As long as I'm around, you won't have to use those at all.

Edward's words stay in my mind the rest of the day and into the night. I try to keep myself busy around the cabin, cleaning places Embry didn't think of before I moved in and rearranging some of the things he left behind. No matter what I do, it's all just a ruse to keep my brain from going into overdrive.

I'm nervous. Anxious. Jumpy.

Because the gun, and all its necessary parts, are on my kitchen table where I left it after Edward had dropped me off this afternoon. I can't bring myself to move it, let alone touch it, so it sits there in all its mystifying glory.

Now that I have everything I need for it, the thought of it being here in the cabin scares me. I'm surprised, since I expected to feel safe knowing I had something to protect myself if danger ever landed on my doorstep. Instead, the thought of me having to possibly use it one day makes me sick to my stomach.

It makes me feel like I'm stooping to his level.

He's not innocent, I remind myself as I'm sweeping the kitchen floor while the gun stares back at me like a pet with sad eyes. He would use this the second he had the chance.

Or would he?

The more I think about it, the more I know he would get no pleasure from killing me.

I couldn't play his little game if I were dead.

He would keep me alive just so he could play a little longer.

The thought makes me slam my broom down on the hardwood of the cabin floor and reach for the gun in a red fury. With shaking hands, I hold it out in front of me with one hand. It's still unloaded as I bring my other hand up to join the other to better support the weapon.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting when I grabbed it, but the more I hold it, the more I think about aiming it right at his heart. The more another piece of my past shatters from my story.

I had no expectations of my new life when I had left Rhode Island. The only option in my mind was to put as much distance between him and me as possible, and after that, I would lay low and hide in the shadows. Try to create a page for this new chapter of my life.

I don't want to hide anymore.

I've had my taste of freedom here in Forks, and it's so addicting it makes me crave more by the second.

But as I stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom with a gun pointing back at my reflection, I can't ignore what I see.

The girl in the mirror has been ignored for far too long.

Edward's words from earlier chant in my mind again, but I ignore them. As long as I'm around, you won't have to use those at all.

I may not have to, Edward. I point the gun at the mirror, seeing my face in the reflection blur into an image of my husband.

But fuck do I want to.

Can we see Bella actually killing her husband one day? We know he finds her eventually, and we all want to see the bastard dead, but the psychology behind actually killing someone is deep. I know what I see happening (haven't written it yet but I see it in my head already) but what do YOU see? I'm curious.

See you tomorrow, lovelies!