"What do you mean she's not there? She is sitting right there!" I shouted in frustration, pointing to Bella on the couch. In the corner of my eye I saw Jacob come in, but I wasn't worried about him.
"Edward, son, there is no one sitting on that couch, especially not Bella." Carlisle said softly, almost pleading.
I glared at him, and than at everyone else.
"What? So you all think i'm crazy or something?" I snarled. They all stared at me, pitying me! I've done all I could for this family, and this is how they repay me?
"I'm. Not. Crazy!" I shrieked. No. I couldn't be crazy. I just kissed Bella's lips, held her hand even!
Jacob pushed past everyone facing me. It was strange. I still couldn't concentrate on their thoughts.
"Where is-er-Bella, sitting?" he asked reluctantly, almost sarcastically.
Knowing exactly where, I pointed sharply at Bella, but still glaring at Carlisle.
He pushed past me, stepping toward Bella.
"Here?" he asked. I turned and he was pointing to Bella, almost touching her soft brown curls. She looked panicked, worried. I nodded.
And then, Jacob sat on her.
I shrieked in defiance, but before I could jump at him, I realized what had happened. He had sat through Bella, not on her.
I gasped.
Bella's shocked figure disappeared before my eyes.
And something strange happened.
That mental wall that had been blocking me from people's thoughts, disappeared as well.
I was bombarded with an explosion of noise. I covered my ears, despreate to get away from it, but than I realized, the noise was just everyone's thoughts.
Jacob was smirking, shouting his pride through his thoughts.
"Oh." I whispered quietly. The same hatred that I had felt earlier came back.
I hated everyone, especially Jacob, for taking Bella away from me. Even a fake Bella was better than a dead one.
And then, that fast heart-beat fluttered in my ear. I focused on her, the thing I hated most of all.
Poor Mommy! Poor Daddy! And it's all my fault! she thought.
I had a sudden urge to comfort her, to tell her that it was all right, and that it wasn't her fault, but mine.
But I repressed the feeling.
No she was the murderer my mind whispered to me.
But there was another piece of me, a small but significant piece, that told me otherwise.
She is the last piece of Bella I had-apart from the actual pieces of her that were in my pocket.
The more I thought about it, the more that part of my mind grew.
It laughed in the face of my hatred, and my hatred shrank back, hiding in some dark corner.
I embraced the feeling to comfort Renesmee.
I pushed passed my family, there pressing concern filling my mind.
I stared at the small girl in Rosailie's arms, and she stared back.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry she thought repeatedly. I smiled sadly at her, suddenly reminded of that crushing pain.
I turned away from her and my family, my expression full of the pain that I didnt want anyone to see.
I carefully put on a blank expression and turned back toward her.
She was reaching for me. She wanted to show me everything that had been happening.
I reached for her.
