I want to apologize for my lack of updates. It has been very hard for me to have any time lately to type, but I felt bad and managed to get this done. Also sorry for any errors you might find in the chapter.

I do not own Twilight. If I did, my name would be Stephenie Meyer, wouldn't it?

BPOV

Torture.

There was no other apt way to describe the feelings that coursed through me after Jasper's departure. Every day that I spent apart from him, from his kind eyes to his warm smile, killed me a little more inside.

The gaping hole that had been left in the wake of this disaster and the intolerable throbbing of loss that came with it forced me into a state of numbness. I had never before felt such a deep feeling of loneliness and sadness as I did in that period of time. I spent days on end locked in my room, laying limply on my bed, staring at nothing in particular while willing my mind to refrain from riveting to the many memories of the one that I loved in fear that the ever consuming pain would finally finish me off.

I lost track of time as my self induced confinement conitinued. I barely managed to eat; my body felt as if it needed no sustenance. What was the point of it now that I had lost what I loved most in this life? My mother would barge into my room, her face lined with new wrinkles from the worry that I blatanly caused, feeding me like she did when I was a child when I did not pay attention to my body's needs. It was in those moments when I felt an inkling of guilt for the behavior that I upheld, for the hurt that I was causing to those that I loved.

She occasionally tried to make small talk with me, though the conversation was completely one sided. She would try to make me answer her, to say anything at all. She would beg and threaten and cry for me to go back to the Bella that she had come to know in the past seventeen years; but I was never going to be the same. I would never go back to being the girl I was all because of one man. Jasper.

"You did not eat yeaterday, Isabella; you need to eat this delicious soup that Mary prepared. Please, just eat this darling." My mother coaxed me, setting the bowl of soup on my nightstand. I merely gazed at her emptily.

She fretted with the end of her shawl, picking at the loose threads, a frown that I had become all to familiar with smothered over her lined mouth. It was all to clear to the both of us that I would not do as she suggested.

Sighing in resignation, she got up from my bed and looked at me long and hard. There were so many different emotions swirling in her eyes; fear, anger, sadness, and worry all tinged in two blue orbs.

"Why do you do this to yourself Isabella? Why do you torture yourself in this manner, this nonliving that you are set on. Jasper was a wonderful young man; he was the best thing that happened to you. I could see it plain as day whenever he was around, the way you acted was so much more cheerful and uplifted that it has ever been, and I have known you for all your life. But he is gone now, and God knows when we will see him again. You must move on, Bella; if not for me, then for him. He would have wanted more for you than this new existance." she said, all the while holding my gaze as the words came flowing out, like a dam that broke deep within her.

I lay unresponsive as she waited for me to react. What did she want me to do? To get up and act merrily when all I felt was a deathly sadness inside? She had no idea of how it was that I felt; she could not possibly know.

Tears began to form in her eyes as I looked away, out the window. I did not see her exit, but merely heard her dainty footsteps fade away.

My own mother wanted me to move on; but how could I? It was simply too difficult to just leave this hurt in a corner of my mind; to ignore the constant pain that rippled through me day and night. How could I act like I wanted to live when all I wanted was to die?

I felt moist tears roll down my cheeks as these thoughts swirled and grew in my mind. They were like a wildfire, spreading rapidy and giving shape to a new idea that I had not contemplated before.

Just as I was beginning to think of this new occurance something caught my eye out in the street. Though it was twilight and darkness was quickly settling down, a flash of blonde hair bobbed through my blurred vision.

My mind ceased all action. Was it possible that it was him? Was he back so soon? Did he return because he simply could not go?

Without a second thought I dashed out of my door, stumbling as I flew down the starcase barefoot. I slammed open the front door and tore down the street, dimly noting someone was screaming my name back in the general direction of my home.

I felt the burning of my lungs as I tried to suck in more air; the burning of my legs as they began to tire. But all I could focus on was the tall manly shape with the headfull of blonde hair- at that time so sure it was Jasper's.

I stumbled every now and then as I neared this familiar stranger. I was wheezing as I kept getting closer and closer, only getting more and more convinced that it was my love I was running after when the man turned around.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

He had to have been the most beautiful man that I had ever layed eyes upon. His face was serene and angelic; a true masterpiece I had no right set sight upon. His kind topaz eyes looked sympatheticly at me, taking note of my crazed appearance. His skin was eerily pale, yet glowingly beautiful.

Yet all I could register in my mind was that in fact this man was not Japser; he had not come back.

I felt a sob rip through me as realization set in. Jasper wasn't here, He had not come back. This was stranger that bore some resemblance the the man that I so desperately loved.

The sobs only increased in frequency as I stumbled backward, unaware of the busy streets. I only managed to stumble more and more backward as the angel's brow creased in worry and confusion.

"You...no...no...he isn't...Jasper isn't...no..." I mumbled incoherently as I retracted away from the beautiful stranger, an odd surge of sorrow upon me.

Noticing my distress, the man took a step forward and politely asked, "Are you alright, miss?"

He had the voice of an angel; musical, serene, calming. He said something more but at that point I was past hearing. Jasper wasnt here. Never would be. And then, it happened.

I heard a gasp leave the man's lips as he whipped his head to the right. I managed to register his horrified expression as I turned to look at what he was looking at, only to stop dead in my tracks.

A cart was speeding down the street straight at me. And it was going to hit me soon.

It was going to fast and was too close for any chance of salvation. The man turned his head impossibly fast to look at me, horror filling his topaz eyes. I merely smiled, my first in weeks.

I closed my eyes and whispered my last words as the cart approached.

"I love you Jasper."

Pain crashed through me as the collision took place, and then horrified screaming. All the while all my consciousness began to slip and darkness enveloped my mind.

I was dead. It was not a matter that I questioned; it was a fact. I had been plowed by a running cart in the middle of a street; there was no earthly way that I could have survived the impact.

I expected heaven to feel wonderful, like a floating dream. Yet if the burning sensation that began to spread through me was not like heaven was supposed to feel, then I was damned in hell.

Knives stabbed me from the inside out. A fire raged through my veins, uncontrollably spreading ever so painfully through my bloodstream, bringing with it pain beyond imagination.

I faintly recalled hearing tortured screams as the pain intensified, not knowing then that it had been me who had emitted such pained cries. All I could pray for was forgiveness as I toiled in this hell, and suddenly glad for the blackness that began to coat my vision after never ending agony.

P.S.-The blonde haired man was Carlisle. I think it was obvious, but just FYI if you didn't know. This story is drawing to a close and I hope that you have enjoyed it so far. Thank you for your reviews, and I hope that you keep on encouraging me to ignore my history work (30 pages of reading per chapter every day, plus finishing a book on the American Revolution). Please do that!! I don't want to read about the colonization!!