Beautiful Disaster

A One-Shot by: -CullenGirl76-

I was bitter. I was beautiful. I was the source of all jealousy. I was getting married. I was "loved." I would be one of the richest.

Yet, I wanted none of this, especially the bitterness.

I wanted to be really loved, even if that meant I had to be the poorest, ugliest person. I also wanted to have a child. I was so jealous, I had no child, whilst, most of my friends did have friends, and they were loved.

Due to my intense sense of "I'm-so-perfect" (as most people saw me) people saw me as the most beautiful, most perfect woman.

I hated it.

Ugh. Stupid, stupid girl!

I wrapped my coat tighter around me as I shivered in the quiet freezing temperature of night.

Only the occasional street lamp lit my path. I assumed I would be safe on my way home; it was only about two or three more blocks, really.

My stylish boots made tracks in the deep snow. I continued to reassure myself that I was okay, that no body would be outside in this kind of weather. But, of course, I was being the stupid, self-absorbed girl I can honestly be sometimes. Okay, a lot of times.

It was two block until I would reach my unnecessarily large home. Then I heard the laughter.

Even from where I was, I could tell that the group of men was drunk. I could already tell that they were probably still drinking.

I slowed my speed and tried to move quietly.

More boisterous laughter exploded from the small group of men.

They were all standing within the light of one of the street lamps. Bottle of beer littered the street and pavement that surrounded them, poor pavement. More bottles just kept being thrown onto it.

"'Ello, Lady!" One man with a beer-belly slurred, winking clumsily at me. Ugh, great. Now they were all looking at me.

"Oh, mates! Look, it's my fiancé, Rosy. Hey, Rosy! Whatcha doin' out so la—" Royce King Jr. Ugh. Just ugh. His words had been cut off when he staggered against the slick black pole. He hiccupped then gave me a disgusting grin.

Royce King Jr. was (unfortunately) my fiancé. Though, he held no love for me. He cared only for my beauty, money, and the publicity that came with marrying me, Rosalie Hale.

I gave him a disgusted look while trying to inch around all of them.

"Hey, wait here, missy…" Royce said, grabbing my arm. Even though he was drunk, he was still stronger than me. "Don't you go…" he burped unattractively. "Anywhere. We've got something we need you to do."

"Let go of me, Royce." I said with as much fierceness as I could muster. What did he mean by "something we need you to do?" Never, ever trust a man when he is drunk. Drunken men always lead to trouble.

"Nu-uh." He said, managing only to shake his head once.

"Show 'er what you're made o'!" A heavily-built man with a beard yelled. His voice echoed through the dark night.

This frightened me immensely. What were they going to do?

"Come 'ere, sweetie." Royce slurred.

As he pulled my closer, I struggled to get out of his grip. I was trying desperately to call out for help, but one of the men put his filthy hand over my mouth.

Somebody ripped off my coat, and the rest of my clothes soon followed.

As the men beat me, all I could think was, why me? Was it because I thought so highly of myself? Was it because of what I'd done? Because of how I had wished Royce (and many others) dead? My only reasonable answer was a simple three words: God hated me.

I screamed out in pain.

I was too weak to shove this stupid Royce off of me. The nerve.

The pain was intense and difficult to handle, but they threatened worse if I made any more noise. I obliged.

When they finished, I was sobbing. My tears mixed with the blood-stained snow. My clothes were ripped into shreds and scattered everywhere.

They left me, laughing and drinking more beer.

What did I do to deserve this?

I knew I had always been a self-centered little girl, but, surely, I had never done anything that bad to deserve this…Right?

But if I died, that meant I would not have to deal with Royce. I would not have to deal with an un-loving family. I would be able to reborn into a new generation. I would be able to be a new and much, much better person.

I couldn't even feel the cold, though.

The pain that still coursed through my body was enough to fend off everything else.

I was a complete disaster.

A beautiful disaster, if you will.

I was heard foot steps approaching. I wished desperately that it wouldn't be the men; come back to inflict more pain.

For once, I was actually lucky.

"Oh my goodness," I heard a woman's soft, beautiful voice gasp. "Carlisle, do something!"

"I need to get away." A velvet voice snarled rapidly. I heard quick footsteps follow soon after.

"Esme," A man's soft voice rang loudly in my ear, "Get away. I'll take her back later."

"Will you change her?" The voice of the Esme woman (I assumed) inquired, concern filled her voice.

"Yes, it is the only way she will live." The voice that I assumed belonged to Carlisle said.

Then I realized who they were. They were the Cullens, the rich family of three that mostly kept to themselves. What were they doing here? And what was Carlisle going to do? Questions filled my brain as I continued to lie in the snow.

I had no energy left to speak, so instead I continued to sob. Maybe they would help me out. Maybe they could save me.

More quick footsteps.

"Okay, Rosalie Hale." Carlisle's voice murmured close to me. I didn't even have the strength to open my eyes. "This will hurt. I am very, very sorry. Please forgive me."

And that's when the pain of my injuries ended, and a new pain began. With the pain came the beginning for my new life.

Like it, love it, hate it? Which one? Well, I hope you guys enjoyed at least. And sorry for writing yet another useless one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. I am not Stephenie Meyer.

-CullenGirl76-