Supplemental #1 – Rosalie's Story
A/N: We never got into Rosalie's story within the original chapters, so here is a tidbit of what our favourite blonde's life was like before she met the Cullen family. Enjoy!
"Mom?" I wasn't sure that I wanted to know the answer to my question, but I had to ask anyways, "Where are we going?"
She had woken me up bright and early. It was a Saturday morning and I was sixteen – 6am was not something that I was used to experiencing anymore and I longed to go back to bed. For some reason though, when my mom had come into my room I didn't question her right away, putting on the dress that she had picked out for me and quickly fixing my hair and makeup. She had been silent since we had gotten in the car and I wasn't sure exactly what was going on, the entire morning was highly unusual.
"We're going to meet a friend of mine, I need you to just do as I say this morning Rosalie," She looked nervous and I nodded my head. Normally my mother was one of the most self-assured women that I had ever met. She had a confidence about her that made people stop and listen when she spoke, respecting her and allowing her room to make decisions while others would still be debating the options.
Those that knew our family knew that things weren't perfect… but they were pretty darn close to it. My father was a high-powered attorney and my mother was a professional socialite… but she also had a brain. I was an only child, although I knew my mother had always wanted a large family. Growing up I had never known what it was like to go without a need and even I can admit that I was spoiled. In a way, I lived in a fantasy world, and I was perfectly okay with that.
"We're going to your grandparents… I need to talk to them." She didn't explain and I was left even more confused. Although I lived a good life at home and was happy with my parents – my grandparents were a mystery. Neither my Mom nor my Dad spoke to their own parents, and as far back as I could remember I had never met any of them at all.
As we continued driving I tried to push for more answers, but my Mom wasn't giving me anything to work with, her eyes trained on the road, the radio playing soft classical music in the background.
By the time we arrived I was a jittery mess. I didn't know what to expect… the only thing I had managed to learn on the way was that we were going to my father's parents' house and that they lived outside of town. Beyond that I was clueless. I didn't even know their names.
When we pulled into the drive I was slightly surprised to find the large home looming ahead of us, for some reason I had pictured an old rickety shack, falling apart but cozy-looking, something with a porch and two rocking chairs out front. This house was the furthest thing from anything my mind had pictured… instead it was a property that seemed to stretch on for miles in every direction around the large home. The grounds were neatly manicured and while there was a porch that wrapped around the main level, it was clean, neat, and modern… there wasn't a rocking chair in sight and I suddenly felt my stomach start to flutter with nerves.
As I slowly began to make my way towards the front door I was surprised when I realised that my mother wasn't beside me, and when I looked back I froze, staring at her as she pulled the duffle bag out from the trunk of our SUV.
"Mom?" I could hear the fear in my voice, there was something going on and I didn't have any clue what it could be, but I already knew that I wasn't going to like it.
She didn't answer me though, coming up beside me and grabbing my arm, pulling me quickly towards the steps and up to the door where she rang the doorbell. In an instant the door was flung open and I was met with the most intimidating woman I had ever seen. For a woman she was tall, and while she was thin, she still seemed to loom over us threateningly – or perhaps that was my imagination, the image I had that matched the iron grey hair that was pulled into a tight knot on the top of the woman's head, her beige clothes simple, classic, and I could tell immediately inexpensive.
"Daphne." She said simply, addressing my mother. She didn't move to let us in, instead she hovered in the doorway staring my mother in the eyes – her steel gray, against my mother's vibrant blue.
"I… I spoke to Henry this morning… he… he's… expecting us…" My mother's response was humble, nervous. It was so out of character that I felt like my head was going to explode. Who was this woman standing next to me, and what the hell was going on? Had I somehow entered into the twilight zone?
"Hmmm…" The woman who I presumed to be my grandmother stood pursing her lips together, as if debating on whether or not we were worthy of entering their precious home.
"I expect that you will address him with courtesy and respect – it's Mr. Hale." She said pointedly to my mom, and then she finally moved aside, pulling the door open further and gesturing for my mother to move inside. As I began to follow it was as though she finally noticed me standing there and I felt her eyes lock onto mine, while at the same time feeling completely exposed, as though she was searching me for something – some evidence of my unworthiness.
"I'm… my name… is…"
"Rosalie, yes I know." She answered quickly and then gestured at me to follow my mother.
After the woman closed the door behind me, she moved to lead us through the expansive house. I looked around curiously as we passed by first what appeared to be a library, followed by a small den, and then finally the living room. As we entered the kitchen I felt my eyes widen at the sheer size of the space, but I didn't have time to dwell on it as we walked right through and out a back door that led us to a large patio space. If it wasn't for the awkward and confusing position I was in, I would have thought I had entered paradise. The lawns were perfectly trimmed with immaculately kept gardens surrounding them, and the multi-tiered patio was perfectly balanced with modern convenience, and yet it also maintained the feel of a country oasis.
"Henry," The older woman spoke briskly and I watched as an older gentleman jumped up from the garden swing, a thick novel falling off of his chest as he did so. With a light chuckle, he grabbed the book and I couldn't help but to smile as he stood up. His bright orange golf shirt contrasted brightly against his emerald green shorts. Adorning his head was a straw hat with an extra-large brim, and on his feet were a pair of sandals being worn with a shockingly bright red pair of knee socks. The biggest surprise at all though, was the smile that he wore on his face. He seemed relaxed and calm, perhaps a bit jovial, reminding me in a way of what I imaged the fictional Santa Claus to look like during his summer holidays.
"Goodness Lila! Bring the ladies down here, let them sit down! Get them some tea!" He laughed heartily as he spoke and I couldn't help but to relax a little bit in his presence. 'Lila' however only scowled as she turned to us, not leading us further down the patio, instead just pointing towards a grouping of chairs and telling us to sit down.
"Daphne! How good it is to see you again!" Henry… or Mr. Hale spoke again, directing his words to my mother who smiled brightly as she sat across from him, her hands folding delicately in her lap.
"Henry, I'd like you to meet Rosalie… your Granddaughter." My mother got right to the point and I tried to smile politely at the man. As his eyes wandered towards me I knew that he saw the same thing that everyone else did. I was the spitting image of my mother – same hair, eyes, body structure, and facial features. To take one look at me, there was not an ounce of my father that could be identified.
"Ah, Rosalie! How good to finally meet you!" In a flash he had stood up and moments later I found myself wrapped in his embrace. Immediately I felt myself stiffen in his arms, not expecting the contact.
Eventually he let go and he sat back down, turning to address my mother and speaking cryptically – at least it felt that way to me as they discussed me staying with them, my mother and father going away somewhere, and Henry assuring my mother that my father only had to knock on the door to return home.
"Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?" Finally I had had enough. I didn't understand a word that they were speaking about and I was starting to panic, knowing by the gist of the conversation that they were planning on me staying at this place for a while, but unable to figure out anything beyond that. My parents had gone on vacation many times over the years, but I wasn't a child and I was perfectly capable of either staying on my own, or staying with my best friend. There was no reason for all of this… whatever it was.
"Rosalie," As my mother turned to me I saw something in her eyes, a flash – perhaps it was embarrassment, or shame… a little bit of guilt, but also a great deal of sadness.
"What the fuck is going on?" I rarely cursed but I wasn't myself at the moment.
"Rose, your father is in a great deal of trouble right now." She began and I shook my head. I almost sensed the disappointment that I would feel coming on once she continued and I wasn't sure now that I wanted to hear it.
"He has been dabbling in things with the wrong people for far too long." She continued and I shook my head, my eyes filling with frustrated tears. "Over the years he has taken money from the wrong people and now I'm afraid we are all in a great deal of danger, as these people catch up with him. There are people who want your father dead unless he does some things for them… he is working on pulling himself out of this situation, but even if he does… there is a chance that he will either be killed or he will end up in jail for the rest of his life." She told me bluntly and I tried to process this.
My father had always been a loving but just man. He had spoken to me many times over the course of my childhood, explaining the law and how to abide within it, how to appropriately challenge the laws that weren't moral or ethical, and how important it was to always live honestly. What my mother was saying did not make sense to me at all. I couldn't validate what she was saying in any way whatsoever.
"Rosalie, I need you to listen to me." My mother was standing up now, she had placed the duffle bag beside my chair and while she spoke to me, she looked like she was ready to bolt back through the house at any moment.
"You will be staying here with your grandparents indefinitely. Your grandfather has the means to protect you and to keep you safe, anything that you need – your trust fund has always been held within their names, so they can help you access it… the money there is clean and from legitimate sources."
"Mom?" She was starting to ramble… listing off things that would change and things that would stay the same. She was telling me about the house we were currently at, the new school I would attend, and then lecturing me about the life I was leaving behind and how it was to stay in my past.
"Rose, I'm so sorry baby." I was frozen in my chair. She hadn't even given me a kiss goodbye… not a hug… not a pat on the shoulder… not even a fucking handshake. I didn't register when I stopped crying or when I decided to tune into and hear what my grandfather was saying.
Eventually he brought me into the house and led me into a bedroom upstairs, dropping the bag that my mother had left behind and leading me throughout the house and the various rooms. I didn't pay much attention, I was still feeling shocked at what had just happened, sure that I was going to wake up at any moment.
But I never did wake up. As the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months I learned to adjust. My grandparents were wonderful to me… the woman who had intimidated me upon my arrival comforting me and becoming a friend as soon as my mother had disappeared. My grandfather spent hours talking to me like an adult, filling me in on the harsh reality of my parents' life – the reason for their estrangement for so many years being the exact reason that I was now estranged from them. As my grandfather pulled the masks off of the people that I had called mother and father for so long, that I had believed were as close to perfect as you could get, he also rebuilt a foundation of trust between himself and I, never lying to me and answering any question that I had, oftentimes with brutal honesty.
Starting life over wasn't easy. I wasn't far from where my fairy-tale childhood had taken place, my friends still close enough that I could have easily called them up and visited them. But things were different now. I wasn't the same girl, and I quickly discovered that I wanted to leave that life behind.
About six months after my parents had gone 'missing', I discovered that not everyone was as eager to let go of the past as I was.
"Rosalie!" I recognised his voice immediately and I tried to turn away and head towards my car. I could see it from where I was standing, but it was on the other side of the parking lot and my hands were loaded up with bags of groceries.
I pushed myself to move quickly and had almost made it when I felt his hand on my shoulder and I stopped, turning to look at him and seeing the questions hidden in his eyes.
"Rose!" He questioned and I shrugged, my hands still clutching the grocery bags. Seeing me struggling he did what I expected and went ahead of me, opening the trunk of my car and coming back to grab the bags from my hands.
"Thanks," I muttered with a smile and tried to head towards the driver's side door, but he was there before I could get there, a smile on his lips as he reached out to press his hand on my shoulder and stop me.
"What the fuck happened? You just… you were fuckin' gone!" He exclaimed and I shrugged again, not sure what to tell him. My parents' faces had been all over the news but somehow I had been left out of all of the media attention… my mother had been right and I knew my grandparents had been the ones behind my protection.
"I can't… I can't explain it…" I tried to keep it simple. Royce King had been my boyfriend for nearly a year before everything had happened – we had been serious but he had often been more demanding than I was comfortable with. When we had begun to see each other he had been charming, with his southern name reflecting what he had spouted off as southern values. It turned out it was somewhat of an act, but I had been strong and always able to refuse – I actually did have values, although the rumours at school made it seem that I slept around with anyone, I had never before had sex. I had planned to keep it that way until at least college, although I was aiming to wait until marriage.
"I'm sorry… I have to go…" I tried to push past him but he held me back, preventing me from getting into the car.
"Where are you going?" He continued to block my path and I took a deep breath to steady myself.
"Royce… please. We're over… just let me go." I demanded firmly.
"I always knew you were just a bitch putting on an act." He sneered at me and I shook my head. "You always did think you were better than the rest of us… but really you're just a fuckin' bitch." He was right. I could be a bitch when I wanted to, but right now I just wanted to get away from the memories of my old life and get back to my new one.
As I pushed past him again, this time not responding, I heard him call me several more harsh and inappropriate names. I didn't feel bad… I didn't regret just abandoning him when my parents had abandoned me. I simply just didn't care.
That evening when I got back to the house I spoke with my grandfather who managed to reassure me without coddling me. He was honest in his words and in his advice, and I felt infinitely better when I settled down for the night. I put the experience behind me, I continued to move forward, I spent my evenings at home and put every effort into my schoolwork – although I much preferred the hands on machinery and tech classes I was taking, I was determined to make something of myself and to do it honestly, unlike my parents had.
As far as I knew I was heading in the right direction, I didn't realise that people could be so full of hatred and vengeance that they would seek me out… specifically that Royce would seek me out to get me back for what he assured me I had done, when I had walked away from him.
Two weeks had passed since I had run into him at the grocery store, but two weeks was not nearly long enough and I knew as he grabbed me that I was in trouble. I fought hard as my former best friend stood to the side with another girl I recognised and watched as my ex-boyfriend and his pack of monsters each held me down, every one of them taking their turns with me in the back of my new school parking lot.
I had stayed late to finish a test and also to speak to one of my teachers about handing in a project that I had completed for extra credit. By the time I had left, my car was the last one in the student parking lot, but I wasn't alone. I fought back as they grabbed me, when my jacket was ripped off my body I threw a hard punch at one of them, hitting him in the face. When I was shoved to the ground and held by multiple sets of hands I fought harder, kicking, biting, screaming, pinching, rolling, and flailing… doing whatever I could… but it wasn't enough.
The part that bothered me most about being raped and beaten by my former classmates, was that I didn't cry. After the previous months of pain and hurt I had experienced thanks to my parents, I was left empty and cold on the ground. It was the middle of winter and I was completely frozen… but I couldn't move… my body was not cooperating, and when I closed my eyes, I was sure it was to die.
When I awoke in the hospital and repeated my story, it was void of emotion… again, there were no tears.
When I returned to school following my recovery, I quickly earned myself a new nickname, often being referred to the Ice Queen… it was public knowledge what had happened, but I did not request nor accept pity because of it. As the boys who had hurt me had been arrested, somehow my grandfather worked to convince their lawyers that a plea was in their best interests… acting in my interest to keep the attack out of the news.
I was okay with that. Somehow I knew that they were not going to hurt me again, and I had a feeling that karma would work back to seek its own balance against them.
The day that I discovered I had become pregnant, despite taking precautions following the attack, I realised I was numb. That was the first day that I wanted to cry and yet couldn't. I didn't know at that point that within two weeks I would be curled up in my grandmother's arms while she comforted me yet again in the emergency room. The bleeding had started early in the morning and by the time we had seen the doctor, I was told there was nothing that they could do. There were still no tears, and although my heart was aching at the entire situation, I couldn't cry about it.
It wasn't that I was emotionless… I felt everything, and I felt it strongly… But overall I had changed. I was not the same girl who had naively hung out at the mall with friends for fun… who swiped a credit card endlessly because my parents didn't care how much money I spent, or where it came from. I no longer looked at people and saw them at face value – instead I sat aloof, usually alone and lived my life to the best that I could, not taking bullshit, and not showing any emotion unless I was at home with the people I loved and cared about.
For the most part it worked. I embraced the Ice Queen reputation and reserved myself for only those who I trusted. I was successful and I earned everything that I worked towards, my grandparents supporting me beyond what my own parents had ever done – their morals, dignity, and respect were something that couldn't be bought by money and I had grown into a very different person, living in a very different world.
During my senior year of high school I picked up extra credits from the local college… it was a crossover program that would allow me to essentially take my first semester of college, while at the same time completing my high school diploma. I eagerly worked at it, continuing on immediately through the summer and taking the next year of school to complete a basic accounting program. While working with my hands was ideal – fixing cars, tinkering with various mechanical engines… numbers were my second strength. Making things balance, checking off columns – it made sense. It was logical, it fit, and everything had a place and a reason.
Following that first year of college I began to feel antsy… I was tired of living in the city and wanted to get out, move to a small town for a while. The program I was taking was something that I could easily continue through correspondence and I was more than happy to try that.
When I told my grandfather he was as eccentric as usual when I approached him with something like this, jumping right into the search for a job and an apartment that would suit me. He never failed to amaze me.
Within six weeks of starting our search he had found me a small house on the outskirts of a little community – it was a stereotypical small town. One school. One supermarket. One gas station. One set of traffic lights. It was perfect. By the time I had officially moved to the small town of Forks I had been accepted in at a small construction company, doing basic payroll and working a basic admin job. It wasn't ideal but I loved it, and the perk of it was that I also got to step away from the desk from time to time, working on sites and gaining certification to fill in, operating equipment when needed.
While the work and the guys that I spent my days with were rough… they were also my family. Little did I know that one of the part-time guys would quickly turn out to be much more to me.
Emmett. He was one of the biggest guys I had ever seen when he walked in that first Saturday morning. While it should have been a warning or a red flag, while I should have been shaking at the mere sight of him… his curly black hair, his smile – the dimples in his cheeks when he looked at me – won me over instantly. I had never felt this way before and I knew I never would again.
I didn't hesitate. I made the first move and he gladly accepted. In a way, he reminded me of my grandfather – not in a weird uncomfortable, eww, he's like my grandfather way – but in a hearty way, his childlike view of the world refreshing, his honesty and morals different from anyone else that I had met. When I talked in bits and pieces about myself, he failed to judge me, listening and taking it in, simply holding me and reassuring me.
With Emmett, life made sense again.
When I met his family, I understood why.
Emmett and I were like magnets from the beginning – we hated to be apart and we were physically close more often than not. Although I had always wanted children, I had never planned to have a child right away, so the first time I skipped a period, I panicked. I should have known better though. Emmett was if nothing, real. He was not only happy about the prospect of being a father, he embraced it – his entire family welcoming both me and our new addition in as though we were made to fit in. I was beyond grateful to be earning a spot in this crazy new family that was filled with their own share of heartache and chaos, especially after I heard the news of the car accident that had killed both of my grandparents. If it hadn't have been for the Cullens, I would have been completely alone.
Life moves forward quickly, and when you aren't paying attention, it is easy to look back and wonder where it went.
As chaos and happiness came and went from within our family, we grew first to include our daughter Haley, followed by little Henry, and eventually Hayden. As Bella and I chatted just after her and Edward's twins Annie and Mason were born, I found myself finally recounting my entire story, able to talk about it openly for the first time ever, unable to stop until it was all out. I understood now how she had felt the day that she first told me the story of her first daughter, Emily. And I also understood how the sharing of experiences could bond us even closer together.
What I didn't understand, and nor would I understand for a long time was how freeing it would be. How it would change my view of the world and soften my outer exterior. I didn't realise until looking back how much I had changed until I really saw the friends that I had gained, the family, the life, and the love.
Many years ago my parents abandoned me. At a time when I was still growing and vulnerable, people who I had believed to be my friends had betrayed me in one of the worst ways possible. When I met Emmett, I wasn't sure that I could stay honest and true to myself, to live the life that I expected of myself following my parents' deception.
But somehow I had managed to survive. Putting one foot in front of the other, I had taken life one simple step at a time. I had become the woman that at sixteen didn't know that I wanted or would feel that I had to be.
But I did it, and all it took was one step forward – together, with love.