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This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.
Chapter 11: Thirsty
Had I died? No, a man was carrying me, but I wasn't afraid so it couldn't be Royce or Felix. It felt like I was flying. I was confused. The pain had definitely not stopped; I couldn't be dead. When I finally roused, I found myself in a bright, warm room. Gratefully the pain began to dull. And then something sharp was cutting me - my throat, my wrists, my ankles. I screamed in shock, thinking he'd brought me here to hurt me more.
The fire started burning through me, and I didn't care about anything else. I begged him to kill me. A kind stranger held my hand and said he was sorry, promising that it would end. I screamed a lot. He apologized each time. Sleep finally rescued me.
When I woke the pain was gone, but I was so thirsty, no I was ravenously thirsty. The kind stranger, Carlisle, was still sitting with me. He explained what had happened; explained what I had become. I shook my head at the memory. No. No! I tried to escape the bright room and shake the pain loose. Of course I knew he was right. My 'husband' had meant to murder me. That betrayal was far greater than the pain of my rebirth.
I crumbled into the corner of the room and cried … tearlessly. I knew I could never go back. I had already detached myself from my parents. I didn't even hate them. I 'nothing-ed' them. I would miss my brothers and I would miss Vera. Vera, her Raymond, her sweet little Henry. But they were the only ones. I think Vera would know I came to an unhappy end. I hoped she wouldn't push too hard to solve the mystery of my disappearance - that she'd allow herself to believe whatever Royce's lies might be. I wanted her to raise her baby boy and live happily ever after with her Raymond. That thought made me smile.
I sat in the corner for a long time. A long time. Days maybe. This new body was so thirsty, but my overload of emotions – and vengeance – was a hunger that surpassed the aching need my dry mouth and throat craved. I would make them pay. This still breathtakingly beautiful body was strong. I was strong! Royce's big hands could never hurt me again.
I went after Felix first.
I admit, I played with him. I followed him every night. I would let him see me, but only peripherally. I would ghost past him, almost stroking his cheek. At first he dismissed the sightings, blaming it on the alcohol. But when he continued to see me, he became frightened and twitchy.
I started to airily whisper "You. Just. Wait." as I'd breeze past him, almost a figment of his imagination.
After the fourth day of taunting, he started to scream as he ran down the dark street, a wild look in his eye. He turned into an alley. I grabbed him from behind and pushed into his back.
"Ro-sie" I sung into his ear. "Remember me?"
I let him turn and look at me. This time I enjoyed the pain twisting his face.
And then … I finished him.
Probably too fast.
I did not satiate this body's thirst. I did not want any more of him in me. I left his body in plain sight. I wanted him to be found. I wanted Royce to hear about it. I wanted him to wonder. I wanted him to be afraid.
Once I knew Royce had heard about his friend's violent end, I began my cat and mouse game with him. I knew what would make it even more blood-curdlingly delicious. I took advantage of my stealth and climbed into the bedroom window of my childhood home. I opened the closet door. It was there. I knew my mother would keep it, in her fake show of grief at her loss. I'm sure she was exacting a financial pound of flesh from the King estate.
My dress was neatly preserved and hanging in my closet. I regarded it indifferently allowing my mind to wander to the day I had the final fitting for the gown. Instead of seeing the beauty of the garment, I thoroughly inspected it for the express purpose of finding a flaw. I was almost disappointed that it was perfect.
I slipped the gown on soundlessly. I stood in front of long mirrors, admiring my expensive beauty. I regarded my reflection. Despite the eyes, I was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
As hoped, Royce had heard of Felix' death. He definitely understood his life was in peril. I hoped the fear and anticipation would make the end worse for him. I think it worked. He was hiding inside a windowless room behind a door as thick as a bank vault's, jittery with fear. The room was guarded by armed men. I felt guilty killing the guards, but I made it swift and painless. It wasn't their fault they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Royce was not so lucky.
I was overly theatrical. It was kind of childish, really. He screamed when he saw me in the wedding dress. He screamed a lot that night.
Before I ended him I looked into his eyes and said "you're not going to cry are you?"
They found him dead, alone in that secure room. Mystery still shrouds his death.
I hoped ending the life of my tormenters would make me feel better.
It didn't.
Looks like Rosalie was destined to be a vampire, no matter what her human life had to offer.
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