Alice's vision of Bella's "suicide" from her POV, her pain when she realizes what their leaving has done to her, and her struggle to see this broken girl as Bella. I recognized her at once, but my mind rebelled against calling her by her name, against calling her Bella. She was a different girl, a sadder girl- a broken girl. Short little one-shot
1. Chapter 1
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I recognized her at once, but my mind rebelled against calling her by her name, against calling her Bella. She was a different girl, a sadder girl- a broken girl. It was obvious from the first moment I saw her, obvious even without having to grasp her surroundings and their ghastly connotations. The gusts of wind on the cliff tousled her hair about madly, creating a twisted halo of brown barbed wire around her waxen face. Those frantically dancing wisps of hair were the most alive part about her. It was if she was gone, simply gone, the depth behind her eyes flattened, the presence drained out of her posture, the color gone in her already ivory skin. She was nothing left but a hollow shell of a girl, every hope and dream in her body shunned, every happy memory swept under the rug of her subconscious- too painful to leave out in plain view. Her world had shattered in a single moment of unbearable clarity, shattered into a million glass shards which had all found a way to embed themselves in her heart. She was a sleeping beauty whose prince had never come, who had awoken, unwillingly, to find herself bleeding and dying. It was a look I knew well, a look I hated and feared, the look that I had seen my brother wear for the past six months.
Her pain mocked me, slapped me in the face with the damage we’d caused. The horribly familiar stranger’s eyes fluttered shut as she raised her fragile arms above her head. A smile danced across her lips, a smile of desperation, a crude, brittle imitation of joy. It was a smile that was broken and mangled in every way that she was.
She curled her toes over the rocky edge, tightening the muscles in her legs, leaning forward slightly. She had nothing to live for anymore. She was going to jump, and I could do absolutely nothing to stop her. I had never felt so helpless, watching her about to end her life. I wanted to scream, wanted to grab her and pull her off the edge, wanted to push through those cursed miles between us. I reached out towards her in vain, but my hand grasped nothing. It was the heaviest nothing that I had ever known. And then she flew.
She flew downwards, her hair whipping out behind her in a rippling curtain. For the first time, she seemed genuinely content. Her face, curled around a scream, was full of the sickest, most twisted euphoria that I could possibly imagine. It would be over soon, the pain would end. It would all end. The promise of an end was the only thing that she could dare to hope for anymore.
Tumbling downwards in blissful agony, she had never looked so horrible- or so beautiful. A porcelain doll dropped on the floor, beautifully broken. A sob escaped out of my mouth, and something inside me seemed to pull, to tear, when she hit the water.
She did not resurface.
My knees gave out under me, and I was on the floor of Tanya’s living room, and Jasper was holding me, whispering in my ear, trying to get me to tell him what was wrong. I could only shake my head dizzily, my heart, or soul, or whatever it was that I had, twisting in agony. She was gone. We had killed her. I should have came back, should have told her the truth...
“Bella,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, “what have we done to you?”
Tearless sobs wracked my diamond-hard body. It was the strangest sensation, the grief. I knew that I was invincible, that I could live through this and so much more, but the pain tearing through me was threatening to kill me, to rip out of my chest and swallow me whole.
Oh, how wrong we were to think that immortality meant never dying.