Twilight and New Moon belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Okay, so tar and feather me then scold me for lying. I'm putting this up on a weekday when I just said they would be coming on weekends. I wrote this late last night and didn't have time to put it up. Sorry!

WARNING!

In advance I would like to put out a warning about this chapter. It is indeed the chapter descibing Bella's change. It is bound to be violent and depressing. My 'editor' (I make fun of her, but she does a good job) has told me that some parts of it were kind of gross, in a gory way. Not all of it, just some, and it's not anythign too horrible. If you don't think you can take it, don't read it. It's not overly descriptive, I just wanted to be accurate about an important part of the story. You have been warned!

One the first day, I burned.

It felt like every inch of my body was on fire. My veins blazed like they were filled with magma, and my nerves scorched like they were being jabbed with a thousand pins every second. I screamed in the beginning, but after I lost my voice, I could no longer make noise, and I simply cried. Eventually my eyes dried up too, so all I could do was try to hold still.

Movements caused more pain, as I soon found out. I whipped and rolled around to remove the pressure on my body, and hopefully stopping the throbbing. But the movement only made the burning worse, so I tried my best to lie still, and not thrash from the pain.

My vision was filled with my memories. Images of my childhood flashed through my mind. Starting with being pulled out of Charlie's house as my mother left him. It continued, and scenes of me playing at a park with Renee, watching a movie in my living room in Phoenix, going to my first day of school ran through my head almost faster than I could comprehend them.

I watched as my life in Phoenix, the life as the clumsy, pale, friendless girl, was replayed in my mind. After that came the boring summers with Charlie, as I sat in the raining and dreary town of Forks, starring out the window.

On the second day, I was breaking.

While the burning continued, my bones felt like they were snapping into a million pieces. It started with my fingers and toes, and the pain was no worse than the previous day. I thought that I may be able to survive. But eventually it reached my arms and legs, and they began to splinter and crack, eventually breaking. I could actually feel as the cracks moved toward my torso.

At the same time, it felt as if my already broken bones were re-growing themselves. I had injured myself enough that I knew how a broken limb felt, and how it felt for it to heal. But this was a thousand times more painful. It was being done at an extremely fast pace, so the pain was intensified. At the same time, I was happy that it wasn't drawn out; I didn't know if I could take that much pain.

As my bones shattered, my muscles were being ripped apart. The tendons were torn, and the fibers split. This added to the burning, and the ache. Again, they began to grow anew, weaving back together at an immeasurable pace.

Irrevocably, the breaking reached my spine and ribs. This was the worst part, if I had thought the pain was bad before, I had been mistaken. My spine already burned from the fire, and now it was being torn apart. As my ribs broke, it felt like they pierced my heart. I thought someone was stabbing me with a burning dagger. I found out that I hadn't completely lost my voice, because I began to scream again.

The memories continued that day. This time they were of my life in Forks. I saw my first day at Forks High, meeting my friends, going shopping in Port Angeles, doing homework together, making phone calls. Then the time after Edward had left, when I did nothing but stare at the ceiling and cry. But it bothered me that I didn't see the one part of Forks that had made me the happiest. Any vision of Edward or his family was missing.

On the third day, I lost control of my senses.

My hearing went haywire. I spent what seemed like hours deaf to any sound, to suddenly be hit with a tuning orchestra of noises. I could hear the cars in the street, the tap of Brendon's feet as he paced about the room, the television in the room below us, the kitchen clamor of the café across the street, the gentle tap of water falling from a faucet across the hall, the voice of a man on the street as he whispered in the ear of his wife, nothing seemed to be any quieter than anything else. After some time, I went deaf again, and I almost went crazy from the sudden silence of my mind.

At the same time, my sense of smell also began to fluctuate wildly. I could smell the fresh flowers in the living room, the room service breakfast on the third floor, the cologne on a man in the lobby, the air that Brendon was breathing in and out, and the blood the faintly pulsed in my veins. Then, as my hearing had, it suddenly stopped, and I became almost unable to breathe.

The same happened for my touch, at one point I could feel the very fibers of the sheets I was lying on, and the molecules of oxygen in the air. Then I felt as if I was floating in a dark abyss, nothing but the dull ache of the pain to let me know I was still alive.

My sense of taste was not affected, I suppose because there was nothing for me to eat at the time. But strangely, it felt like my mouth was prickling, and sometimes I couldn't feel it. One moment it was swelling, another moment it was cold, and at points I couldn't feel my tongue.

The worst was my vision. It would black out at times, only to open again to find I was starring at something I had never seen before, so intricate it was almost impossible. Then my vision would return to normal, to find I had been staring at a crystal of ice distorted by the glass it was in. This happened many times, and I was surprised by the world of beauty I had been blind to for so long.

Sometimes these absences would happen at the same time as each other. I could hear, but not smell or feel, or see what was making the noise. Or I could see everything around me, but not be able to hear or smell, or feel its texture. Sometimes I could do nothing, all of my senses gone, and it was then that I had truly thought I was dead.

At the end of the third day, I died.

The pain all dulled. The burning stopped, my nerves calmed, the shattering of my bones ceased, and my muscles were not being torn. Soon, I didn't hurt anymore. But I was tired; the pain had taken my strength with it. I couldn't move.

My senses began to disappear. First, I lost my sense of smell. Then next, I could no longer hear, then no longer taste. After that was the sense of touch. Finally, my vision blurred, and then I was floating in complete darkness. My own personal oblivion.

I floated there for what seemed like a long time. Then, slowly, I heard a faint noise. It was soft, but constant. I realized it was my heart beating. It sounded so weak, like it was using the last of its strength to keep me alive.

I lie there in the darkness and listened to my heart, when suddenly, my memories started to come. They were the memories that had been absent from my previous recap of my life. They were the memories that I had once tried to hide from myself. They were the memories that I now held most dear to me. They were memories of Edward.

I relived the emotions of when I first saw him, sitting across the cafeteria. I remembered his actions that first day in class, when he first spoke to me, being saved by him during the car crash. I remembered when he saved me from the men in Port Angeles, and all the talk we had afterwards about what he truly was. I saw us in the meadow, talking about how he wanted to kill me, and how he loved me. I saw our first kiss, how he stayed in my room that night, meeting his family, running from James and Victoria, the last words he uttered to me before he left me alone, so much more alone than I had ever been.

Every memory that was behind both of us, in the past that could not be changed, every moment I had spent with him was rewound through my mind. I listened to my heart, knowing it was what he had heard everyday. I watched his face, so perfect, show the emotions that I missed so much. Finally, when it was all done, a final image of him was shown in my mind. It was the perfect image of him, perfect down to every little detail. I realized this was what my mind had preserved for me, so that during my last moments, I could remember him exactly like I wanted. The vampire I loved, and that had once loved me.

His face was confused, starring at me like I wasn't really there. Then his eyes grew wide and he whispered my name.

"Bella…"

I would have sighed if I could, his voice was beautiful even in my memory. I could hear my heart, so constant before, was beginning to slow and grow fainter. I really was dying, this was the end. Edward's face was contorted in pain as he heard my heart as well as I could, as he heard me die.

"Bella, no!" he cried suddenly, "I can't loose you!" His voice broke into sobs.

I wanted to tell him that he wasn't loosing me, we would be together eventually, someday. I would wait in heaven, just like I had promised in my letter, and everything would be okay. But my voice was weak, I couldn't say everything I wanted to. So with the last of my strength, I whispered across the darkness the phrase that held everything I ever could say,

"I love you Edward."

Then my vision blurred and turned to black, Edward's face the last thing I would ever see…

I got very cold…

My heart stopped beating…

And I was finally dead.

The end! Hahaha! Just kidding of course! Before anyone asks, Bella's not actually dead. But some others may think she is... Please review, and if anyone thinks that this is not appropriate or too gory, please tell me, and I can make an effort to change it. Thanks!