I'd drive my car off of the bridge,

If I knew that you weren't inside
Put the pedal to the floor, who could ask for more?
A fantastic way to kill some time
If you could lay on your back and be beaten
You could put up your fists and fight
You could try anyway…

-Handcuffs- Brand New

The empty feeling that filled my heart with dread grew simultaneously with my thoughts. They were never ending, and with each passing second they grew more panicked and frenzied. My eyes were open but non-seeing, the cornea burned with the tainted images I finally remembered. And the voices. I could hear the sound of chatter and rushed thoughts forming into words, but I couldn't distinguish the meaning.

And this is how it was like for two days. It could have been two hours, maybe two years. All I knew was whatever trance I was in, refused to break as I fought against it…

Until I finally stopped trying.

I let my mind rest, and suddenly I was bombarded with what my senses couldn't handle. Smell, feeling, taste, sight, and voices gone haywire as I finally registered my surroundings. What I had wanted these two painful something's.

And if it wasn't possible, I felt even worse than before. My body was an empty shell which desperately needed to be filled. I had never thought about, never considered death until now. I begged for it, as my bruised hands gripped at my chest. Sobs filled the air, and I couldn't catch a single breath. Oxygen couldn't get past the lump in my throat. It seemed as if nobody was there until my fingers became tangled in my hair. I ripped at my scalp until I felt hands rip my own away. Blood was pooling at the roots, and I finally realized the danger I put upon the Cullen's. The disgusting smell of iron filled the air, like a sickly sweet penny dipped in water.

And this is what they ate.

I wanted to throw up, anything to distract myself from the smell that covered me, but I knew nothing would come out of my stomach if I tried. Finally I was forced to face the person who was trying to spare me this pain, and was surprised to see Rosalie staring me in the eyes. Out of all the people in that household, why would I wake up to her?

But with her stone hands gripping my wrists, I saw what I needed to see.

Her. Covered in blood. Blonde locks covering the ground below her. Black eyes that didn't compare to the darkness hers possessed today.

No, she wanted to kill me. So desperately, she was having an internal war. Kill the burden her family has been forced to deal with for the past year, or pity the human who just went through something nearly as devastating as she had.

Before she had the chance to redeem herself and choose, Alice was tearing her from the room. I wanted to say something, but my voice was dry and hoarse. I held my hand out, as if to say 'It's okay', and Alice stared at me strangely. She had stopped in her tracks, a slender arm still holding onto the furious blonde.

I grabbed my throat and looked at Rose, and Alice let her go to hand me the cup of water I frantically needed. I gasped when the cool water hit my throat, but welcomed the feeling.

"She changed her mind, and wasn't going to hurt me." I said softly, taking their silence as a sign to continue. "And Rose? Our pain isn't the same, not in anyway. You could compare and contrast, and wind up with different situations. The only thing that's the same is the ultimate desire to escape. Don't pity me; I don't deserve half as much."

My throat was begging for my words to stop, my brain going crazy trying to operate on such little air. Black faded in and out of my vision, until familiar hands wrapped around mine.

And no matter how much I wished for the end to arrive, this was the reason why I couldn't. Because with his fingers laced in mine, I realized that my death would eventually be his too. And something as insignificant as me killing off such a gift to the world, well, that would be the second time I ruined that chance.

Before I dozed off, I kept trying to tell Edward that he wasn't the one to blame, that he was perfect and I destroyed the lives of his family and my best friend. Even though my voice was now unwilling to corporate, I felt like he knew. As if my message left my fingertips and imprinted on his brain.

And I slept for hours; sharing my dreams with the man I loved, let my nightmares swarm his thoughts. I was the worst kind of selfish, tearing him down with my pain while he only tried to build me up with love. If things had been different, I'm sure I would have been thrilled with this new wave of communication. Instead, I sent him a warning:

"You aren't the only one destined for hell."