My voice sounded odd—too stressed.

I accept that fact. I'll "live" with it buried beneath this facade. For now, I needed to hunt. This meadow, with its moist grass and fruitful trees, was like a desert to me.

Shaking my head, I tried regaining my senses. I felt lighter than before—perhaps it was the carelessness working on me.

My eyes squint, trying to detect anything to replace my thirst. A good four miles away, I hear voices.

I don't know why I'm still married to this idiot. Never learns… A snappy woman in her forties, was grumbling to her husband about his lack of coordination.

Can't she see these so-called nature walks are painful for me? My back…. Her husband, stout and red from the sun, was holding a walking stick, panting to keep up.

Middle-aged couple yonder. Thirsty vampire nearby. Nothing else was around to drink from.

Hurriedly, I ran to their general direction.

What was stopping me from sprinting full force? Carlisle. That father figure lurking at the back of my mind, unconsciously pushing me to become a better monster. But that's just it. Compassion, self-sacrifice, or mercy would not change me. Those characteristics would only make me seem more human.

But there was something else, some powerful force driving me to end my madness. But it was only my mind, and I'd had many a moment to suppress that part of my conscious.

I ordered my legs faster. The couple was only a few yards away, but I was hidden by all the shrubbery.

I was a vampire, and that was the only identity I would need.

The woman, Natalia, was still occupied with baleful thoughts on her husband. I'd take her first, crashing into her body so she'd be thrown across the trail. The other wouldn't hear me, hear her, because he'd still be thinking about his medical condition.

Without effort, I stood against a tree. I was ready.

Unfortunately, my conscious spoke: Don't do this. You could be less of a beast. Yet it didn't sound like my voice. For a moment, I really believed someone was talking to me by mind.

That only put me into overdrive. If I was going mad, then so be it. My back coiled, and I sprang. Fury drove me faster than before, and it only took one snap to kill the woman.

And my legs? Yeah, Natalia, they're still sore—

He lost his chance to finish that thought.

Two lifeless bodies lain on the dirt path. My eyes took over all the blood seeping from their necks.

It's been too long. I leaned and drank. I could feel the still warm blood going through my body, strengthening my muscles and enhancing my senses. Not only was I relieving thirst, I was gaining power.

I was almost done with the woman, when my conscious interfered. Guilt spread through me. Horror washed my face. What had I done? I'd gone back in time—back to my rebellious years.

Instantly, I retracted my devil teeth. Misleading purity of white, coated with the clear weapon of venom.

But the second I did so, I realized something. I was not going to die. I had nothing to lose. The Volturi probably had advised every vampire existing to not kill me.

Even so, I knew the Cullens would help me.

Drawing in a sharp breath, I huffed. There was no going back now. I drank human blood. I didn't want to face Carlisle, and possibly receive the most disapproving of looks. I would never find out.

Your ways of eating are respectable, Carlisle, but they're not for me. Humans are animals, the most deceiving of creatures, and the most horrid of living things. They're more monstrous than I am, and they do it without physical strength. Emotions seem to be their most powerful weapon—their enemy, their ally. Oh, I knew this all too well.

With renewed confidence, I walked leisurely along the trail, wondering where it would lead to. Where exactly had that mongrel of a girl taken me?

It didn't matter. Everything was new. My eyes have lost their topaz color, and were replaced by crimson.

Taking in all the greens, I started getting agitated. Houses were rare, and most of them abandoned.

Just ahead—well, ten miles ahead—I saw a small group of teenage boys. Their voices were not distinct, but I heard enough, saw enough, to be able to tell: they were going cliff diving.

I was not aware of my location, but if there were cliffs nearby, then there must be more people, more life, in here.

They were fast approaching, wearing long sleeve T-shirts and khaki pants. I was not surprised to find they sneaked out from their parents every weekend to spend time venturing with peers.

"Kyle!" I heard one of them shout. "You gonna go in the big one now? Last time you got all sissy and ran."

Some laughter, then a yelled protest from a younger one, who looked about 14 years.

"It's not my fault I was scared," he rebuked. "Nick said that one of you got injured!"

More cackles followed, and poor Kyle blushed as red as his lightly-tanned skin would allow. Having my hunger satisfied, I was able to ignore the venom forming in my throat. But I felt it running across my tongue...

I shook my head, and squinted at the sun. The blue skies had turned a bit cloudy, but my skin was still sparkling.

"Hey, you see someone out there?" One of the boys said. He was one of the oldest, with shaggy brown hair and a slight stubble. Though his white shirt was loose fitting, muscles showed along his arms and calf.

The others squinted, trying to search for a possible someone. I quickly (well, for human speeds) concealed myself in the forest.

When they had passed, bringing their laughter with them, silence filled the unoccupied air. I continued my walking, wondering what I wanted to do then.

I was not thirsty; my appetite seemed to be a low priority. My survival was not an instinct; it was a bother.

Increasing my speed, I tried to concentrate on the passing fields, the heaviness of the calm day. No birds were singing, but no danger was present at the moment.

What was I to do? The boys' idea of recreation planted the idea in my head. Cliff diving it was.

In a minute, I was looking down blue and white, all in a violent mixture of rocks and currents.

Free falling over fifty stories was not a problem. Even then, the seclusion was not unwelcome. It was her.

When she had foolishly let her thought-up loneliness and sadness lead her to a cliff similar to this. After that subconscious act, I was forever indebted to Jacob Black.

What was it she'd said had happened? That when she put herself in danger, she heard my voice tell her to do otherwise?

"Well, Bella," I almost sneered in my hysteria, "will you do the same for me? Even if my danger's only in the head?" I closed my eyes, willing for the music to course through me, just like in a dream I once had. But gentle winds whispered inharmoniously, rattling my clothes and ruffling my hair slightly.

"Here's to everything," I said, with fake enthusiasm and a grim smile.

I stepped forward from the edge, and the waters zoomed nearer. But relishing in the present, I actually smiled. It was as if I was in the past, only a few years ago, and I was Bella, jumping for the sake of jumping. I was beyond preternatural—I felt like I was dying. Vulnerable, as if anything could happen in those few seconds. Maybe a plane would crash right into me, and I would burst into pieces. An atomic bomb could land somewhere near, and I would steadily approach it...

Of course, like all good things, the moment ended.

But right there, with my head underneath the harsh ebb and never-ending flow of the river, I hoped that everything would be just fine.