1The Twilight Saga and its characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

13.

My body shook uncontrollably, violently. Spasms rocked through every limb, as if I was spontaneously ripping apart. I was sure the force of my convulsions would bust through the beams, but I could not bring myself to care.

She was gone? She was dead? She had killed herself? No. She had promised me. No, no. She couldn't have. No, no, no, no, no.

"NO!"

And then I did break through the ceiling, out on to the rooftop, out of this corner of hell.

What did she do? Bella, what did you do? What were you thinking? Dear God, how could you have let this happen? She was pure and good, how could you have let this come to pass? To punish me?

I gasped for breath that I did not need, I waited for tears that would not come, but I sobbed all the same. I was suffocating in the nightmare. I was desperate for some sort of relief, to have a human response. To vomit, or pass out, or both. But nothing came, nothing happened. My frozen shell could not offer me any release.

I pictured her remains lying at the bottom of a cliff, bruised and broken. Her lifeless body, her beautiful face mangled, her hair matted in blood. Immediately, I forced myself to banish the image from my memory. I refused to remember her that way. I had seen what such a thing would look like. I had seen Esme's brutal wounds before the venom healed her.

Venom. I could have prevented this. I should had prevented this. She asked me numerous times. Not only asked but pleaded with me to change her. I could have been with her forever. Forever.

The shaking worsened exponentially and I crumbled to ground. Terrifying screams escaped me in a voice that I did not recognize. Now I was a mad man, now I was insane. No beautiful hallucinations ahead of me, no final farewell awaited me. Only horror was left, and my mind was gone.

This is my fault. This is my fault.

I underestimated her feelings for me. How foolish and arrogant I had been. She did love me the way I loved her. Exactly the same. It did not matter that she was human. Had I really not believed her to be capable of the same devotion? She knew the only way to release herself from the bonds I had created was death. She knew it and she sought it out.

Again, my cries pierced the silent morning and the building trembled beneath me. I wondered briefly what people must be thinking. Wondering what monster could make that horrendous noise? And I was a monster. I had killed her. I killed her the moment I saw her, the moment I loved her, the moment I allowed her to love me too.

I should never have gone back to Forks after I met her. I should never have spoken to her, sought her out. I should never have told her the way I felt, held her, touched her, kissed her. I should never have left her.

Why did I leave her? Why? No reason could be enough. No reason was acceptable. No reason. No, no, no, no. This was anguish. This was horror. All this time I had wallowed in what I thought was despair. There has never been pain until now. No agony or torment or affliction has ever meant anything compared to this. Was this the suffering she felt before she fell ... not fell, but leapt ... to her death? Did she still love me in that moment or did she curse me for destroying her life?

And she had sinned. She had damned herself as absolutely as I was damned. Was it sick of me to have hope for us to meet again in hell? Whatever horrors awaited us in the afterlife meant nothing if we were together. I would be her protector once again, for all eternity. I would never leave her side. Even if she wanted nothing of me, even if she ran from me, I would follow. I would apologize, I would grovel. I would beg her forgiveness. Even if she would not grant me a reprieve I would never make the mistake of leaving her again. Once I found her nothing would be able to tear me from her. In this disturbing fantasy I found solace.

She had found her release, and now it was time for me to follow after. I did not only wish for death now, I needed it, depended on it. As surely as a human needed air to breath I needed to die. There was nothing else. No other possibility. Every second that I continued on without her was an abomination, a curse. Every moment I was allowed to stay in this world, where she was not, was an injustice.

The Volturi was the only option. If I provoked them they would be sure to act swiftly. But was that really necessary? What repercussions might befall my family for my actions? My decision would injure them enough, I could not bear for them to be punished for it as well. I would go to them first. Ask them for death, make them see I want no more of this existence. Only if they refused would I resort to more desperate measures. I would threaten to expose them and surely they would not hesitate to destroy me.

It was decided. The vile object still in my hand vibrated again. Alice. She had seen it. Damn it! She would try to stop me, so I could not allow her the opportunity. I jumped from the rooftop not caring that several humans watched me, quite literally, fall from the sky. I tossed the phone into the trash, and ran with greater speed than I knew was possible to the airport. As soon as I was on the plane it would be too late for Alice, or anyone to intervene. They would never make it in time.

I will come to you, Bella. I will make you this one last promise. I will do everything in my power to reunite us. Because If I fail, then I have failed you in every way.