EPOV

I crouched down, close to the ground and whispered softly. "I love you, Bella; I'll always love you, no matter what." Then I got up and walked away from the gravestone that said clearly, Isabella Marie Swan

Isabella Marie Swan

1901-1918

She was well loved, and will be missed.

"Goodbye, Bella," A tear slipped through my eyelashes. "I'll see you again soon, very soon."

Red was everywhere; the color of blood. There wasn't a reason for it not to be, it was my own. A silver blade. Wicked looking, good to stab through your stomach. Through the strange bubbling sound my blood was making, I heard a recognizable voice.

"Edward! Why did you do this? Edward? Don't die, Edward. You won't like it, not at all. Edward? Can you hear me?" My eyes closed. I had forgotten what real happiness felt like. I sucked in a small breath and whispered my last words:

"Go to hell."