Don't own Twilight, but I do own the plot and the poem.

I wasn't really planning on writing another chapter, but what the heck. Enjoy and please review.

I waked shuddering. The grey dawn saturated the air. The last day's sun declined to wake with me. A frigid and harsh wind blew through the still open window menacingly, but I refused to move braving it, as if challenging the approaching storm. Cari whimpered at my feet and yawned widely, emerging from warm sleep.

I had fought drowsiness desperately all night, warding of the demons that would come with the new day. I knew I would not return to my moments of solace that I had found in the heartbreaking beauty of yesterday's twilight. I rose from my ancient rocking chair, muscles slightly stiff, to close the window. I was no match for the cold.

I sat in front of my computer staring at the screen. I hadn't written anything in days and my agents were getting worried. I had to finish the book, but nothing came. I willed myself to break down the mental block, to erase the obstacles. My creative powers felt short-circuited. I knew what would help- some spark of emotion, a moment of catharsis that would release whatever was pent up in my mind. But I had spent too long killing it; too much energy was expended in pushing it away, in becoming numb.

"Stop it Bella. You have to find another way. Forget. Forget." I scolded myself.

Cari's furry head shot up in surprise at my outburst.

"You think I'm crazy don't you? It's just as well. It doesn't matter!" I explained myself, arms flailing everywhere. Then I realized I was yelling at a dog that had no idea what I was talking about.

I ruffled her fur in apology and she relaxed by my feet.

It had been 10 years and I was still a wreck. I felt the blood burn in my veins and rush through my heart with violent impact. I decided to turn away from the novel I was supposed to be writing. I shut the word document and opened one of my poems. I had written it a few years after it happened.

Naively I march ahead,

To find my Jerusalem of content.

And digging deeper, past the light

Translucent, separated words

I cannot form nor comprehend

The symbols of the frayed pages.

Be it the scriptures of the Son of God

Or vibrant cleaning supply ads,

I fail to see, and fail to hear

Past eyes, past ears

Hungered for time erased.

I rest my head upon the ashes,

The memoirs of crunching debris

Upon the roads to winter's end:

The desolate tribute to the world.

" 'And all I loved, I loved alone.' " I quoted. It was true I had been alone for nearly 10 years. I refused to be in the company of strangers, and everyone including Charlie and Renee seemed to be aliens. After the agony that was college I moved into the backwoods of Forks, where I could be alone, where I could write, where I could hope… hope to never remember.

"Is this what you wished for me Edward?" I asked out loud, knowing perfectly well that the words would never be heard by the only one I ever wished to speak to.

I reached for the bottle beside me and unscrewed the top. I popped one prescription pain killer into my mouth and swallowed it dry, feeling the hard lump traveling down my throat. What would he think of me now? I smiled to myself. Despite my devotion, I wanted him to hurt; I wanted him to never forget.

p.s. vampires are awesome