A/N: SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine.

Chapter 19

The night is a rough one. Bella is a mess and there isn't much I can do to help. We lay on our sides, her front to mine, in her bed as she cries until we can't fight the sleep anymore. I make sure her breathing is even before letting my eyes relax.

I'm standing outside on my front steps, staring out into the night woods. It's below freezing and nearly pitch black with only the moon as the light source. The silence is frightening as it's unnaturally quiet. There's no wind, no cars passing, and not a sound from any animal still around; nothing but my own breathing. I stand there, freezing off my extremities, for a few minutes. I turn to go inside, but stop at the breaking of a stick.

Unsure of where it came from I turn back to the woods. Again, there's nothing. When I turn again, another stick breaks. I know now that something is out there. I whip my head to the direction I'm positive it came from, and I'm startled to find a figure at the tree line staring my way. Their posture and clothing tells me it's a man, but I cannot see his face. The hood of his plain, dark sweatshirt cloaks that main feature.

"How terrible it is to love something that death can touch." Renee's voice comes through, but distorted like a male tone is mixed with hers; like a woman who is possessed in an exorcist type movie.

All of a sudden, a crow swoops down in front of me, cawing away angrily as he flies around within inches of me. I raise my arms, protecting my face from its talons and beak. Then it's gone and so is the hooded man. The dead silence from before is back. Getting my breathing under control, I spin on my heel, eager to go inside, but I can't. My legs refuse to move, my feet glued to the top stair at the sight before me.

There, somehow attached to my door, is a rose, soaked and dripping in blood. It is so red, I can barely make out the original white of the petals.

Opening my eyes, I see the ceiling fan of Bella's room, having rolled from my side to my back during sleep. I feel the weight of her head on my chest, her leg over mine, and the now loose grip of her hand on my shirt. Looking down, I kiss the top of her head and run my fingers through her hair, pulling it away from her face. She stirs slightly, tightening her hold on my middle and trying to burrow into me as much as possible.

I trace every part of her face, committing it to memory, even though I'm sure I could never forget it. Unfortunately, the faceless man in my dream and the bloody rose are just another thing imprinted on my mind.

A/N: Another horrible dream. Btw, I hate exorcist movies. *Shudders with a jump* ugh! Lol!