Brady's eyes were in wide, shock as he stared down at the deceased body of his best friend. His hands fumbled against the handcuffs strapped to his belt, "Dad, what are you doing?" Jasper approached his father.
"Emmett killed someone!" Brady shouted, opening his cuffs, "I'm arresting him!"
Aro held his wrists together, "If you arrest him, you'll have to arrest me too."
"He killed a man!"
"Now you want to do your job?" Rosalie pulled herself out of her mother's arms. She approached the commissioner, and stood eye to eye with him, "You had plenty of opportunities to do your job."
"You did nothing wrong Rosalie," he assured, stepping around her, "I am not arresting you. I give you my word."
"It's pathetic how you think your word means something to me. And I don't give a shit if you arrest me or not, but you can't arrest Emmett!"
"And why not?"
Jasper reached forward and gripped his father's arm, "Dad, if you arrest Emmett, you'll have to arrest me too. I held Royce Sr. down." He put his wrists together and held them out, "So go ahead…arrest me."
The commissioner thought to himself. He glanced over Jasper's shoulder and spotted Emmett. He couldn't bring himself to arrest his own son, but at the same time, he couldn't allow for Emmett to get away with cold, blooded murder. Brady shoved his son to the side, "Emmett Cullen, you have the right to remain-"
"You can't arrest him," Rose pleaded, racing to her boyfriend.
"They killed the mayor!"
"No they didn't!" Rosalie affirmed, arms wrapped around Emmett's shoulders and her face buried into the crook of his neck. She refused to let go. Brady would have to pry her from around him. She wasn't going down without a fight.
Brady tried to pull her back, "Don't play that game."
"Rose is right!" Lillian stepped forward, backing up her daughter's statement.
"What game is this are you all playing?" Brady folded his arms, and took a step back, "Let's see, if they didn't kill the mayor, who did?"
"He killed himself! The grief of what he did to my daughter was too much!"
Brady argued Lillian's lies, "He was murdered!"
"You're right," Rose turned, and made eye contact with her mother.
"But, he was murdered by you," Lillian finished her daughter's thoughts, "you shot the glass to make it easier to push him out of the window. I saw you! Aro?" she looked at her ex-husband.
Aro nodded his head, "I saw it too!"
Brady shoved the handcuffs into his pocket. He had an empty gun strapped to its holster, and bullet casings spread throughout the mayor's office and the outside parking lot. The commissioner took a look around at everyone, and they were all for backing up Lillian's story…everyone except for Royce Jr. Brady smirked and approached the mayor's son, "He knows the truth."
"How many people will believe him when I say what his father did to me?" Rose gently pulled herself from her boyfriend's arms, "Or what about when I say what he did to me?" She smiled harshly at the twenty-six year old, "I know what you did to me Royce."
"You told her?!" Royce Jr. glared at Lillian.
"I was wrong not to tell her. I should have told her in the beginning. She had a right to know."
Rosalie began walking to Royce Jr., "Your dad deserved what he got." She watched him as he shut his eyes closed and shook his head, "He hurt me Royce. Justice had to be served. I just need your word that you won't say anything. Please, I just need you to do this one thing for me." The mayor's son looked into her innocent eyes, and every part of him urged him to agree. He could never deny the look on her face. He's known that look for years, and it never grew old. How could he deny those eyes? How could he deny her?
"Remain quiet," Aro interjected himself into the conversation, "and leave town. Don't ever come back here. If you agree to those terms, you'll be perfectly fine. You have my word."
"And if I don't?" he was afraid of the answer.
"…then me and you have a problem."
Brady stepped between Aro and Royce Jr., "You're threatening him in front of me?" he pointed over Aro's shoulder at Emmett, "I don't care what anyone says! I'm taking him in."
"…then you're taking me in too." Jasper stepped in front of his best friend.
Rose stepped in front of Jasper, "and me."
"Don't forget me," Alice stood beside her boyfriend.
"Me too," Lillian took a hold of her daughter's hand.
Aro stood in front of the line of people, "And me." The eldest Hale smiled at the angered look on Brady's face, "and you know, whether people believe us or not, they'll be curious. Why would Emmett just kill the mayor? Why would I push him out of a window? Why would Lillian stand by my side? Why would Rose be involved? Why would your own son turn against you? I'm sure everyone in this town will love to find out what we have to say about it."
"Rose…" she blinked out of her reverie, and focused on her husband, waving his hand in front of her face, "are you alright? You zoned out there."
She grinned widely and nodded her head, "I was just thinking about," she took a deep breath, "the day Royce Sr. was killed."
Emmett's arms wrapped themselves around her upper body. She wrapped hers around his lower, "I love you," she smiled as she whispered those words into his ear, "and I'll never forget what you did for me."
His lips pressed against her cheek, "I love you too." Emmett pulled himself back, and gave her a once over, "Are you okay? I heard word from Collin; you'll be out in ten minutes."
"I can do this. I got this. Right?" she looked at him for assurance, and at the nod of his head, she released a deep breath, "Why do I feel like I'm about to implode?"
"Hey, I'll be with you every step of the way." He nudged her side gently, "I was there with you five years ago, and I'm here with you now. I'm going to make a phone call and then go see where Collin is, you stay here, and try not to think too much. You'll be fine." Her husband of two years leaned forward and pecked her lips before walking away.
Rosalie felt butterflies flutter her stomach and in an attempt to forget about how nervous she is, she allowed her mind to drift off to another memory. Her eyes zoned off as she remembered being discharged from the hospital.
If she were to never see Forks General Hospital again, it would be too soon. Two months in a coma, and two months conscious staying in a hospital was more exhausting than one would think. The day her dad wheeled a wheelchair into the room, and she sat in it for the last time, her body grew a burst of adrenaline. She was ready to go home since the day she woke up. Aro held the chair in place as she adjusted herself, "We'll be going to your mother's place. I'll stay there as long as you want me to stay. Your mother and I bought all of your favorite foods. Alice brought over your favorite movies." He stooped low beside the wheelchair, "I'm so excited to have you come home. You don't know how happy I am that the strength in you allowed for you to fight and come back to us. If you want something, anything, just ask for it. I'm so happy that I don't care what it is."
"When she was nine," Lillian grinned as she walked into the room, "she asked for a pony."
"Do you still want that pony?" Aro joked, rising back to a standing position.
Rose took a glance at her mother and then her father, "To be honest, right now, I just really want to get out of here. I've been around sick people for far too long. And I miss my bed…oh, I miss my bed so much."
"Yeah, we should get you home so you can get some beauty sleep."
Rosalie scoffed, "Why the hell do people even call it beauty sleep? Half the time I can't even get to sleep and when I wake up I look like shit."
Aro backed the chair out of the room, and Lillian led the way. Rose waved at her previous attending nurses, Lauren and Eric, and before she departed from the hallway, she thanked them one last time. They appreciated the gratitude. Aro wheeled her up to the automatic doors, but left enough distance between themselves and the door so it wouldn't automatically open yet. He watched as his ex-wife lowered herself in front of her seated daughter, "I'm sorry baby," Lillian pushed a few strands of Rose's hair behind her ear, "I just wanted to say that before we headed out into that chaos. You have a long road of physical, mental and emotional recovery ahead of you, and we'll be there with you every step of the way. I love you."
"I love you too mom," Rose smiled, genuinely, as her mother rose back to her feet.
Lillian walked over to Aro, and took a hold of his hand, "Let's get out of here."
The feeling of a tap against her shoulder broke her out of her reverie. She turned to see Collin standing in front of her, "Are you ready?"
"No, but I will be," she assured, wrapping her arms around her waist, "What if I screw up and say something wrong?"
"We'll just brush it off and blame it on your inability to control your sarcasm." He laughed.
"The sad this is," she tightens her hold around her waist, "I'm not sarcastic. I really mean the stupid shit I say. I just don't want to go out there and look like an idiot. I mean, my name isn't Willy Wonka, I don't sugar coat shit. I tell it like it is and people aren't that receptive to it."
He snaps his fingers in front of her face, "Hey, you need to stay calm."
"I can't. You should know that remaining calm isn't a quality my parents possess, and unfortunately that was passed along to me. I don't have that luxury." She brought her arms up and crossed them against her chest, "We've never done a Q&A and comments session before. I've always been in control, and I'm not in control of what comes out of their mouths. I have a habit of getting offended pretty easily, and my first instinct is to defend myself, verbally. However, it may not be the best time for that, and some of the things I say, is pretty unpleasant." She pressed her hands against her face, and sighed, "I should have this under control. I'm claiming it, today; I'm going to pretend to be the angel my mother raised me to be." Her hand lowered, "now, where's my husband?"
"He needed to take care of something," Collin rested his hand against her shoulder, "You'll be fine. You got this. You are courageous, dedicated, driven and strong."
"You've only known me for two years."
"And in those two years, I've witnessed how much you've grown. When you came to me, you were a lost soul. You were all over the place. You were broken. You were not the woman standing before me today. I got to see you grow and strengthen."
Rose wiped at the corners of her eyes as she pulled him into a hug, "Thank you." She held him tight and silently cried tears of gratitude into his shoulder, "Thank you so much Collin. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."
"Hey, we're all here because of you," he encouraged, drawing himself away; "Today would not be happening if it weren't for you Rosalie. You'll be out in five minutes. I'll go grab Emmett and then we'll be back to walk on with you." Once he departed from her surroundings, she resumed her memory.
Rosalie stared out at the passing trees. It was summer, and her teachers had all saved the work that she missed. Jasper was bringing it over. Once she finished, she could resume her schooling without being held back. She was looking forward to being home, joking around with her friends and just moving on. However, she did miss the visits. Rose saw her house as they pulled into the driveway. Within seconds, she heard the backdoor open and her mother help her out. Rose glanced down at her shorts, and her scarred legs that were a forever reminder of her ordeal, "Can I have a few seconds…alone?"
Aro grabbed her overnight hospital bag, "Are you sure?"
"Please." She gave him a reassuring smile, "I'll be fine. I just want to enjoy this feeling…I'm finally out of the hospital for good," her toothy grin stretched across her face, "I can walk. My partially shaved head is now covered by the hair that has finally grown back. I can breathe this fresh air. I can look at my house. I won't be long, I promise. I'll be in, I just want a few seconds to appreciate all the things I took for granted."
"We'll be inside." He waved for Lillian to follow, and while initially she was hesitant, she did oblige. She needed to remind herself that her daughter was a big girl, and this was definitely a good sign.
Rose glanced down at the pathway to her house. She looked out into the street and remembered where her dad had parked the day he dropped her off. Rosalie could see Jasper's house or his old house from her position in the driveway. Every part of her had wished that they came to the hospital to be with her during the discharge, but Rose understood why that didn't happen. In the midst of her internal struggle, life does go on. Rosalie took a small step towards her house, and her eyes continually fall upon her scarred arms and legs. She took another step, and many steps began to follow until she stood outside the front door of her home.
The seventeen year old hadn't been here in forever. It was almost unfamiliar to her. The emphasis is on almost. This was her home of many years and she couldn't forget it no matter how hard she tried. The porch swing to her right and the potted plant to her left were reminders of how everything stayed the same in her absence. She only hoped that the inside would too. Rose took a grip of the doorknob, twisted it and pushed the wooden door open, "WELCOME BACK!"Her eyes scanned the large crowd stuffed into her living room. Her family, friends, classmates, neighbors, church friends and cheerleading team were all present to welcome her home. She was temporarily speechless, "What…is this?" A small smile tugged at her lips, "Mom, dad," she walked inside, looked around and spotted her parents, "you did this."
"We didn't," Aro shook his, and pointed behind her.
She turned on her heel and spotted her brother, "James," her breath hitched as she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as her body allowed, "Jamesy." With all of the chaos over the last few months, she had completely forgotten, "You're here," she cried out, burying her face into his shirt, "I can't believe you're here! Welcome home!"
"I should be saying that to you," he pecked her forehead, as he pulled her in closer.
Tears falling down her face startled her from her memory. She was such an emotional sap. It was five years ago today that her entire world had changed. She ran her sweaty palms down her red dress as she flattened it out, "Are you ready?" She jumped, as she turned around, "I change my mind. I can't do this." Her head shakes dreadfully.
"Of course you can," Emmett pulled her into his arms, "I'll be beside you the entire time. All you have to do is talk. The people out there are here because they want to hear what you have to say. You wrote a best-selling book Rosalie so your voice could be heard; and now it is." He pressed a quick kiss against her cheek, "This isn't your first time speaking. You've spoken around the country; you've spoken at seminars and justice rallies."
"…never with that big of a crowd Emmett. I've spoken at gatherings with there being at most…20 people." She rested her forehead against his chest, "We're in New York city Emmett. We're from a really small town. It's congested here. I'm scared to death. Over three hundred people bought a ticket. That's way more people in our freaking town."
Emmett used his thumb to urge her head upwards in order to gain her attention, "That's right. Over three hundred people bought a ticket to hear you speak. You are an advocate for women against sexual assault. You are a role-model. You are an author. You are a woman who channeled her aggression, her downfalls and the unfortunate thing that happened to you in a positive way."
"You know it wasn't easy," she pressed her eyes closed in order to get rid of the tears.
"I do know that," he pulled her in even closer than before, "you're here to let them know that."
Rose exhaled a long breath, "You of all people know the rape and the beating was only the beginning. The healing process didn't come easy for me. It's one thing to write about it, but to speak of it. I'm ashamed."
"Hey," he presses his forehead against hers, "everything you went through in the past five years got you here today. And while you've never had to speak of the details before in your other speeches, there was only a matter of time. It's one thing for everyone to read what you went through, but to hear it is a whole other thing."
"I just wish my parents were here, Alice, James and Jasper too."
"I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
"It's not that I don't want to talk about how I feel, it's just that I don't know how. I'm used to being the rock, not the one who needs it."
Rosalie gently pulled away, and raised her hand to cover her mouth. This was the first time she spoke at this big of an event. She was scared to death. She wanted to run out of the nearest exit. She was willing to refund everyone their money, and more, if they would just forget about this entire event. It's one thing to talk, but there's a Q&A session that she doesn't think she'll be able to handle. Emmett's heart broke at the look in his wife's eyes, "Talk to me, what's wrong?"
"They're going to ask me questions," she admitted, her voice low and nervous, "What if something doesn't make sense and they question me on it?"
"Answer them to the best of your ability. Remember that's what your publicist said…"
She took a hold of his hand, "My publicist doesn't know everything. Emmett, they might ask what happened to Royce Sr. I implied that he just disappeared. He left town."
"Say what you need to say."
"I won't give you up if that is what you're insinuating…"
He cupped her face, "I don't care what you say as long as it makes you feel better."
"The statute of limitations never runs out on murder Emmett," she sets her hand on top of his as his thumb gently rubs her cheek, "I won't do it. I need you. We need each other."
"Say what you need to say. No one can tell you that you're wrong."
"Alright Rose," Collin, her publicist, pokes his head into the room, "we're heading out in a minute. Are you ready?"
"We were just discussing the fact that I can't do it." Rose shakes her head. Her palms grow sweaty as she begins pacing the room.
"Yes you can," Emmett pecked her cheek, "Remember babe, the bigger the storm, the bigger the blessings."
"Well, I've been in this storm for a while now. I have great expectations."
"When you go out there," he points towards the opening walkway, "remember to breathe."
Her breathing grows to an abnormal pace as she begins pacing faster. She hears loud chatter in the audience. The clicking of her heels sped up as she walked around the room, "Rosalie," she stopped at the sound of Collin's authoritative voice, "Two years ago, you came to me with a manuscript. You pleaded for me to hear you out. You had a voice that no one let speak, and you had a story to tell that no one listened to. I took a chance and I listened. What did I say? What did I say to you that day?"
"Everyone will tell me that I'm strong. At the end of the day I will have two choices." she repeated his words from two years ago.
"What were the choices I gave you?"
"Get up, go on and fight or lie down, give up and die."
"And what did you say to me?"
She swallowed hard, "I'm not ready to lie down just yet."
The two listened in as Rosalie was introduced by the host. She smiled at the description of herself. To hear words like that from a man she met half an hour ago did more for her esteem than the five years of her parents coaxing and praising. After a brief introduction, Emmett took a hold of his wife's hand as the two walked side by side onto the stage. A podium rested in the center, waiting for Rosalie to approach it. She drowned out the standing audience and the clapping of their hands as Emmett leaned over to whisper assurances into her ear, "You got this," he released her hand as she approached the podium. There was a huge turnout of people. Emmett stood next to Collin, a few feet behind her, and the two chimed in on the clapping. Her mind flashed between the present as the smiling faces grew wider, and the past as some sympathetic frowns reminded her of the aftermath.
The arguing continued as the sun began to slowly set. Rose ignored the threatening words of her father and the warnings of Brady as she watched Emmett ease his way over to her stepfather. Her boyfriend presses his hand against his forehead, as his lips tremble and quake in guilt. Royce Sr.'s mouth rested wide open as the blood around the open orifice started to dry up. His eyes remained wide open as he stared into an abyss of darkness. The mayor was truly dead, and by his hands. Emmett feels the familiar hand of his girlfriend slide into his hold. She says nothing as her head lies upon his shoulder.
"Dad, if you care about our relationship," Jasper growled, pressing a hard finger against his father's chest, "you wouldn't arrest Emmett."
Rose remained beside her boyfriend, "You have to drop this Brady, and so help me God, if you don't, I will do everything in my power to convince everyone that you killed him." She releases her boyfriend's hand, and begins approaching Brady, "Initially people will assume I'm lying, but then everyone here will back me up. It'll get to a point where people will start doubting you because how could quarterback Emmett kill someone. Why would he?" she smirks evilly, "They'll ask you that Brady, I hope you're prepared to tell them the answer. Why would my boyfriend kill my stepfather?"
Rosalie backed away and returned to Emmett's side. She retook a hold of his hand, and pressed a kiss against his knuckles, "No matter what happens, I'll be with you every step of the way." He wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulls her in and presses a kiss against her temple.
"Wait!" Royce Jr. finally spoke up, "we have a deal," he dreadfully approaches Aro, "I'll leave town on three conditions," Aro extends his hand to shake on it, but not before Royce Jr. states his terms, "No one can ever know why I left and what happened between me and Rose," he sees her roll her eyes as she nestles herself under her boyfriend's arm, "I need money, at least enough to sustain me until I can find another job, and the third term," he looked at Brady before looking back at Aro, "I was never here."
Aro shakes his hand in agreement, "Alright, pack up and get a move on things…in order for this agreement to work, you need to be gone by morning."
"I think you have a problem Brady," Lillian approached the town's commissioner, "hopefully you're willing to forget what happened because if not," she takes a look back at everyone, "we have all of these people willing to say you killed the mayor."
The clapping grew in volume and broke her out of her memory. It lasted entirely too long. She took a glance throughout the audience and saw her book rested on the laps and in the arms of the spectators. There was a backdrop behind her of her book cover, and she couldn't help but smile at herself on the cover of it. She was standing tall and firm, in a teal dress, her hands on her hips as the book cover photo captured the scars running down her arms, legs, neckline, and the one running from the top of her forehead to the tip of her left ear. The teal dress was the representative color of sexual assault awareness. Her curled blonde hair framed her face perfectly as the large smile on her pictured face urged the crowd to cheer harder. She tore her eyes away from the book cover, "I know," she began to speak as the cheers died down, and people took their seats, "I know most of you are here because you've read my book, heard about my book or is planning to read my book. Some of you are here because you felt a connection to my story. Some of you are even here because you're doubters. And regardless of what brought you here, I want to thank each and every last one of you for allowing me this opportunity to come before you and tell my story. I'm a twenty-two year old, small-town girl, and when I pictured my future, I definitely did not see this. I never knew I would be standing in front of three hundred and fifty people in New York City. My town had 124 residents. My graduating class had fifteen people in it. The small town I lived in everyone knew everything about you. Everyone judged you for your faults. If someone in your family did something wrong, they judged for that too. My town thought it was perfect, and once that perfection is threatened, people turn their backs on you. That was the life. That was how it was to be in the small town I lived in, and I was fine with it…until it personally affected me."
She took a quick glance around the audience once more, "Everyone knew the details of my rape. Living in a small town, I didn't have the luxury of privacy. I was in a coma for two months. I could barely walk for weeks. I had a mini-stroke. And those who have read the book only know that that's only the beginning. The moment life kicked in for me was the day that I woke up and everyone resumed their lives. I'm glad that they did; don't get me wrong, but for me I was stuck with my thoughts. The small town that I lived in was the same town that I lost friends, family and loved-ones. A week after I was discharged from the hospital, my mother signed me up for counseling with my now mother-in-law," she spotted Esme in the audience and gave the woman a nod of the head, "and I tried for months to work with her. I met her two times a week for seven months before I quit my sessions. It wasn't working. I was on a downward spiral and I didn't think anyone could help. All of my relationships were impacted. My grades in school suffered. I quit all of my extracurricular activities. I stopped volunteering and I quit work. The only reason I still passed and graduated was because my teachers felt sympathy for me." Her hands fidgeted against the podium, as she gripped it, "One day, I thought to myself that the only way I can start to move on is if I get justice from everyone who had something to do with it. I spoke. I used my voice, but no one listened. Out of 124 people, 97 of those people assumed I was lying. 97 people called me a liar, a slut and an attention-seeker. It didn't bother me, at least not at first. I never got offended when people said mean things to or about me. I understood that they are simply dealing with their own inadequacies, and because of that, I prayed for them." Rose smiled at the many nodding heads in the audience.
"In the beginning, I convinced myself to ignore them and fight it. However, fighting it got me nowhere. Fighting it got my ex-best friend Bella, and her mother Renee arrested, and the two served a measly amount of six months in county jail. That's where fighting it got me." Rosalie had to remind herself about how far she has come. She took a glance down at her smiling face on the book cover. Within seconds, she looked back up at the crowd, "Fighting it, also got Brady, the commissioner of my town at the time, arrested, and when he was tried in front of a jury of his peers, he was found innocent. The day he was found innocent was the exact same day that Bella and Renee were released. Fighting it got people showing up at the jail and courthouse to support them. Fighting it made my life worse because the days that followed were pure torture. The town was divided between people who believed me and people who didn't. I was blamed for ruining the lives of the mayor, the commissioner, Laurent, Bella and Renee. People wrote letters, they text me, they left not so pleasant voicemails and they followed me around, tormenting me…and I said nothing. I said nothing to no one. I suffered in silence and ignored it. I thought if I didn't say anything, it would all go away. In my book, on some of the pages there are copies of the notes and screenshots of the texts that I received, and while many may just downplay them and write them off as simple name-calling, they need to keep in mind that wounds may scar the flesh, but words scar the soul. I'm a nice person. I consider myself as a decent human being, but every once in a while, I get to a point where I've had enough and I get mean, and I become a completely different person. Everyone in my town went to church, read the bible, and quoted scriptures daily, however those were the same people who refused to believe the truth, they ridiculed me, and they treated me like I was nothing. And it doesn't matter how many Sundays you sit in church or if you think you are saved. God sees what you do and how you treat people because that is what matters."
Clapping filled the audience and the loudest of the claps she could hear from behind her, coming from her husband. She smiled through her watered eyes, before continuing, "My family may be a lot of things, but weak isn't one of them. I learned how to hide it. I didn't want to be seen as feeble, frail and pathetic. No one knew what I was going through mentally. No one knew, not my parents, my brother, my best friend, not even Emmett. And after several weeks of trying to heal physically, emotionally and mentally, I…I couldn't deal with it anymore. I couldn't take it. I never got a chance to heal from what happened to me, and then I had the townspeople shoving their beliefs of their so called truth down my throat. It was all just becoming too much. I just wanted the pain to go away…so one day," she took a deep breath, "while I was home, I took some pills. That night I just wanted all of the pain to just stop. My body was still going through an unpleasant healing process, so my doctor prescribed me some painkillers the day I was discharged. The night I attempted it, Bella and Renee were released, Brady was found innocent, and fliers calling me the town liar was posted on my locker. It said God hates liars. And that night, I knew I couldn't live like this. In the beginning, I just took a pill to relieve me of what I was feeling, but it didn't work…so I took another, and another, and another, and before I knew it, I took the whole bottle of painkillers." As she continues telling the story, she thought back to that unfortunate day.
James burst through the bathroom door. He heard the water running, and the overflowed tub spilling water onto the tiled floor which eventually leaked into the hallway alerted him that something was off. When he opened the bathroom door, he saw his sister's pajama-covered body floating face up in the water, "ROSE!" He rushes through the puddle of water, and grabbed her soaking wet body, "No! No! No!" He turns the tub water off, and pulls her onto the tiled floor.
He presses his ear against her mouth, and hears barely any breathing. James pulls out his cell phone and immediately calls the paramedics, "This is James, I need an ambulance for Rose. We're at my house. Get here quick! She's not breathing!" He tossed his phone aside, and began applying CPR, "Come on Rose," he starts, but there is no response, "Come on, and take a breath for me!" He continues the CPR until he notices the empty pill bottle floating pass him, "No! Don't do this to me Rose!" He picks up her soaked body, and races out of the bathroom, "No! Just hold on…please! Hold on for me!" James barely sounds audible due to the choking sobs he was struggling to hold back, "I can't lose you." He sets her down onto the couch, "Come on! FIGHT!" James lowers his ear to her mouth and hears shallow breaths. She was getting even weaker as time passed.
"Where are the damn paramedics?" He lowers his hand and checks her pulse. It's weak, but it's there and that's what matters, "Come on Rose, just hold on," he runs his hand through her wet hair, "They're here." He sees the ambulance pull up into the driveway. Jane and Alec, the two paramedics of the town raced into the unlocked front door of Lillian's home, "Where is she?"
"Right here," James pointed down, as she lay resting upon the couch, "She took some pain pills and fell asleep in the tub. You have to save her."
She broke out of her reverie as the memory faded away, "As you all are aware, I survived. After the doctors saved my life, I resented James for it. I didn't speak to him for an entire month because he saved me. Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?" She pushed back the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, "After I was saved, I thought about it. I thought about suicide every second of the day, because even when I think it's getting better, something happens to make it worse. And after my failed attempt, my family and friends knew something was wrong. I was angry," the passion could be heard in her voice as she watched a few of the audience members wipe tears from their eyes, "I was filled with so much rage and when my brother saved me, I knew I should have been grateful, but at the time, I didn't see it that way. I saw it as him wanting me to stay alive so I could continue suffering. I saw it as him subjecting me to the bullshit this town delivered." Her eyes occasionally made eye contact with some of the audience members, "I just wanted for someone to help me move on," she ignored the two cameras recording her in the back of the auditorium, "I needed someone to notice that I wasn't okay. However, after my suicide attempt, I was just thrown back into therapy. The reason why my sessions with my therapist didn't work was because I wouldn't talk. I could not talk about what happened to me. I refused. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was afraid that if I told someone, I would breakdown and I wouldn't be able to get back up. I was afraid that I wouldn't want to get back up. It didn't work for the last seven months, and it still didn't work for the next three ones either." Rosalie lifted the microphone from the podium hold and held it up to her lips, "After I quit that session, I knew I was a lost cause. The anniversary of my attack approached and I couldn't handle it. That year it fell on a Sunday so everyone was in church. I convinced my parents that I wanted to be alone, and they obliged…only because my first attempt was months ago and they thought I was passed it. I thought me being alone was for the best, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I felt numb." Her breath began to hitch as she struggled to continue on. This was a process, and being able to tell her story was healing, "I went to church, and the church in my small town is huge because that's where a lot of us spend our free time. I decided to go to the roof," she felt her husband approach her from behind and wrap his arm around her waist, "I went to the roof and I just looked over the ledge. I stood there for thirty minutes thinking about the pain going away. I remember church letting out, and Bella saw me first. She got everyone's attention and they all stood there, staring."
While this was not Rosalie's first time giving a speech about her ordeal, it was the first time it was in more detail. Usually someone had to read the book in order to find out everything, but with the large turnout, and the time slot she had to fill, she knew it was time for her to tell everything and use her voice to connect with those who feel speechless. Rose set the microphone back in the hold, "Bella and Renee tried to apologize to me, but my dad yelled for them to shut up. He knew I didn't care to hear what they had to say. I was sobbing and my parents and friends tried to talk me down. I could barely see them through the tears in my eyes. My mom was crying. My dad was begging me to step back. Emmett," she nodded her head in his direction, "was pleading with me not to do it. I told them that I wasn't strong enough to live and deal with this. Ten months of therapy didn't work. The pain pills did nothing. Constantly seeing Brady, Bella and Renee were reminders and I couldn't live with it."
As Rosalie continued the story, she thought back to that time. In concurrence with her verbal account of the day, her mind flashbacked to the actual visual of the tale, "I can't do it! I can't go back to my normal life! My mind won't allow me to move on! I keep trying, but I'm not strong enough to get passed this. I can't act like everything is okay! I can't pretend that nothing happened!"
"We don't want you to," Aro strained his neck to look further up at the four floor drop, "We want you to yell at us, break stuff, curse someone out, anything, but keep it to yourself."
She took a step closer to the ledge, "Dad, nothing's going to work. I tried everything. And I can't live like this anymore. I just want for this to be over. I'm tired. I'm so tired."
Before her next movement, she heard the roof door open. Her brother stood under the threshold, holding his hands out as he moved in closer, "Talk to me. Come on Rose. I came home for you. Before I left for the military, you made me promise to fight. You had me give you my word that I would do anything to stay alive and come back to you and mom. I did."
"James," she turned around to face him, while remaining on the ledge, "I never made the same promise. You're stronger than me."
"That's not true," he shook his head as he examined her appearance, "Let me help you. Let me be there for you."
Her mascara was running down her face. The wind blew her hair into frenzy as it sat erratically on top of her head. Her clothes were baggy, but that was nothing new. Since being released from the hospital last year, she's been wearing clothes that were two sizes too big.
"Rose," James inched forward, "what happened to my innocent little sister?"
"She died around this time last year."
"Rose-"
Rosalie took a step closer, "No! You don't get it! I've heard everything! It's not your fault. It is your fault. You did nothing wrong! You could have avoided this! And you want to know my favorite that I continually hear; sometimes bad things happen to good people." She took a glance down at the ground and saw her parents angling themselves below her, "I was going to throw you a welcome back party. I used my entire paycheck to buy food from the grocery store and decorations at Laurent's shop. I walked a hole into my shoe just to get to the store and back, but I didn't care. I didn't care because you were worth it. I wanted to do it for you, and that is the most selfless thing I could think of to welcome you back, but he had to ruin it. He ruined everything and I hate him for that."
"He deserves your hate."
"But he's not here to feel the wrath of it!" Rosalie clenched her hands as she turned to face forward. She saw the townspeople all observe from the bottom, and no one said anything. They watched in shock, as she closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath, "This isn't your fault James."
Rose closed her eyes and leaned forward. She heard gasps and shouts of protest fill her ears as her body left the ledge. Within seconds, contact with the ground was made, and when she reopened them, she was laying on the rooftop, "You have to stop saving me."
"No can do," he rose to his feet, and wiped the grime off of his church clothes.
"I never knew a real hero until my brother became one, however at the time I didn't need rescuing. I didn't need a savior because sometimes you have to be your own hero. One would have thought I got better after that, but the negativity overpowered the positivity in my life," she got her voice together and swallowed the lump that formed in her throat, "I was the girl who tried to kill herself twice. The small town I lived in shunned me even more because suicide is considered an unforgiveable sin. There was nothing I could do that didn't result in them making me feel like a social outcast. I found it amusing, sad and pitiful that one's honesty and character can be attacked by individuals who have neither. I was forced back into therapy, but this time it was five days a week and on the fifth day of every week my parents and brother joined me." She smiled softly at the memory of their family sessions, "At home, I was alright because I had my parents and brother there to be with and distract me, but they had jobs and my medical bills were more expensive than one would think." She took another deep breath at the memory of just how far off she was years ago, "I blamed myself for that too. I was my biggest enemy because at the end of the day, the townspeople went home and I got a break from them, however I was forever stuck with my mind."
Rosalie felt a weight lift off of her as she continued her speech, "I didn't talk. My sessions were filled with me and my therapist staring at each other. She would ask questions and I wouldn't answer. It was a bit awkward," she smirked, "however, after one of my sessions, before I left to go home, she pulled me to the side and said, the only thing that's worse than pain is the pain that has to be suffered in silence. Since I couldn't bring myself to talk to her, she recommended that I write it all down. I was told to write down everything. So I did. I wrote down what happened to me, how I felt, what led up to it, the impact it caused, who was involved, how people treated me afterwards, my suicide attempts…everything!"
Rosalie's fingers brushed over the cover of her book, "I kept it hidden in my room for three years. And I did feel a little better because I would add to it over time, but it all changed, two years ago, the day Brady was reinstated as the commissioner. For three years, I was improving. I was getting better. I realized that you can't please everyone. The people who lack the skill to accept their own faults are often the self-proclaimed experts in explaining the faults in everyone else. I took classes at the community college a little outside of town. I got engaged to my high school sweetheart, and eventually we got married, but one day I saw Brady arrest some high school kid for shoplifting, and I couldn't believe how screwed up that was! Brady should have been the one in handcuffs along with my stepfather! However, that didn't happen! That is the small town that I live in…the small town I live in gets justice if a sixteen year old kid steals a banana from the supermarket, but it judges a woman for trying to rise up and get justice for her rape. The small town I live in shuns those who don't agree with the collective opinion, and because of that they torment you and make you feel not wanted." She felt the sadness go away and anger take its place, "I went home. I grabbed the typed manuscript and I drove into the city. The first publishing agency that I saw, I ran into, but I was turned away. I was turned away from four businesses, before I ran into Collin's publishing agency. The entire ride there I was on the verge of tears, and the four rejections didn't help. By the time I walked into the office, and went up to Collin, I was crying." She smirked to herself, "I didn't know him at the time, but I went up to him, slammed the manuscript down in front of him and said that I want to get this published. He started explaining to me how there's a process and it doesn't work that way. I wanted to start the process as soon as possible, but he told me that I needed an editor and the public has to be interested and invested. It needs to sell. Publishing companies only publish books that will make revenue." She looked up at the ceiling and smiled as the memory played out in her head.
Her hand rested atop of the thick manuscript situated on his desk, "It needs to sell," she repeated, lifting the stack of typed pages up, "I was raped by my stepfather, who happened to be the mayor of my town, in the middle of an abandoned campsite. He called the commissioner; they beat me to a pulp and dumped my body in a river. I was supposed to die, but someone found me. I was in a coma for two months. I had a stroke when I woke up. I couldn't walk for weeks. They covered it up. People in my town helped them do it. I tried to kill myself…twice. I was obviously unsuccessful." She held her manuscript out towards him, "The justice system failed me, so now, I have to take measures into my own hands."
Collin's face looked surprised. He glanced down at the stacked papers as she slowly set them back down. His mouth was agape as his wide eyes took in her appearance, "I am-"
"I summarized my over two-hundred page manuscript in less than thirty seconds."
He picked up the pages, "How old were you?"
"I was seventeen."
"What made you want to do this now?"
"Brady, the commissioner of my home town, he was recently reinstated," she sighs to herself as her body leans against his desk, "I don't have a voice in that town, especially because everyone respects him. People rarely listened to what I had to say, and that's a product of it."
"You've been through a lot at such a young age…"
Rosalie gave him a kind smile, "Someone once told me that the challenges that enter in our lives aren't here to break us, but to make us." She saw the respect and the interest in his eyes. It pushed her to continue. "Over the past three years I had to cut a lot of people out of my life. I cancelled my subscriptions on friends and classmates because they had too many issues that impacted me."
Collin chuckles silently to himself at the lightness in her words, "You are making light of such a serious conversation."
"I hear I'm pretty good at that," she shrugs her shoulders, "Some people have a problem with it, but there will always be that one person who accepts you for who you are," she smiles down at the wedding band wrapped around her finger.
"I don't even know your name."
"Rosalie, but you can just call me Rose."
"Rose, from what I hear, you're making a lot of accusations in your book."
She shakes her head, "They're not accusations if they're true."
"No offense Rose-"
"No offense just means you're about to offend me, and I'm going to have to be okay with it."
Collin rose from his seat, "I was just going to say no offense because when this comes out, there is always a possibility for a lot of backlash. I want you to be prepared for that."
"Does that mean we'll publish it?"
"Yeah," he sets his hand upon her shoulder, "Everyone will tell you that you're strong. And at the end of the day, you'll have two choices, either get up, go on and fight or lie down, give up and die."
She swallowed hard, "I'm willing to fight. I'm not ready to lie down just yet."
Rosalie walks around the podium, holding the book tightly in her arms, "There's no time limit or expiration date in getting over something like this, and while the scars that are present on my body are permanent reminders of what I went through, they're also reminders of what I survived. I was supposed to die that day. And no I don't want sympathy or for anyone to feel sorry for me. The small town that I lived in felt sorry for me enough. And I hope my story reaches the ears of those people who really need to hear it, because that's what I'm here for. Never regret anything. If it's good, it's a memory, and if it's bad, it's an experience. I'm here for the people who feel as if they have no voice, because you do. We all do. And when things like this happen, they change us," she nodded as her arms held her book tighter, "I do miss the girl I once was, but she's still here. She'll always be a part of me. Chapters end and new ones begin. Sometimes we need to let go of what's holding us back from starting a new chapter, and for me, it was the small town that I grew up in. I couldn't stay there and be successful. Their mentalities wouldn't allow it." Emmett approached her, and rested his arm around her waist, "And that's the story, that's my story of The Small Town I Live In," she held up the book as her eyes read the title.
"It's time for questions and comments." Collin announced, walking off of the stage in order to prep.
The young twenty-two year old glanced down at her book cover. She couldn't pull her eyes away from it. It took years for her to embrace the scars on her body. It took time for her to smile and feel genuinely happy. Her fingers ran across the title, The Small Town I Live In… it was originally written in her town, and after moving away, she considered changing the title to a more past tense version, however Collin thought it was best to leave everything the way it was originally written. It was pure passion and emotion in her book and he didn't want to change a single word. She flipped the book over and took a long look at the close up of her face printed out on the back book cover. The scar stretching from her forehead to the top of her ear shined brightly as the flash brought out every scratch and blemish. It was real. She didn't allow the photographers to Photoshop her wounds away. They were a part of her story…they were a part of her healing. She opened the book and saw the dedication to her family and the friends that stood by her side and fought for and with her. If it wasn't for them, she wouldn't be here today.
She could hear the staff of the auditorium prepare the microphone to be passed around to those with questions and comments. As she waited for them to finish, she continued examining her book. The first chapter titled The Day My Life Changed caught her eye. The first line was the date of her attack. The following paragraphs were about her day…her good day and the excitement behind her brother's return. As the readers continued to read, they noticed a shift. She wasn't afraid to call people out by name, especially those who were involved. Rose skipped to the colored photos, depicting a picture of the Welcome to Forks sign, which made her glance back at the book cover. There she stood, smiling brightly as she leaned against the sign that welcomed unlucky people to her town.
"Before I ask my question, I have a comment to make," she closes the book as she hears a familiar voice, "I'm speaking on behalf of myself and those standing beside me," she looks up in shock, "you have made us-"
"Dad," before he could finish his compliment, she spoke into the microphone. Aro stood in the center of the audience walkway with her mother, brother, Alice and Jasper all standing beside him. She didn't wait for a response as she rushed down the stairs of the stage, "mom and dad."
Within seconds impact was made, and her arms swallowed her parents into her hold. She buried her face between their forms and fell content within their embraces, "You made it!"
"We haven't missed one yet," Lillian pecked her daughter's head, "Why would we start now?"
"How," she took a step back and looked around at her family and friends, "How did you all get here? Mom and dad, you missed your flight here two days ago. James you got called back to duty. Alice," she turned to her best friend, "you just started your new job yesterday, and Jas," she took a glance at her other friend, "you used up all of your vacation time. How did you all get here?"
"Ask your husband," Aro nodded his head in the direction of Emmett approaching, "he made it happen. He flew us all in early this morning. We got here ten minutes before your speech."
"I love you," she mouthed to her husband before he pecked her cheek.
"Should we resume?" Collin spoke into the microphone from the stage.
Rose briefly hugs her parents, "Of course."
As Rosalie walked onto the stage, she heard her family and friends walking behind her. They were going to remain behind her as a woman approached the microphone in the audience walkway, "Hi Rosalie, I'm Tia," the middle-aged woman waved.
"Hi Tia," Rose greeted the slightly older woman.
Tia smiles in response before clearing her throat, "I admire your dedication and strength. What you are doing is amazing." The woman wrapped her fingers around the microphone stand as she continued, "I just got your book a few days ago, and I'm a little after the tenth chapter. I'm curious to know, what became of the scumbag that hurt you?"
"I like to believe he's suffering in hell."
Laughter filled the auditorium at her response. The irony of it brought laughter from her family and closest friends. She chuckled silently to herself, "How come something is always funnier when you are not supposed to laugh?" Tia remained at the mic, signaling she had another question.
The crowd heard Tia clear her throat, "I just have one more question and then the next person can come on up." Rose nodded as Tia continued, "Your small town, you have history there. In your book you said that it will always hold a part of you, and the cover is even the picture of the town's sign. The townspeople knew you for your entire life. They've known your family line for generations…I guess what I'm trying to ask is, I know that no matter how family treats you, you still care about them. And I was wondering, does any part of you still care?"
Rosalie took a quick sip of her water before sitting it back down onto the podium, "I do…I do still care," she shrugs unashamedly, "I care for them…not enough to jump in front of a bus, but I'll throw a rock at it at least to slow it down." Tia giggled into the microphone, before turning on her heel and heading back to her seat.
Rosalie smiled at the sight of the next person approaching the mic, but at the sight of one of the auditorium doors opening and the familiar face of a man she hasn't seen in years entered the room, the smile dropped. She saw the older and aged face of her former step-brother as he raced up to the stage, "We need to talk."
Rose turned the microphone off, "What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk."
"We had an agreement," Aro growled, slowly stepping forward, "You didn't hold up your end of the bargain. Backstage, now." The angered father pointed into the direction, however the now thirty-one year old didn't move, "Don't make me force you."
Royce Jr. took a glance at his surroundings before walking into the direction of Aro's pointed finger. Before Rose could follow her family off of the stage, Collin gently grabbed her arm, "Who is that?"
"Royce Jr." she answered, and by the nod of Collin's head, he understood. He watched as she followed her family off of the stage, before turning to face the audience. As her publicist and friend, he had to stall, at least until she could return to the podium.
Rosalie was on Royce Jr's heel as he walked backstage. She reached forward and grabbed his arm, turning him around to face her, "We're not supposed to be seeing each other. You are not supposed to be here. What are you doing?"
He started, "I had to come see you-"
"Don't make me snap. With you I am one step away from being on the news." Rosalie growled, slapping her hand across his face, "Please, don't tell me that you are here to profess your undying love to me."
"No," he shakes his head, "I wouldn't do that to you." Everyone can tell he's flustered as he continues, "You look good though," he eyes her, forcing her husband to step forward.
"What the hell do you want Royce? Why are you here?"
"I have to tell you all something that you need to know. I couldn't call, and it's been hot topic about Rose's speech today so I knew where everyone would be."
Lillian growls, "Just spit it out already, because I'm not going to lie, I'm seriously contemplating how much you're worth going to prison for." She stood chest to chest with him, refusing to back down, "So just quit beating around the bush, and get to it."
"I got a call," he swallowed hard, "from the coroner's office in Port Angeles."
Alice left Jasper's side as she approached the older guy, "Port Angeles? That's the next town over from Forks, why did they call you?"
"They're a larger city than our small town," Royce started to explain, grabbing an unopened water bottle from the backstage refreshments table, "Apparently a decayed corpse was found on the road outside of Port Angeles, the coroner ran some tests and it was identified and it belonged to my father. I got a call from them." He took a large gulp of water, "They want me to come into town to get questioned. They find it suspicious how I haven't spoken to my father in five years, and didn't report anything. I think they're ruling his death a homicide. And they're going to want to talk to you all too."
"Us," Jasper looked around, confused, "Why us?"
"Because according to the state his body was found in, they said he died around five or six years ago…that's around the same time Rose woke up from her coma and started pointing the finger at my father."
"You're saying that like I lied."
"No," Royce voice falls flat, "I'm not saying that. I'm just saying we need to think about this. They'll eventually reach out to you, and want your alibis and your statements. We got away with it for five years…and now our luck has run out."
Jasper shook his head in disbelief, "My father will handle this. He is still the police commissioner, and even though we haven't spoken in five years, if we go down, he goes down too for covering it up."
"The Port Angeles police are conducting the investigation since his body was found in their jurisdiction. Your father has no power over this. And they are against handing the case over to our small town because we don't have the resources, and ever since her book came out," he points angrily in Rose's direction, "there's a lack of trust with our police in town because she insinuated they're crooked and covered it up."
"Because Brady did!" Aro defended, taking a step in front of his daughter, "Okay, Royce, obviously we can't see eye to eye, and while I'm usually more of a fist to face kind of guy, we do have better things to discuss. What are you going to say?"
"The truth…"
"What?" Rosalie quickly glances at her husband, "You can't."
"At first I was willing to lie," he pulls out his car keys, "but I'm done with the lying. I'm over the threats. I'm done living in fear and regret. I should have said something that day, but I took the easy way out. I'm prepared to suffer the consequences for my part in it." He began walking in the direction of the exit, ignoring the shouts of his name and yells of protest.
"We're screwed," Rose looked at her husband in a panic.
James stood quiet the entire time, completely confused, "Screwed? Why? What the hell did you all do? Did you kill Royce Sr.?"
"It's a long story," Rosalie breathed a sigh of frustration.
Aro pulled his daughter into her arms, "I'll take care of it."
"We don't need any more bodies' dad," Rose laid her head against his chest, "I finally get my life together. I'm married. I have the best job and I'm making a great salary…and now it's over."
"It's not over," Lillian rested her hand against her daughter's back, "Remember sweetheart, it's not over until we say it's over. You're only twenty-two, your life just started, trust your father and I when we say we'll handle it. Don't worry about it."
"But Royce Jr.-"
"He's a problem," Aro agreed, brushing his lips against his daughter's forehead, "and problems always get solved."
A/N:
This is the end of this story; however, I've received messages to do a sequel. The sequel will be titled Web of Deceit and will be published as soon as possible. Keep checking in and I hope you all continue to read the sequel.
-Tiffany.