Author's Note:
**Trigger warning. I bumped up the rating for this chapter. Its Rosalie's story so it does include rape. Please review and let me know how you feel about the story. Thank you for your support. Enjoy!
Chapter 11- Small Talk
The trees flew past us as we drive smoothly back home. It was peaceful and comforting to be in the car. The music we played was acoustic, and I really liked it. I looked up at the tall trees and we moved further and further away from the best day I had had since my life came crashing to an end. That's pathetic isn't it? The best day I had had was running errands for my new step mom with a woman that, until yesterday, hated me.
I tapped my finger along to the beat on my knee mindlessly. I wan in my own world when Rosalie's voice pulled me out and back into reality.
"Hey Bella?" She sounded almost unsure of herself.
"Yeah?" I said turning to look at her. She kept her eyes focused on the road. I saw her readjust her hands on the wheel. She was working up the nerve to say something.
"I'm sorry for how I treated you. You are actually really nice." She said uncomfortably.
I didn't know why she looked like she was so awkward. I had never really seen her like this. It made her seem human. Rosalie Hale was confident in everything she did.
"Thanks. I'm sorry I attacked you in Port Angeles." I said trying to even the score.
"You are apologizing for being a hungry baby vampire." She laughed. "I probably deserved to be attacked a couple other times."
"Still. It wasn't ok, and I'm sorry." I said.
"Its so easy for you to apologize, I think you apologize too much. I don't share that quality. It's very hard for me to admit to being wrong. The Hales are a prideful people." She said.
"Tell me more about your family." I said genuinely interested.
She thought about what I requested. I think she was trying to remember her human life.
"My mother was a beautiful woman. I have a picture of her in my room. I went back to my home after I was changed and took it. She always wanted me to be this person that I wasn't. She had me put through finishing school, always dressed up just in case we ran into a man she wanted me to be with. She had a life planned for me, and I did everything she asked. I was always the person she wanted me to be. Still in the end, I could not make her proud. I didn't know another life was possible outside of the one she had molded for me."
"Did you have a relationship with them after?"
"No." she said point blank. I could tell there was more to that answer.
"Why? Didn't you want to?" I asked. She looked down when she thought about my question.
"Yes, I did very much. I adored my father, and I loved my mother, despite her being the person she was." She said sadly.
"I'm sorry Rose, didn't you try to be around them?" I asked as if it were the obvious answer. She laughed cynically.
"I suppose for you to understand what my life was like, and what my mother was like, you need to know about my death." She said cautiously as she repositioned her right hand to rest on the gearshift. She looked uncomfortable.
"You can tell me if you want to, but if its painful, you don't have to."
"You might as well know. I was so young, and so naïve. Eighteen years old with the rest of my life to write my story. All I wanted was family, maybe a few beautiful babies and a husband to kiss me when he came home. My mother had set her eyes on a man named Royce King to be my husband. He was Rochester's most eligible bachelor. We used to take chaperoned walks through the park. He seemed nice enough.
One night I was on my way home from a friend's when I came across him with some of his buddies. They had all ben drinking." She paused with her face in pain; she had briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them she continued.
"I can still smell the bourbon…"
The town was dark and the streets were wet in the sleepy city. Rosalie walked alone bundled in a coat with a red hat accenting her beautiful head. She crossed the street when she saw the man she had hoped would be hers. He was standing in a group with 4 other men all holding brown paper bags with bottles in them.
"Hey Royce." She spoke up to his back. He turned around with a small waver in his step. It was clear to her at that point that the bottle he held was not his first.
"Hey there Rose, what are you doing out here at this time of ni…" A hiccup finished his question. "Nice girls don't stay out this late."
"Hey Royce, this the girl you were talking about? Its hard to tell just how good looking she is with all those clothes on!" A drunken friend spoke up.
"Yeah, why don't you come here and show these nice men what's under all those." He grabbed Rosalie by the shoulder with a firm grip pulling her to him. He grasped both shoulders and spoke into her ear. "C'mon sweetie."
She struggled out of his grasp and broke free. She fixed her coat and regained her composure.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Sober." She said in a stuffy tone.
"Nah honey, you come here and show my boys what you got under all that." He grabbed her.
The next few minutes felt like an eternity to her. The men were too strong for her to fight off. One by one they took a turn with her, each rougher than the next. Royce was last. Adding to all of the bruises she had, he slapped her hard and called her a whore. She fell to the ground with blood trickling down her cheek. Before the men left, they all took turns kicking her on the ground. They called her all kinds of names that were demeaning. She didn't have the luxury of passing out; she heard ever word and felt every hit.
She was naked, alone and bleeding. She lied half conscious praying to die. A strange man approached, he gently picked her up in his arms and ran faster than any man she had ever seen. She finally felt the warmth of a blanket hug her. Then, before she knew where she was she felt a sharp pain in bend of her neck. She didn't have the energy to scream or to fight. Her fight was over.
She thought the pain she felt was going to last forever, and as far as she was concerned it had. It spread from her neck and took over every inch of her body. She thought that God was punishing her for her last moments on earth. This was her hell.
Finally it had ended; she awoke to see Carlisle and Esme standing over her. They were gracious and kind to her. She was post traumatic, scared and confused. She learned to trust them after some time. Most of her human life was a blur to her now, but not her last moments. Those memories haunted her.
"Eventually I sought vengeance on Royce and his friends. I took them out one by one. I saved Royce for last. I wanted him to know I was coming. He was held up with hired guards at a remote Hotel in Texas. As if two chubby guards could stop me." She smirked deviously. "I wore the dress I was going to wear to our wedding. You should have seen him huddled behind his bed like a baby holding tight to his pillow. He screamed like I had. I took my time with him. I bit him over and over and watched him squirm in pain. Finally I ended his miserable excuse of a life." She paused for a minute before adding "I was a little dramatic back then."
"Oh my God, Rose." I said shocked at all that she told me.
"Anyways, I came home about a year later. I had seen the missing person's article my father submitted to the papers." She continued.
Rosalie walked cup the sidewalk to her parent's Victorian style home. She stopped before turning the handle. The house was dimly lit and quiet. She heard a little bit of movement coming from the back kitchen. She swiftly moved to see her family that she missed with all of her being. She came around the corner to see her mother at the stove with a hot kettle of water. She watched her stand there for a minute with her back turned.
"Erm, hello mother." She said not being able to contain the smile on her face.
Her mother turned quickly to the sound of her daughter's voice.
"Rose? Is that really you?" She questioned. She took a better look at her daughter with excitement on her face, her eyes traveled up Rosalie's body and landed on her eyes. The change in her face was dramatic. Her face filled with fear and the kettle of water she was holding fell to the ground. She grasped her chest in fear.
"Mother, its me. I have come back, I am ok now." Rosalie said reassuringly. She was filled with so much hope that her words carried them.
"You are not my Rose! You are a demon sent by Satan himself!" She yelled, not being able to look away from her eyes. Rosalie had crimson red eyes that gave her change away. She stepped forward and reached out her hand towards her mother. She wanted her to not be afraid. She needed her mother to love her again.
"Its me, I am your Rose. Something happened to me, but I am still your daughter. Please mother." She said pleading.
"Get out of this house! Never come back. Your father would be ashamed at the sorcery you have committed. If I told him you were here it would break his heart!" She spoke passionately.
Rosalie let her head fall to face the ground. She let her shoulders slump slightly. Turning away to leave she heard her mother say one last thing to her.
"It would have been better for you to be dead! Never return here." She said coldly. She was gone.
"I only ever returned once more to see my father as he passed. My mother had died years before and my father wore his age on his face. He died in his own bed on a Sunday morning. I didn't let him see me, but I held his hand one last time just after the room was clear. That is when I got the picture. I have only one of us as a family. I am a child." She spoke softly in pain. I saw her left hand fidgeting with the threading on the steering wheel. She was trying to remain composed. She couldn't keep her sights focus on the road like she had before.
This was possibly the saddest story I had ever heard. I had been so off in my assessment of her. I had never considered her to have any depth to her. She wasn't perfect, though she always seemed to be. In this imperfection, in this pain, she was so much more than she had previously been.
I felt so much compassion for her. I wished I could embrace her and make all of her painful past disappear. In that moment I would have done anything to make it better. If I could have taken it away I would have. There was only one thing I could think to do.
I reached my hand out and softly put my hand on hers. I felt a slight hesitation under my hand from her. She relaxed after a moment. The rest of the drive was spent in a peaceful silence.