The noon-high sun ricocheted off my bare, granite chest. Wavy brown hair, a small smile. The beautiful face was perfect to my lidded eyes, her beauty insurmountable. I internally cringe as a sudden flash of intense pain knifes my un-beating heart. The same face materializes again, and I curse my photographic memory for keeping this picture perfectly preserved in my tortured mind. Bella, my Bella. No, she wasn't my Bella any longer. The memory of her in the forest, tears streaming down her pale cheeks refuses to vacate my agonized thoughts, and I consider stepping from the shadows a bit earlier then planned. I don't though, instead unwillingly having that memory of her face stick fast to my conscious.

I want my last memory of her to be, well… Not the one before me now, anyways. I scrounge my crystallized memories, scanning my favorites. The ones that contain Bella. Ah. Her curious smile, head crooked to the side. This memory was from when I brought her out to watch my family play baseball. This memory was right before she was caught, brutally beaten, and nearly killed because of me.

As always, I remind myself that it was entirely my fault she's gone, knowing full-well that it is. If I hadn't ever put her in danger by falling in love with her, by existing, she would still be alive today. With Bella's luck, she would probably be in a cast, but still alive. A smile lit on my face at that thought as I stared into space, or more accurately, at the damp, slimy wall mere feet from where I stood.

What in the world is he doing? The thought wasn't in English, but I understood it perfectly. Years of extreme boredom had given me time to learn various languages and get endlessly better at playing on my piano. At the thought of my piano, I begin to absently hum Bella's lullaby, aching for her familiar warmth in my stone-like arms. Warmth that I would never feel again. I felt like crying, and wished desperately that I would be allowed a few tears in my last hours to little avail. I sighed, repeating her lullaby to myself over and over.

The clock above the courtyard chimed loudly once, twice, three times. I let the chimes fade into the background, focusing instead on the memory of her smiling face, her light, melodic voice. Her scent hit me strongly then, and I thanked God that I was able to remember her smell, freesias and strawberry shampoo, so distinctly. The voice I was hearing faded into a more anxious one. Her voice broke as she relentlessly screamed my name over and over again. The despair in her voice was like a blade to my chest, twisting painfully as the sound of her pain became mine. I desperately wished to hear her peaceful voice again, but my mind wouldn't conjure anything besides this panicked, pain-filled chorus.

I realized that I'd had my face turned towards the sky, and decided to keep it there. I felt the corners of my mouth lift slightly, not at the anxious thoughts of the townspeople out in the sun, but at the memory of her face. I took a step, and then another. The next, I knew, would be my last, and I relished in that thought. Finally being free of this tortured, hellish existence was the best thing I could image now, besides Bella coming back to life. I almost laughed at myself, and I focused on her hard, lifting my foot to end my existence.

A soft, warm object collided with my granite-like chest, and I reached out quickly to find what had lightly hit me with my hands. My fingers closed around two soft, slender arms carefully, habit keeping my touch light. I opened my eyes, and found myself staring into twin, chocolate orbs. I felt my still heart melt, even as the depthless brown eyes were filled to the brim with anxiety and another emotion. The gates to her soul contained a large amount of relief, and surprisingly, love as well.

Wow, I mused silently. This shows worse mental health then hearing her voice constantly.