Rosalie's POV

The movie reflected my deepest fears. Frankenstein's monster reached out to his intended bride. "Friend?" he inquired. His efforts were met with extreme rejection. As his counterpart shrieked in response to his affection he recoiled, "She hate me! Like others."

The monster couldn't find companionship even with one of its own kind.

I rest my chin on my knees. Watching the black and white images flicker across the wall of the barn, I contemplated my own existence.

Was I nothing more than a monster, cobbled together of various pieces of what I once was?

I certainly felt like a monster. I felt the wild savage beast clawing within me-- a beast who thirsted for violence and human blood. I was beautiful to be sure, but a monster nonetheless.

Could I ever find love? Or as a monster, was I sentenced to wander the earth forever dejected? Who could ever love me? The movie proved not even a monster could love a monster in return.

Honestly, I am still surprised Emmett didn't shriek when he first saw my face, though he might as well. His first words to me were as a knife in my poor, dead heart. "Am I in hell?" he asked. Of course you are… and I was the one who sentenced you here.

By the way, would you like to go steady with the monster who damned you to hell for all eternity?

Then again, maybe Emmett didn't blame me for his eternal damnation. Maybe Emmett truly did enjoy this life as much as he claimed.

It surprised me how easily the man who once reminded me of Vera's little Henry adjusted to his new life. He was always laughing and telling stories. Even so, it was difficult for me to believe anyone could enjoy this life.

Was Emmett truly happy as a vampire? It seemed so.

As I sat, day after day, wracked with my guilt for condemning to hell the one who most mattered to me, he eagerly followed Edward, like a child, challenging him to wrestling matches. Here I was tortured by my existence and Emmett seemed able to make light of everything he lost.

Two years passed since my transformation, why couldn't I learn to love this life as Emmett did?

Maybe it was better for me this way. After all it seemed there was a price for embracing life as a vampire. Not even a week passed since his transformation and already Emmett tasted human blood. It was a sad scene, Emmett killing the salesman. He murdered him and drank his blood. And I was powerless to stop him.

I was very proud… not once having consumed human blood. Perhaps I owed this victory to my deep appreciation of humanity. I would give anything to be human again; Emmett didn't seem to miss it at all. Perhaps this was his undoing. Maybe, if one enjoyed being a vampire it was easier to be a killer.

Was Emmett nothing more than a cold blooded killer? Would he choose to leave our group and pursue the life of a more sinister sort of vampire? Had my attempts to find companionship been in vain?

I attempted to reassure myself the death of the salesman was only an accident. Truthfully Emmett's killing a human was not my greatest cause for concern. Another mortal was dead and I, immortal, was wallowing in self-pity. Could I ever find love? Or was I, as with Frankenstein's monster, destined to live the rest of my days misunderstood -- alone?

To be fair in speaking of love Emmett, like most men, seemed able to appreciate my unsurpassed beauty. Yet once, not so long ago, Royce King found me beautiful as well, yet this did not bring me love.

No… Royce's appreciation of my beauty brought me nothing but regrets and sadness.

I came to loathe my attractiveness, to blame it for what happened to me. I blamed my resplendent appearance for what I had become—cold, barren, in-human. My beauty stood an insurmountable obstacle between myself and love. I was too gorgeous to be appreciated for who I really was.

Were it not for my magnificent looks, perhaps someone would fall in love… with me. Would anyone be able to look past my golden hair and porcelain features to my soul…and fall in love… not with my beauty but with my heart?

No… my exquisiteness distracted men from love, I was something to be owned, not cherished, protected, and adored as I longed to be--as I deserved to be.

I scarcely felt I could ever open my heart to love again. To be so betrayed… so rejected… so abused. It was difficult to trust my heart again.

Damn my foolish heart. I once mistook Royce's infatuation for love, but truthfully I was nothing more than a pretty face to him. What audacity had I to hope matters were any different for Emmett? I doubted anyone could love me for what lay beneath the surface. To suggest otherwise, would be as suggesting one could read a book on the surface of the sun. My loveliness was as blinding as the celestial body.

Would anyone ever love me… for me?

What a curse it was to be the most beautiful woman in existence!

I hung my head in my hands and sobbed tearless cries.

The sound of soft footsteps demanded my attention. I raised my head to see Emmett standing before me. I noted sadness in his eyes as he looked at me. Lowering himself to the floor he sat cross legged in front of me.

For a moment I was stunned by his presence. Oh! How I enjoyed being near him!

I quickly checked my feelings and, protecting my heart, I scowled at him.

"Should you be this near humans?" I accused.

"It's the middle of the night, Rosalie," he defended. "Everyone's in bed."

He's got me there; I came here at night for that very reason. I fumbled with the seam of my dress. Emmett turned to look over his shoulder at the monster projected on the wall. As his final gesture the monster, shedding a tear, destroyed Dr Frankenstein's laboratory along with himself and his mate. I lamented the ease of their situation.

As he turned to face me again, I noticed his face shone brightly. Dimples marked his pale cheeks as he smiled a heart breaking grin. I swooned a little at the sight of him, and then, catching the vulnerability, snapped my stone exterior neatly into place.

"I love movie night!" he gushed enthusiastically. "My whole family used to walk three miles to the Red Barn every Friday to watch movies up on the wall here."

I continued to fumble with the seam of my dress.

"I haven't seen this one before. What is it?" he inquired.

"The Bride of Frankenstein" I responded coldly.

"I remember when I saw the first one!" He exclaimed, laughing. "That was the night I got to first base with--" He stopped short and flashed me an incredulous look.

He chuckled nervously. "So, what are you doing here? Aside from the obvious of course…"

Biting my lip, I hung my head and begun tracing patterns on the floor with my fingertip. I wished my fingers could spell out the words in my heart. I wanted him to know but couldn't bring myself to tell him. I was in pain… I needed comfort. But I didn't want to make myself vulnerable. I didn't want to open myself up to more pain. I didn't know what to do.

"Rosalie, what's wrong?" he asked tenderly. "Are you mad at me for killing the salesman? It really was an accident." He defended.

I shook my head. It wasn't the human I was worried about; it was my own loveless existence that consumed my thoughts. It bothered me to be beautiful and never respected for who I was beneath the beauty on the surface. I was terrified to be alone, and haunted by a future I could never have-- a future with children and a man who would love me as we grew old together.

"Rosalie?" He placed the side of his bent forefinger under my chin and raised my head so I would look him in the eyes.

I stared into his fiery crimson gaze for a moment. Deep emotions played in his eyes and my thoughts spun dizzily about me. It felt as if my heart would spring from my chest, even though it had not beat since the day I awakened as something more than human.

I choked back my feelings and stiffened once more, shrugging my head away from his hand.

The movie reached the end of the reel, and the tape flapped loose on the machinery. I leapt to my feet, wound the tape back, canned it, and then shelved it in the storeroom.

When I turned to leave, I found Emmett standing behind me in the door. His figure was silhouetted by the pale moonlight pouring through the barn window behind him. A silvery halo of light played around the edges of his tall figure. His arm leaned against the door jamb blocking my exit. I made a move to slip past him.

"Not so fast," he said catching one arm around my waist. My heart, could it beat, would shudder in my chest. His touch sent warm heat spreading through my body. I liked the feel of his strong arm around me. My breathing deepened and I felt my resolve slipping... weakening.

Oh! Rosalie! Don't get yourself into this again! He'll only hurt you! I tensed in his arms.

"What's with you?" He asked. His voice was soft… kind and reassuring. The sound of his voice sent thrills through my body. There was a feeling of wild excitement, yet at the same time a familiarity like coming home.

"I can't… I can't talk about it." I stammered and ducked between him and the door jamb making my escape.

He caught up to me at the bottom of the stairs. He grabbed me by the wrist and spun me around to face him. His brilliant red eyes burned into my very soul.

"Emmett! Don't… please," I pleaded with him.

"Rosalie, I won't leave you alone until you tell me what's wrong," he insisted.

"I'm glad you like being a vampire so much Emmett, but I think it's absolutely terrible!"

I blurted out, eager to make my escape.

He stood, stunned, at the base of the stairs as I exited the barn, slipping into the black night, leaving my ember of hope behind me.

******

Your 1930's slang guide -

Get first base - Have initial success trying to seduce someone. He couldn't get to first base with her, let alone score.

"What's with you?" – What's wrong with you?

go steady with – to date exclusively

NOTE: Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Series from which this story is inspired and from which the characters and basic storyline for this composition have been derived.

Reference: Stephenie Meyer's Eclipse

**