The blonde hair whipped up around the woman's head like a fan as her body hit the ground. She still had the same shocked expression on her face when she had first seen me flying towards her, teeth bared. She hadn't made a noise, no screaming, nothing.

I stepped back from the body. Horrified…mixed with the sweet sensation of satisfaction; my throat no longer burned with the scorching lust for the woman's blood. That horrified me even more.

I killed a woman; a perfect stranger. And part of me liked it.

I knelt by the woman's side and reached out to touch her cheek. Her soft skin was still warm, but it felt oddly stiff under my rock fingers. Her brown eyes were still open, gazing ahead into the woods. Seeing and unseeing.

She was probably 26 or 27. She still had a whole life ahead of her. She probably had a boyfriend, maybe even a husband. She probably had a job – a job she had worked hard for. Maybe she had started at the bottom, working through the grueling hours of a 9-5 position just to get to where she was then. She had friends. They probably went out every Friday night, either out to eat or to grab a movie. Maybe she had a daughter. She probably lived a happy life, with her husband, friends and daughter, and was looking forward to the afternoon walk she had planned. It was just a short escape, a time to think about her life; the life that was still ahead of her.

I had taken that from her.

I reached up and closed the lids over the large brown eyes and stood.

Never again. Never again would I be tempted. Even now, blood pooled at my feet, the scent while still tempting held none of its original power. Whenever I was within reach of humans I would see her face. I would see 26-27 year old blonde, with the perfectly happy life. The woman I had killed. I would see her and I would forget the burn in my throat and I would be able to turn away.

I left her where she would be found easily. The least I could do was to ensure her a proper burial, one where her loved ones could say their goodbyes. Her death would be made no more than another brutal animal attack. Maybe I would leave an anonymous call at the police station. I covered the blood covered stone path with dirt. I knew the next rain would wash all traces of the blood away.

I ripped off the remnants of my torn bloodied jacket and threw it in the small winding river and I started my run toward Forks.

Charlie would be at work, or so I hoped. I had no idea how long I had been half dead in the field. Days…weeks? No, not weeks. Surely someone would have found me lying motionless in the field.

I wouldn't be able to say goodbye, that much I was sure of. I would take enough clothes and belongings that it wouldn't be noticeable. I would have to empty my bank account, which would look suspicious, but with no other means of living besides off the land, what else could I do? I would empty it in town so as to give no reason for anyone to look for me. I'd leave my truck at the opening to the forest; someone would find it and report it. Maybe my disappearance would become nothing but a mystery. Did she run away, or was she killed? Kidnap rumors would run rampant at school, but soon it would become nothing but whispers. Bella Swan, the amazing disappearing girl.

I got to the edge of town within minutes and to my house even faster. The cruiser was gone from the driveway, so either Charlie was at work or searching. Searching for his lost daughter.

God…Charlie. I would miss him. Renee, Jessica, Angela, Mike. All of the faces from my human life. Friends and family I was forced to leave behind.

Everything seemed so strange, so backward. With Edwards as my future, and the Cullens as my family, this life had seemed like it would be fulfilling enough that I would never have to think about what I was giving up.

With no knight in shining armor here to save me and no family to become apart of, the realization of what I had to do pierced my unmoving heart like a knife.

My room was how I had left it. I grabbed the new blue backpack I had yet to use and started to fill it. Jeans, my favorite shirts, another pair of shoes, sunglasses, and other essentials. It fit nicely, and there was room enough to fit in one or two remembrances of this life. I grabbed my CD player and the small case of CDs. I grabbed a photo of Renee, and the only one I had of Charlie.

I stopped in the bathroom, wondering what exactly a vampire needed hygiene-wise when I saw her.

She stood about my height, with dark chestnut waving hair that fell to her back. Her face was impeccably shaped, like a perfect heart, with a startling pale and beautiful complexion. She had full red lips and a beautifully shaped nose. Whoever she was, she was breathtakingly beautiful.

I blinked and the woman followed suit. A shocked expression fell across her face, at the same moment I realized who was looking back at me from the mirror, and as I realized the reason behind the menacing red eyes.

The front door downstairs clicked and I instinctively stopped breathing. I heard Charlie enter the front door, his footfalls shuffling uncharacteristically on the wooden floor. I heard the metal thud as he dropped his gun and belt on the floor. On the floor? That was odd; he dutifully hung his gun on the hook by the door whenever he came home. The footsteps sounded through the kitchen where I heard an exasperated sigh and the retreating steps back to the living room. He fell unceremoniously into his favorite chair and I waited for his breaths to become shallow and even before daring to go downstairs.

He seemed unkempt, to say the least. Large bags sagged under each eye and his clothes had the scruffy appearance of having been lived in for several days.

Guilt coursed through me as I realized this was probably the first rest he had gotten in…who knows long. How long had I been gone?

I took one cautious breath, remaining a good 10 feet away from his sleeping form. The scent hit the back of my throat, and the scorching started again. Like I had promised myself though, I controlled it. I took another deep breath, getting used to the torture. After several minutes, the ache dulled slightly, but not enough that I trusted myself to be closer than the 10 feet away I was.

"Dad," I whispered, scarcely loud enough for faint human ears to hear, but not loud enough to wake him from his slumber. "I love you Dad. I love you more than anything. Moving here was the best decision I ever made. I got to know you again." The separation that was coming made it easier to speak my mind. I had never been so open with him, even if he had been passed out asleep when I was human. But at this moment, I needed him to know.

"I'm going to be alright. Trust me. I'm a survivor, just like you. I'm sorry I put you through this; I hope you can forgive me. Be happy Dad. I chose this, in a way. I don't know where I'm going or what I'm going to do, but I'm going to be alright."

I took a cautious step toward the chair, and then another. As carefully as I could, I placed my hand on his. "I love you Dad." The distressed expression smoothed over, and it seemed like he fell into a more restful sleep.

And with that I ran out the back door of the home I could never again return to.