Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I'm back! I don't know if anyone is still following me after my hiatus on FF, but I'm taking a chance anyway. I know this kind of story has been done before, but I wanted to try it for myself. Take a chance and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

Prologue

When I think about my future, there are always several things I expect to encounter. A stable career, love, and a family. I've never considered death, which is one of the natural occurrences of a human life, and something very inevitable. But funnily enough, people never do seem to think about death.

If someone asks me about it, I would have to think about it for a long moment. Perhaps through a health problem, or, heaven forbid, maybe even a car accident. Preferably, a long, happy life, and death in my sleep. I would certainly never guess from a sexual assault...and certainly not a gunshot wound.

But right now, as I lay dying on the rooftop, with the rain battering down on my broken body, I watch the love of my life fight against what has become the bane of my existence these past few weeks. The anger in his eyes and the determination in his every move is the last thing I see before the world falls black.

Chapter 1

Bella

I pant lightly as I make my way up the stairs to the rooftop of the building I work in. I pause momentarily, looking at the last flight of stairs that leads to the door. Gathering the last ounce of my strength, I heave myself up the stairs and burst out in the night.

I take deep breaths as I make my way to the railings. I stretch my arms, tired from sitting too long downstairs. I lean on the railing as I watch the beautiful city of Seattle below me. Thankfully, the rain is holding back, even if the ground is still wet. The cool air clears my exhausted mind, a side effect of trying to pull an all-nighter in preparation of a meeting the project deadline tomorrow. I shouldn't be too long, since nineteen other people in my group are waiting downstairs, busily typing away on their laptops or creating tangible posters showing data.

I close my eyes, liking the way the breeze ruffles through my hair. Even with the AC circulating the air downstairs, the building itself seems very stuffy. And the rooftop is always perfect for clearing my thoughts or when I need to wake up to meet a deadline.

After a few minutes, I check my watch. I've been gone almost fifteen minutes. I should go back. I wouldn't want anyone to think I've ditched them.

Just as I turn to leave, the rooftop door bangs loudly and flies open. Instinctively, I hide myself behind some spare trash bins beside a huge container box. I hear panicked shrieks and rough cuss words. I peek out carefully, wondering if I'm unfortunate enough to catch a work couple in a lover's quarrel. Instead, I'm startled to see a small but powerful man literally dragging a woman towards the railings.

Shocked, I contain my gasp by pressing my hands to my mouth. I'm frozen with fear. But I can't seem to look away either. I know that it would be unwise for me to show myself to this man. I may be clumsy by nature, but I'm sensible enough to detect danger.

The man throws the woman against the railing, and she catches herself just in time. I can't help but be grateful to the railings for being tall enough to protect anyone who might not be so careful up here.

The woman turns around, gasping for breath. I recognize her immediately, even with the lack of light. It's Jessica Stanley, one of my co-workers and one who should also be downstairs, working to meet the deadline tomorrow. Her lip is torn and her right eye is swelling up rapidly. Her hair, which is normally up in a tight bun, is loose and unkempt. Her eyes are wild with fear. Her blouse is untucked and it looks like a few buttons are missing.

"No, please!" Jessica cries, holding her hands in front of her. "Please!"

I start to shake. She's obviously been heavily abused by this man. I've never seen the man before...or have I? I dare to creep out a little further. I wince when the man strikes her hard.

"Shut up!" he hisses. "You think you can tell me you want to leave me and walk out just like that? Huh?" He slaps her again.

The man is wearing an army green parka, with fur on the hood. He's wearing jeans and combat boots, and his hair is long, unbrushed and greasy. I squint and see that he's unshaved. If he could turn this way a little bit more...he seems very familiar, even his coarse voice.

"No, no, please..." she breathes. "Don't...not anymore..."

"Shut it! Come here!"

To my horror, he rips her blouse open and shoves her skirt up. She screams in terror and tries her best to shove him away. But he's stronger. I take it all in, wanting very much to take my eyes off of the terrible scene but not being able to move. I watch as he fumbles with his pants. I watch as he thrusts into her over and over again as she screams for help. When he's finished, he slaps her again and knocks her down to the wet ground.

I'm shaking. Hard. I'm also aware that I'm hyperventilating. I've never liked Jessica very much and remained professionally polite with her. But no one deserves a fate this cruel. I have to do something. Anything. If I can't confront him personally for fear of my own safety, I have to at least get her help. My phone.

I pat my suit jacket pocket for my phone. I nearly curse out loud. I realize I've left my phone on my desk downstairs. Idiot!

"Get up!" the man growls. He grabs a fistful of Jessica's hair and forcibly drags her up. At this point, she's exhausted and out of strength, and she can only do as he forces her to do.

"Look at me," he snaps. "I said, look at me!" He grabs her throat with one hand, and she begins to gasp for breath.

I know then that she is going to die. Here. Tonight. In the hands of her rapist. Help will never come because her only witness is too much of a coward to confront this man. Tears flood my eyes as I, too, gasp for breath.

"Baby, look at me," he croons. "That's right. Just like that. You know what's going to happen next, don't you?"

I can see the tears dripping down her face. She knows too. This is her last night. His words are the last she'll ever here.

"It's nothing personal, Jess," the man assures her. "But after this damage I've created, I can't exactly let you go scot free. You understand, don't you? I have a hard time dealing with anger management."

"J-Ja-"

"Shh. None of that. I did love you, sweetheart. Why'd you have to go and ruin it?" As he speaks, he pushes her against the railing a little harder.

I stifle my horrified gasp. No!

"You'll always be mine. Even in death." And he shoves, hard.

I barely hold back a scream as Jessica goes over the railing and free falls to her death. This building has exactly thirty floors. I know she's dead, without a doubt. I gasp for breath quickly, trying to keep silent.

The man checks to see his job well done. Screams fill the night air from down below. Looking satisfied, he turns to leave. As he turns, I get a clear glimpse of his face, and I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out loud in shock. Because I know exactly who he is.

He strides out of the rooftop, not even bothering to close the door behind him. I wait for a long time, trying to calm myself. He doesn't come back.

Slowly, I emerge from my hiding place. My legs feel like jelly. I stumble over to the railing and look down. I cover my mouth in shock. I see her there, sprawled out on the roof of a car, her breasts hanging out and her limbs sticking out in impossible angles.

I hyperventilate, sinking down to the ground. The image burns itself into my brain and refuses to fade, even as I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head vigorously. That didn't just happen. That cannot have happened in front of me. No. No.

I hear police sirens wailing in the distance. Screams are still filling the air. Trembling, I do the only thing that makes sense.

I run.

AN: I hope that hooked you in! Review, favorite, and follow!