Playing with words and thoughts, I feel empty. My mind trickles over this paper like leaves lost in a forgotten sewer. Interrupted. I want to step out of the shadows and caress your pale cheek with my hand, but I can't. I want to feel the way you feel underneath me, writhing and aching and saying, "I love you more than anything; I love you more than this world; I love you more than this life." But I can't. My brain, my heart, my song. It wants you. It wants everything you have. It wants everything that I know I need, but can't have.

I rip out page after page. This stupid, aching, self-indulging shit. I am forgotten, I am nothing. I think of the future only to realize there is none. There is nothing but this stupid feeling in my chest that I thought you could cure, but you can't. It rips inside me like a tidal wave, pushing against my insides with irresistible force. You led me to you like some sick fire. Some sick fire that intrigued me, that made me want to come ever closer. I should've known you were only danger. I should've known I was just kidding myself. But I didn't. I wanted you. I wanted to touch you.

restless abomination

disgusting incantation

feeling a revelation

wasted on your concentration

fighting with your indignation

suffering in exultation

flying with no destination

trapped inside my frustration

I feel it inside of me. If only you could feel it inside of you, too. Then we could be perfect. We could be like angels. We could be fantastic. But you ruined it. I ruined it. I fell. I feel. I fall. There is nothing left for me here. I know that, even being melodramatic. I watch as you walk away just as the sun sets, leaving nothing but darkness in a night with no stars. This poetic language is crap. It is all crap. I just want and want and want. I want you to return to me. I want things that I cannot change.

Fight me

Break me

Move me

Take me

Want me

Touch me

Feel me

Love me

Cry for me

Die for me

Pray for me

Save me

Need me

Like I need you. There's a roaring in my ears that I can't stop now. I couldn't stop it if I wanted to. I couldn't stop this emotion. I couldn't save myself just like I couldn't save you. You're lost to me now. You're dead to me now. You're dead to everyone now.

But I still love you.

Just like the fucking sin that I am.

Ask for me tomorrow, and

you shall find me a grave man,

Edward Masen

#

I put down the notebook. It closes with a snap. Over a century of writings and the only entries that matter are the final eight. How worthless my existence has been. How inconsequential. I have made far less impact than humans who have lived but a fourth of my time. In fact, I have not made any impact at all.

Bella left ages ago. Is it possible for a heart that does not beat to hurt? If someone told me 'no', I would have to beg to differ. I am restless. I am consumed. My entire body aches for her. How is such strong emotion even a possibility? How is it that humans are able to contain it? To embrace it? I don't understand it. I can't comprehend it. Maybe years of existence does nothing to prepare for situations such as these. Maybe, no matter how long I love, it won't hurt any less.

My muscles seem to be frozen in their positions. My couch still smells a bit like Bella. Human Bella. A year later, the potency remains. My attraction is painfully undeniable. I pick up the journal resting on my legs. I have a very vague memory of receiving it from my father, Edward Senior. On the very first page Edward Anthony Masen is written in script lettering, followed by the date, February 16, 1917. A small note—from my mother, I assume—is written in the lower left hand corner in hasty scrawl. It reads, "To my son, for him to forever catalogue the wonders of life to share with generations to come."

What a riot.

I slide the journal beneath the couch and stand. My mind is dead set in the action that it wants to take. Suddenly, I understand Demetri's sentiment with perfect clarity. I am tired. There is nothing left for me here. I am not sure anyone will even notice my absence. Maybe Carlisle, eventually. He might even mourn for a certain amount of time. Mourn his blatant failed endeavor in creating me. But, eventually, he will move on. Everyone will move on. I will be nothing more than a brief memory—or a brief blip—in their endless existences.

That thought comforts me in a perverse sort of way. I make sure that everything in my room is put away before I leave it. I am not entirely sure why I am doing this, but I realize that somewhere, deep down, I am stalling.

Maybe I don't want to die.

I push the thought aside and leave the room with only one quick last glance. I check my watch—11:45. Only fifteen more minutes until noon. Perfect. The Great Room is almost entirely empty, save for the two people I want to see the least. Of course, Aro and Bella are speaking quietly in the corner of the room. It looks almost as though Aro is consoling Bella. She is whispering quickly, almost frantically, and Aro's hand rests on her shoulder. He is listening to her with a look of sympathy I have never seen on his face before. Not in my entire existence.

I make a small noise as I walk through the hall. It is enough to alert them both of my presence, and I watch as their eyes snap to my face. I see my expression mirrored in Aro's mind: desolate and destroyed, yet determined. Serene. I watch Bella's face as I walk. After all, she's all I see. I am still moving slower than usual. I am still stalling. I watch her face contort as she tries to deduce where I'm headed. Her lips part and her brow furrows. She is still perfect.

I hear Aro murmur, "Just use your power if you want to keep him here." The last thing I see before I exit the hall is her shaking her head, 'no.' Of course. Why would she want me to stay with her, anyway? She doesn't love me.

That thought propels me out the door and into the middle of Volterra's annual festival. The sun is thick, if something like that is possible. It is thick with the sweat of every human, packed together like a tin full of ruby sardines. They cheer, whoop, holler as the procession rolls past. I watch in relative apathy. This alleyway is cloaked in shadows. Closest to me stands a quaint Italian family. The youngest daughter notices me standing, staring. She turns toward me with the curiosity of the young, tugging on the bright red robes of her mother.

The first bell tolls.

I smile. The young girl is alerted to some sort of danger present. Her expression is now one of innocent worry.

The second bell tolls.

She tugs harder on her mother's robes. But her mother, blissfully ignorant, continues to watch the exciting procession.

Three, four, five tolls.

I take off my black robes. They drop to the stone floor of the alley and I feel infinitely lighter. The young girl is really staring now. I smell her fear. I focus on it and block everything else out.

There have been eleven tolls now.

I begin moving forward, the edges of my shoes dancing in the sunlight. My body impersonates what the rush of adrenaline should be like. I feel high. I feel free.

The last toll rings out over the crowd.

I take a deep breath and step forward, surrounded by sunlight. It's warm. It's probably warmer than I've ever felt, save for human Bella. I force myself from the dangerous train of thought and step further into the sun. This feels good. I hope this is the last feeling in my existence. I almost feel whole.

"Momma," cries the young girl in Italian. She sees me as the freak that I am. After her mother's gasp of a response, I know it won't be long. I find myself wondering if it will hurt when they kill me for breaking the rules. I don't fear it, though. I don't fear it because I know that it is a means to an end. More people are staring now. I can sense it though I still haven't opened my eyes. Their thoughts are loud, intrusive. They wonder if I'm dangerous. They wonder if I am merely a spectacle of the show.

I don't have time to hear the rest, for my forearms are grasped by cold hands and pulled behind my back, followed by a deep black cloak thrown over my body. Briefly, I wonder if they are going to kill me now. Do I even deserve a trial when I have broken the rules so obviously?

I am being led back underneath Volterra by two guards I don't bother to recognize. I could probably escape them if I truly wanted to, but I can't summon the effort to try. After all, this is what I want, even if it will take longer than what is ideal. I keep my eyes on the stone floor as we walk. No need to face curious, unwanted stares.

Pressure on my shoulder forces me down to my knees, followed by an arm keeping my head bowed. I hear Aro, Marcus, Caius and one other walk into the room. The privacy of these trials is a fallacy—I can hear the rest of the Guard listening just outside the door. After all, it is once in a blue moon that a member of the Guard has committed a crime and is on trial for it. I smile humorlessly to myself. I have made quite the scene. Caius is chuckling quietly to himself, and Aro heaves a sigh of annoyance.

"Let him up," Aro mumbles almost reluctantly. The two vampires release my neck and arms, only to grab onto my shoulders and pull me into a standing position. I look up to find the fourth, previously unknown vampire to be Bella. She doesn't even meet my eye.

"Why did you have to unleash yourself in the middle of my party?" Marcus asks, referring to the St. Marcus Day festival the humans are currently celebrating. His hurt tone would be mildly amusing if I wasn't so impatient to just get this over with.

Aro isn't as depressed. No, Aro is angry.

"You stupid boy," he snaps. "You had so much promise. So much. And what do you do? You pull a stunt. You waste it. Is this how ungrateful you are to have such an outstanding talent?" At the end of Aro's tirades I always find the stem of his jealousy.

Instead of fighting his ludicrous reasoning, I simply mutter, "Yes."

"And now you want to die for this? You are aware that is the punishment for your actions, of course," Caius speaks, amused.

"Yes," I respond again, completely monotone. Bella flinches. Caius' smirk drops slightly. He doesn't like it that I am going down without a fight. Aro sighs again, pinches his nose. Marcus still looks hurt that I interrupted his precious festival.

"Edward, come here," Aro requests, holding out his hand lazily. I step forward slowly and watch as Aro grasps my hand. The last 48 hours play out like a dream behind my eyelids. When it is finished Aro's brow is furrowed. He throws one fleeting glance in Bella's direction before speaking. "Well, it doesn't seem as though you've left any room for salvation, Edward. Very well."

He waves a hand, gesturing for me to return to my former position. I kneel down and close my eyes, wondering which Guard member is going to be lucky enough to rip me apart. There is a long moment of silence before Aro speaks again.

"Well, Bella, dear. Go ahead, then."

Bella and I both look up at the same time. Our eyes meet. If she touches me I'll change my mind. I know it for a fact. I'm not strong enough.

"Someone else," I request desperately. Caius laughs long and hard.

"Beggars can't be choosers, Edward," Aro scolds.

"I can't have her touch me," I say quietly, though everyone can hear. Bella looks upset and Aro looks positively amused.

"Have you not heard of Bella's power yet?" Aro asks, feigning shock. "She can make you do whatever she wants—kill yourself, even—without even touching you." His lips curl into a smile.

"But only one person at a time," Caius interjects, not one to be usurped. "Quite a shame, really." Aro nods in response, seeming to agree that Bella's lack of complete power is a shame.

My eyes flash between Aro and Bella, disbelieving.

"Don't believe me?" Aro asks with excitement, eager to demonstrate. "Bella, why don't you try it out on Marcus?"

"Hey –" Marcus begins to protest, but is cut off by Aro's threatening glare. He grumbles to himself and shifts around in his seat. I watch with anticipation as both Bella and Marcus's eyes go glassy, almost as though they are covered with a thin sheen of smoke. Aro claps in amusement when Marcus stands in a jolting, stunted fashion. He spins around awkwardly and then sits back down. Shortly thereafter their eyes return to a normal, bloody red.

"My little puppeteer!" Aro exclaims. "Don't you understand, Edward? She could see out of Marcus's eyes. She could control his every movement. Marcus had absolutely no control in the matter!" Bella still stands motionless and mute. I look at her eyes and she widens them as if to communicate with me. I only have time to tilt my head to the side in question before Caius captures my waning attention.

"Let's get on with it, then!" he calls out. "I am thoroughly bored."

"Yes, yes, of course," Aro replies, calming down to a more solemn demeanor. "Go ahead, Bella. The law shall proceed."

Bella may not be my judge or jury, but she is certainly my executioner.

I close my eyes and anticipate the blow.

It doesn't come. Instead, for the first time since she left my room earlier, I hear her speak.

"Perhaps I could do it in private," she requests softly, slowly. My eyes open again and she is standing next to Aro. Too close, playing with his emotions. His hand rests on her outer thigh. My muscles tense up. She leans in further, closer. "You know, to say good bye. After all, he is the one who changed me. Maybe I want a little payback. With us, it's personal. You understand. . . ." She continues to talk, to coerce, until Aro nods his approval.

"I suppose, though Caius will not be happy," Aro sighs, and Caius harrumphs in agreement. I don't know why she's doing this to me. It's making me insane. Does she truly want to prolong this? I suppose I can't blame her, after all of the pain I've caused. If it wasn't for me she wouldn't be here in the first place, after all.

I suddenly remember that I never even told Carlisle good bye.

The thought hits me like a ton of bricks as I stand and slowly follow Bella from the room. Marcus looks relieved that we're finally out of his hair, but I feel the disappointment emanating from Caius and the group of vampires huddled just outside of the door. It is curious, how living an eternity makes one long for violence. It's a desensitization that occurs over time, I suppose. It's safe to say that the twenty-first century has been a boring one for the Volturi, if this is their most exciting activity. Bella leads me down some hallways that I know by heart. It looks as though she knows them now, too.

It is strange, being led around by the person I had to protect for what felt like ages. Bella doesn't give anything away, though. She doesn't even turn around until we reach the end of the hallway. I recognize it to be Carlisle's old study. It must be Bella's now, for other objects line the walls that are distinctly foreign to me. She sits down in a large chair in the far corner of the room, only to stand up just moments later. I watch her silently, keeping close to the door as if I were going to run. As if I even could run.

Suddenly, she pulls something out from beneath her robes and throws it at me. It collides with my chest but I keep it from falling. I recognize it immediately to be my journal. She stares at me.

"You're so stupid!" she suddenly cries out, turning away from me. I sincerely hope that no one is close enough to hear us speaking, for it is exactly the opposite of what we are supposed to be doing. "That's your journal, isn't it?"

I only nod. After all, my name is written on the first page.

"Who's it about? Who are you writing to in these last few?"

"I don't know what you mean," I reply, lying blatantly.

"You address every entry to someone. It has to be to someone," she snaps back. She seems angry but there's also something else.

"Maybe it's to everyone –" I being, but she cuts me off.

"Don't give me that, Edward. Just tell me the truth." She can tell straight away that I'm lying. I pause for a few moments, clenching and unclenching my fists. I suppose it's now or never, anyway. It won't make a difference whether I tell her or not.

"It's to you."

"And you were never going to give it to me?" She's still angry.

"No."

"Why not?" Still angry.

"Because it was private, if you couldn't tell." I hold it close to my chest like a small child. "I guess that didn't stop you, though." The pages are ruffled. She read it. I can't tell whether to be mortified or relieved.

"You can't have something be private and written to me," she snaps. I notice she's come much closer to me in these last few minutes. "And, yes, you're right. It didn't stop me. I read it."

And then I expect to be dead but she's actually kissing me. Her arms are around my neck, and it's sort of strange because she's no longer warm or soft. I freeze up for a moment until she pulls me closer and I can feel every single line of her body beneath her robes. I kiss her hard then, because I don't have anything left and I never had anything left. It has always been hers.

"I love you," she gasps, and it's as though every part of me is filled. "You're so stupid, but I love you."

"I don't deserve it," I mutter.

"I know," she agrees. And that's that.

That's all that matters.

I feel every part of her that I can hold on to, and she's doing the same to me. The journal falls between us, completely forgotten. Her legs are wrapped around my middle and we are heading toward the only chair in the room when a knock sounds at the door.

All movement ceases and we stare at each other, waiting. We're both panting slightly. Bella's hair falls about her face in this ridiculously beautiful sort of way, and I'm distracted from whoever is behind the door with the need to touch it.

There is another, louder knock.

Edward you better let me in that door right this second.

I immediately recognize the tenor of the thoughts to be Demetri. Bella drops to the floor and moves closer to the door, still tentative.

"It's okay. It's Demetri," I say quietly, then step around her and open the door. Demetri slips inside and the door snaps shut with a quick click.

"Why are you still here?" I ask. "I thought. . ."

"I'm still here for you, Edward. I was contacted by Alice . . . friend of Carlisle's, apparently. Anyway, she said this is the only way you two would live. So here I am."

"You couldn't have told me this beforehand?" I almost growl.

"No, I couldn't. She said that you wouldn't make the same decisions. Edward, just shut up and trust me, okay? We have to work quickly."

I only nod. Bella looks both worried and bewildered. I mask my fear and focus on what Demetri says. The only way you two would live.

"Listen. We take you out the back way, fake a bit of a fight. When we get enough attention, I let you through and run back to Aro. I convince him to let you run because I will be able to track you down easily, and then it will be a punishable offense for running away from the Guard. Sound good?" Demetri is talking quickly. He checks his watch and frowns. "Come quickly, we're running out of time."

We chase Demetri down the hall and out to one of the more obscure exits. We stand in silence for a moment before Demetri signals. We immediately begin to fight. I am thrown over Bella by Demetri's arm, while she calls out in her struggle. We make eye contact and I jump up, pressing my shoulder into Demetri's chest and making an imprint with his body in the stone wall. I growl and snap at his neck. Bella takes over with her power. It then looks as though Demetri throws himself to the ground. We here a distant call and Bella relinquishes her grasp on Demetri.

"Run," he hisses, and that is all we need. We hurtle out into Volterra and down the cobblestone streets. Humans gasp as a whoosh of air rushes past them, though they do not see our bodies. We are miles out of Volterra before we slow our pace in the slightest. We make it to the airport and take the first plane anywhere.

"Edward?"

The plane is rising in altitude. She is the first to speak. I look toward her, watching the ground fall away from the window just behind her right shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"What on earth are you sorry for?" I ask, shocked.

"I lied to you."

I almost laugh.

"Well then I should be the sorriest person in the world, shouldn't I?" A chuckle manages to escape.

"I'm being serious," she says sternly. My laughter falls away.

"Sorry," I amend. "What did you lie about?"

"When I said I didn't love you," she begins, but trails off. I run my hand up and down her arm. She speaks again. "I did it because I was scared, and because I didn't want you to have to spend a hundred years with me, only to regret it."

How woefully similar we are.

"I forgive you," I smile, because she never even had to apologize.

We land in Turkey.

We visit many countries I can't possibly list. Eventually no one trails us. We eventually end up with Carlisle's coven. He has moved many times, and is currently settled in the small, lazy town of Forks, Washington. Bella says that she lived here once, when she was a human. Of course, all her relatives are long dead now. We even attend her old high school, which is sort of a laugh. Bella hates everything about high school. I once caught her trying to leave through the small window in the girl's bathroom.

Alice shows us how she elaborately plotted our escape. I remember to try and make an effort with her. After all, she saved both of our lives. She also shows us Demetri's suicide after placating Aro. He was smiling.

We never marry. We figure it's best that we don't. It isn't like that for us, anyway.

For us, it's different.

UNKNOWN POV

I run through the thick wilderness. They're still following me. I don't know who they are. It has to have been weeks now. They don't stop. They won't stop. I launch myself over a tree and fly through the air, the wind whistling around my body as I hurtle past solid objects. I land on the cushion of underbrush and take off again, jumping over lakes and rivers and streams like mere hurdles. They're steadily gaining on me. I don't know what I can do to stop them anymore.

I don't even know why they would want to kill me.

I zig zag through more forest, only to find myself at the top of a tall, sheer cliff. I could always jump in and swim, though the water looks treacherous beneath me and I am very tired of fleeing. I know that if I were to jump, they would simply jump after me.

These are not humans that I am running from; these are vampires.

I back toward the edge of the cliff and threaten to jump. My trained eyes watch as four or five vampires emerge from the dense underbrush, all of which are adorned with heavy black cloaks. Two of them step forward and move the cloaks in order to show their faces. It is a boy and a girl, and they both look disturbingly young. The girl smiles, her lips the color of ruby red.

"Hello. You're quite the runner, aren't you?" When she speaks her voice is soft and innocent like a young child. I am drawn closer.

"I'm good at it," I say abruptly, not wanting to give too much away.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"James," I reply. The vampires behind her are advancing. I begin to back toward the cliff again.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, James. You wouldn't mind coming with us for awhile, would you? Our leader has a great interest in meeting you." She begins to walk forward as if my answer doesn't even matter.

"What if I don't want to go?" I ask. I know this is dangerous. I can smell it.

Only moments after the last word escapes my mouth I am writhing in agonizing pain. Doubled over, I twitch on the forest floor. My body fights for a moment and then gives up, giving into the pain. Almost as quickly as it comes, it is gone. I move to my feet as deftly as possible.

She is smiling.

"Did you say something about not wanting to go?" she asks politely.

I shake my head, for I have a distinct feeling that she is the one who caused the pain.

"Fantastic," she grins, and we all head out of the forest together. We travel for many hours, even taking a plane. By the time we get to our destination it is pitch black outside. I know we are in Italy due to the airport, but beyond that I am lost. I stay close to these people, even though I have an idea that I will die at their hands eventually.

But I recognize power and I respect it.

We enter a small city and descend underneath it, through elevators and tunnels and all sorts of devices. Eventually we enter a very large room, where three decrepit vampires sit on great thrones made of stone. The young girl goes up and talks to the three, motioning to me only briefly before leaving. The rest of the vampires beside me trickle away, leaving me alone with these three vampires. The one in the middle—dark hair, polite smile—steps forward and beckons me over.

"James, is it?" he asks when within ear shot.

I nod.

"I hear you are a great tracker. It may be said that your gift is location, am I correct?" He speaks softly, slowly, but I can sense his excitement.

I nod again.

"Fantastic!" he exclaims. "I have a little job for you."

#

Italicized quotes belong to Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Har har, Mercutio being punny.

For the handful of you out there that read this little guy, thank you so much for spending your time doing so. I really appreciate that you all hang with me even though I'm still working on my writing technique.

I have some recs. I figure for the very last chapter I ought to send you somewhere else now.

First, Dead on my Feet by CescaMarie. This is definitely my favorite on my alerts, by far. I love her dialogue, and, especially, her Edward. I'm always eagerly awaiting her updates.

Grand Jete by stella luna sky. This one is just getting started but I'm sort of obsessed with stella luna sky's writing in general. No big deal or anything.

I'm also reading A Portrait of a Girl by Zors. I really like it so far. Totally recommend it (uh, obviously). Her Bella is totally headstrong and awesome. Also, she's pretending to be a dude.

Thanks guys!

See you next time?

J xx