So, I wanted to move forward. I needed a stopping place for New Moon to end. In the books, New Moon ended in March and Eclipse began in June. Those moments were just filled with Bella finishing up schoolwork, and it felt a little boring to write about, especially with her busy work schedule along with Jacob's, as well. I believed last chapter was a good stopping point for them, for now. Now, I'm very excited to write this part. I don't know If I'll be good at it, because his mind is more profound than I could comprehend to write, so here we go (: I am no Stephenie Meyer, all rights to The Twilight Saga are hers. Enjoy!(:

P.S. this is an excerpt from Meyer's work. I rewrote it, using the same context, and same voices. But just detailed it a little differently, but not changing much, except important key notes.

Chapter 30: Missing Pieces

Edward POV:

Looking out the window, in the small attic of Rio De Janeiro, the streets were muggy, dark, and cold. Only a few crowds walked past every now and then, and a little boy who hung by the small market across the street begged for food. It wasn't always food that he had begged for, other times it was money, and other times it was small objects. He was just a young kid, who seemed to be upset with the world in which he lived. Time passed by as he counted the people who turned their heads as to not acknowledge his existence. These small objects he would collect, he would hold onto in his pockets, keeping them, looking for those who passed by that he had counted throughout the months. When he did notice them, he would fling these small objects every once in a while, at them. Of course, the ones who passed by who decided to leave him with no remorse, would call the police to handle the little boy, but they never took him. For show, they would put him in their vehicle, and drive around the block a few times before dropping him back off, but they showed remorse for that young boy, for I had not.

I stood there, for what felt like a long time, staring out that attic window, watching those who pass by, watching the boy, watching the festivities that were held down the road, just listening. I scanned through each of their minds daily, just for a few distractions. A few distractions to occupy myself from the failure that I entailed on my existence. The failure of failing my beloved, who I tried to redeem myself for by caring more about her existence than my existence with her in it. Carrying for her happiness, while mine hollowed away in the sewer. Caring for her smile, her future, her dreams, while my life stood here, motionless, staring out this bleak window down at the muddy cold road in Rio De Janeiro.

Distractions, I told her. Distractions would keep up my mind, my wandering thoughts, but those distractions seemed to fade in and out at each failed attempt I went through trying to catch Victoria. The times where she had run through a small portion of New Orleans, where I had met up with Alice, after I lost her tracts. The time searching for answers from an old friend of Jaspers, Maria, through the Colonias and San Antonio. The times I spent tracking her towards a mere barn, which forced me to feel the dread to give up, until I was led here, in this small attic in Rio De Janeiro. The rats were all that filled my appetite. I felt no need to hunt anymore, as I had failed Bella, trying to find Victoria. I didn't deserve a meal, anything particularly more divine than a rat. The stench emitting from their fur, the feces that glazed their paws, was all I could hope to be worthy of.

The phone in my pocket vibrated, which would mark the twenty-fifth time within the last twenty-four hours. There was no news that I could bear to care to hear. Just more mere pleads for me to come back to them, but coming back would still not fill the emptiness I felt without her there, greeting me when coming home to my family. My family couldn't feel whole again, without her there, and the pain that struck through Esme's eyes, as she stared at me, couldn't be forgotten, or shaken off easily. It merely felt close to death, to see her pity me. I didn't deserve pity, I deserve wrath, and hatred for the life I brought on to Bella. I let the call ring to voicemail.

I stood there, still standing, motionless for what felt like a century, out of that small window in the dark attic. Looking down, at the muddy streets as crowds walked by. The air inside the small attic was humid, and filled with rancid smells of cooking, raw decaying meat, human sweat, and pollution that hung low, and visible in the air outside of the window.

The sounds of the crowds speaking Spanish nearby, bouncing throughout the building walls, into the attic window. Meaningless, those words were. All of it, meaningless.

My mere existence was meaningless.

This world that spun with me on it, was meaningless.

I had no idea of how much longer I could stand here, watching, listening as the locals passed on the streets, watching people's lives continue on around me, while mine was almost over, until the only thing that brought life to my existence laid her final breath. Maybe time had just done that, passed by me so fast, that I never knew how much time really did go by. Had my world already grown old, and filled its life with new generations, new loves, new adventures that I never forced myself to be a part of. No, of course it had not, the rats that lied in the corner of the attic had not decayed in bones yet, or into dust. They were still intact as I had left them a week ago. Decaying, but intact.

Maybe my attempt to stay away was vastly hopeless. Maybe my attempt was doomed to failure anyway, and I should go back...

The idea, of going back, going back to where I once left her, going back to the meadow where I felt pure hunger, but satisfaction by her presence, was powerful — so healing. The dream contained a strong aesthetic, washing away a fire of pain, washing away several centuries of anguish and guilt, that it made me gasp, and dizzy.

All I would have to do is exit this attic. Leap through the window and run to my old beloved. I could go back, and I could leave right now to do so. To see her again, the smile that I've held close and tight behind every blink of my eyelids. The smile she so generously gave me, with welcome, forgiveness.

Nevertheless, I could not go back. I could not ruin her happiness to suppress the pain I felt. She should get everything she ever wanted in life, to smile, a future, free of me, free of the danger I would bring to her. She didn't deserve that kind of life that I could give her, the life I so selfishly wanted to give her. A life with me, forever, until her heart beat its last drum.

Bella would go on, her pure soul would lift, and she would feel peace, and bliss, to a place she truly belonged after death. What would this bring me? A life without her, a life I could never allow to go on, my own. Behind the ash, would I continue to feel the torture? Would the pain linger, even when I was scattered into this decaying crawl space?

I promised her, I promised her to have the life she deserved, and I'd be damned to break that one mere promise I could give her. A life that wasn't haunted by danger, bringing my demons and undesirables. I couldn't go back on my word. But the idea still lingered across my thoughts, the idea to go back to my once home to see her, to see her safely tucked away in her bedroom, through the window that I came through on countless occasions. To see her happy, and full of life for the wonderful world she would create for herself.

Just to check, but to not interfere.

No, Damnit, no. I growled under my breath. Forcing my forehead to strike against the stone walls in the small attic space.

The phone vibrated again,

"Damnit, Damnit, Damnit" I scowled, kicking my foot against the rat carcass that lay below the windowsill. The carcass oozed over my leather shoes that were falling apart at the sole. I looked down at the phone, with it facing down into my palm. The vibration rumbling through my arm.

I could use the distraction. I turned the phone over on my palm to a now facing up position. I flipped it open, and familiarity, but confusion seared over me as I looked at the Caller ID. Why would Rosalie call me, of all of my family? She had to be enjoying my absence, to be enjoying a life that I wasn't affecting. There must've been something truly wrong for her to be dialing this number. I feared for my family in this small open window. I hit the send button.

"What," I asked sternly through the receiver.

"Oh wow. Edward answered the phone, I feel so honored."

With the tone she used on the other end of the line, it only seemed she wanted to amuse herself by intruding on my hollowness. She must be bored, but with now profound boredom she seemed to indulge onto me, I knew my family was fine.

I snapped the phone shut.

"Leave me alone," I whispered to nobody.

Of course, the phone vibrated again.

Maybe she would continue calling if I ignored her, maybe I could displease her with my lack of answering just like she displeased me with her tone. Calling me for no particular reason. After ignoring the first call, she proceeded to call again. Maybe I should answer so she could pass whatever message she had for me, but again, if I don't answer, it would probably take her months before she grew tired of these games. I toyed at the idea of her redialing this number for the next year… but I sighed and snapped it back open, pressing the send button to answer.

"Get on with it."

"I thought you would like to know; Alice is in Forks." Rosalie said, forcing the statement out as quickly as she could think of it.

I turned slightly and opened my eyes at the rotten wooden beams three inches from my face. "What?" I said with flatness, and no emotion.

"You know how Alice is; thinks she knows everything. Like you," Rosalie said, chuckling at her own self, finding humor in her statement. But her voice had this sort of edge. Nervousness seemed to peer through the phone.

My temper made it hard to care about whatever Rosalie had to say, and Alice had sworn to me that she would accept my wishes. Accept my decision, and to promise to not look for her. Promised to abide by my request of not bothering Bella or interfering with her life… as long as I had wished her to. I don't recall making a conscious decision to allow her to go see her, so she couldn't have seen a future where I abided by that.

What was she doing in Forks? I wanted to ring her skinny neck, throw her into the ocean. Not that Jasper would allow it to happen, or for me to get close enough to her.

"Are you still there, Edward?" Rosalie asked, softly into the receiver.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, holding my eyes tightly closed. I didn't answer. I felt pressure forming into my head.

On the other hand, if Alice had gone back….

No, no, no.

I made a promise… Bella deserved a life… I reminded myself of these two points, continuously, seducing my mind with the idea of peering into her window, the doorway to my sanctuary, to my sanity.

I could grovel for the rest of my life, and it would be worth it, spending the next decade on my knees, peering through her window, being near her.

No, no, no.

"Edward? Don't you care why Alice is there?"

"Not particularly."

Rosalie's huff came across smug, as she was pleased to have been able to say something that would cause me to return a response.

"Well, of course, she's not exactly breaking the rules. I mean, you only warned us to stay away from Bella, right? The rest of Fork's doesn't matter."

I felt my eyebrows furrow, as I tried to understand what she said. Did Bella leave Forks? I hadn't thought of the possibility that she would leave. Then again, she was eighteen, able to go as she pleased, but she hadn't graduated yet. It's possible she went back to her mother, and decided to live in Jacksonville, where the sun always shined, where she never had to look back again, reminded of cold, wet things.

I tried to push back the thought, swallowing.

"So, you don't need to be angry with Alice," A nervous laugh trilled through the phone.

"Then why did you call me, Rosalie? If not to get Alice in trouble? Why are you bothering me? UGH!"

"Wait!" she said, sensing that I was about to snap the phone shut on her again. "That's not why I called…"

"Then why? Tell me quickly and then leave me alone."

"Well…" She hesitated.

"Spit it out, Rosalie. You have ten seconds."

"I think you should come home," Rosalie huffed out, rushing the words. "I'm tired of Esme grieving and Carlisle never laughing. You should feel ashamed at what you've done to them. Emmett missed you all the time and it's getting on my nerves. You have a family. Grow up and think about something besides yourself," she hissed.

"Interesting advice, Rosalie. Let me tell you a little story about a pot and a kettle…"

"I am thinking of them, unlike you. Don't you care how much you've hurt Esme, if no one else? She loves you more than the rest of us, and you know that. Come home"

I didn't answer. What she said about Esme and Carlisle, struck. I didn't want to think of those things. I didn't want to think about anything. I just wanted to sit here, in the guilt.

"I thought once this whole Forks thing was finished, you would get over it."

"Forks was never the problem, Rosalie," I said, trying to be patient. "Just because Bella" — it was hard to breath her name out of my mouth— "Has moved to Florida, it doesn't mean that I'm able… Look, Rosalie. I really am sorry, but, trust me, it wouldn't make anyone happier if I was there."

"Um…"

There it was, the hesitation, the nervousness radiating through the receiver.

"What is it that you're not telling me, Rosalie? Is Esme all right? Is Carlisle—"

"They're fine. It's just… well, I didn't say that Bella moved."

I didn't peak. I ran over our conversation in my head. Yes, Rosalie had said that Bella had moved. If Bella wasn't in Forks, what did she mean that Bella hadn't moved?

Rosalie sternly rushed through her words, "They didn't want to tell you, but I think that's stupid. The quicker you get over this, the sooner things can go back to normal. Why let you mope around the dark corners of the world when there's no need for it? You can come home now. We can be a family again. It's over."

Broken. Broken words, broken thoughts. I couldn't find myself to understand. Something obvious, but my broken thoughts couldn't surround the idea that she was conveying. I played the information again in my mind, forming strange patterns of it.

"Edward?"

"I don't understand what you are saying, Rosalie."

A long pause played through the phone, as a soft static formed in the background.

"She's dead, Edward."

The pause lingered.

"I'm… sorry. You have a right to know, though, I think. Bella… threw herself off a cliff two days ago. Alice saw it, but it was too late to do anything. I think she would have helped, though, broken her word, if there had been time. She went back to do what she could for Charlie. You know how she's always cared for him—"

No more words entered through the receiver. I hadn't realized that I'd shut the power off.

I stood there, looking out the window, but my vision was blurred. I wasn't looking, per se, just peering through the window. Frozen. Time slowed, until it abruptly stopped. The Earth ceased to have spun on its axis. The moon and stars no longer glided over the dark sky. The universe ceased to go on.

I looked down, slowly as my face looked closer at the phone in my hand. I felt stiff, my movements were slow. I turned my phone back on, dialing the number I had promised myself I would never dare to call again, to keep the peace I promised her.

If it was her, I would hang up. If it was Charlie, I'd get the information I needed. I'd prove Rosalie's sick little joke wrong, and drift back off into rotting floorboards.

"Swan residence," answered a deep, husk, but youthful voice I wasn't familiar with.

"I didn't pause to think about the implications of that, the possibility of who this man was, or boy.

"This is Dr. Carlisle Cullen," I said, perfecting imitating my father's voice. "May I please speak to Charlie?"

The voice paused, not initiating a response. I hesitated as well, feeling a bit impatient. I broke free of the imitation of my father and resorted back to my normal voice.

"May I please speak to Charlie?" I asked again, unpleased by the lack of manners on the other end of the phone.

I heard a faint voice in the background, someone talking to the boy who held the phone. I could hear the boy's breathing huffing into the receiver as the voice pestered him. I tapped my foot, violently against the rotting floorboards, impatiently, waiting for a response. I heard the phone crackle a little bit, as it was being moved to another room, or being handed to someone else.

There it was, the sweet voice that I've been longing to hear again, "Hello, Alice? I'm sorry Jake is being a bit over protective..." I paused. Not sucking in a breath of air. My chest began to ache.

I immediately snapped the phone shut, holding it in the palm of my head.

Bella, my Bella. My sweet, Bella was alive. She was safe, she was well.

My eyes began to burn, I couldn't gasp any air into my chest as if my throat was closing in. My vision began to blur, and I could see the rotting floorboards closing in on me as my knees buckled to the ground. I froze there, on my knees. Not moving.

The silence succumbed me as the night went on, and the sun rays glimmered over the buildings into the small window. The beams were succumbed to fog in the air and overshadowed by the pollution that hung low in the town.

The phone proceeded to vibrate again. I ignored it.

It rang again, and I moved slowly, not looking at the Caller ID, and swung the phone open.

I didn't say anything. I stayed silent until the chimed voice trilled through the phone.

"Edward? Edward. I'm sorry, please don't be cold with me. After my vision, I—I had to check. I had to know she was okay. Please, understand," Alice pleaded through the phone. I didn't lift it to my ear. I held it away from my face, still being able to hear her voice completely.

I wasn't angry with her. I don't know what this cross feeling was that I felt towards her at the moment, but it wasn't anger.

Her voice trailed through the phone again, but I ignored it. I ignored everything around me. Joy and grief overwhelmed me. But the joy kept me going. The rejoice I felt moved me again. All this effort I put towards staying away, the bricks that held me down while I tried to get away, suddenly lifted. Lifted by the sweet voice I used to take great pleasure in hearing each day.

It was time to come home.