Not enough for forever
If Edward hadn't changed Bella. If she died. What would happen?
This just kind of came to me out of the blue. Please don't blame me for grammatical errors--they weren't intentional! This is strictly a one-shot, btw. And, as always... Disclaimer: All of the characters involved in this story are the property of Stephanie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
1. Chapter 1
Rating 4.5/5 Word Count 1259 Review this Chapter
I stood on the edge of a cliff. This was the exact point from which Bella had thrown herself off approximately seventy years ago. The black water still churned from underneath me. This place brought back memories—painful ones. My Bella had jumped here once because of me. I was here because of her. I had to face the bitter facts—Bella was irreversibly dead.
I was the one who had made this choice and subjected my love to this fate. I refused to change her, to damn her for eternity, if you will. Now, looking back, I wondered why I did that. Fate was cruel. Life was crueler; especially when it was taken from you. Of course, as a vampire, I was, in the technical sense of the world—dead. My heart hadn’t beat for almost two centuries. My silent heart hurt now, like everything in it was clawed out and hollow. I was hollow. Now, for the first time in my existence as a human and a monster, my heart was broken. Shattered into shards that would never be whole again. Like the shaken up pieces of a puzzle, my ‘life’ was falling apart.
I knew I would never see my one and only Isabella Marie Swan ever again—dead or alive, in heaven or hell. Bella was going to heaven, if there was such thing. I, on the other hand was eternally cursed as a vampire and would be headed for the place of suffering and fire—hell.
Why, oh why, did I deny my angel the future that she had wanted? I desired it, too. But my conscience, my stupid conscience, bound me tight and I didn’t turn her. In one corner of my mind, there was still reasoning that was protecting my decisions long ago. I now knew that those facts were wrong, as logical as they may seem. At least she would be here with me right now. She would still have the mesmerizing, sweet smell that she always had.
Bella was dead. The news just came to me yesterday. Alice was the one who told me. She had seen it happen too late. Ten minutes before she died, to be exact. I plainly refused to go to the funeral following. The thought of Bella, dead, lifeless, cold like stone, was unbearable. She would never seek the shelter of my arms again when she cried. She would never laugh or smile at her own clumsiness or my inadequate jokes again. I would never catch her the many times she stumbled, never carry her on my back when I traveled. I couldn’t let these thoughts catch up to me. So I ran away from my fears, like a coward would.
I thought back to those discussions we had and heard voices from long ago…
“You do know that I’ll eventually die, right?”
“I’ll follow after as soon as I can.”
“That is seriously…sick.”
The words of my one love haunted me. They starred in my dreams. I rarely feared anything, but this was one thing that sent chills down my spine. I knew I had made the wrong decision. I contemplated all those times I had said no to the future Bella wanted. All those times I had practically sealed her death certificate. I was the one who let her die. I was the one. The wrong one. The selfish, no good, ill-fated one.
I could hear my angel’s voice as clearly as I had heard it the day I had asked the Volturi to die. The day she found me in the shadows of an alley in Italy.
“No! Look at me, Edward!”
It was too late. This time, I had already made my decision. Bella’s stricken voice called to me from what seemed like eons ago, on another planet. I couldn’t have heard anything that lovely before, had I? It was too late. I had already made my decision. Seventy years previously, I had promised to die after my love did. I was planning to keep that promise.
I leaned forward, trying to inhale Bella’s intoxicating scent from so many years past. No avail. There was nothing there, just the salty scent of the sea. Nothing there.
I prepared to launch myself off the edge, the muscles in my legs tightening. Then, I leaped and fell.
And fall I did. No one ever said that vampires weren’t allowed to jump off cliffs. I made a deafening crash in the water. I felt as heavy as a boulder. I could’ve swam, but I didn’t. We can’t kill ourselves by drowning, I knew that much. I did this for a different reason. Someone would be coming soon. To end me. I wouldn’t fight them, either. This agony had to end.
I heard the sound of the splashes in the water before they were even close. There were four of them. All of them were exactly like the pack from generations past. Probably the offspring of Jacob, Sam, and the others. There was even one that looked like Jake. Huh.
The werewolves were coming nearer to me by the second. All of their eyes were wild, apparently ready for a fight if it came down to it. There were low growls ripping from all of their throats. I had intruded upon the reserve and broken the treaty. The treaty stated that they were free to kill me.
They were upon me now, dark eyes flashing in the dimness of twilight. They looked hungry, bloodthirsty even. Like me, I mused to myself. Even at my dying moment, I knew that I would never regret doing this. I would forever hate myself for not changing Bella, but not this. I wanted to die. I never wanted to feel the pain of it again. No, not ever. I never wanted to lose something that infinitely precious. If I died, I would never have to lose anything but my life. It was a deal.
The pack was just a few inches away from me. They stared. Then, one of them, the Alpha, nodded their head. The werewolves lunged at me. I held out my hands protectively in front of my face. That was all the protection I would give myself.
The pain was agonizing, and I couldn’t stop it. It was even worse than when Carlise had changed me. Fire ran over my vision, and then everything turned pitch black. My world, my everything, was gone. The last thing that flashed at me before the darkness was Isabella, my one only love’s pale and heart-shaped face. Her lips were like fresh rose petals, the blush on her cheeks was exactly as it was a century or so ago. Her mouth was open in a smile, and her face was crinkled because she was grinning so big. It was an eighteen-year old Bella Swan. In my memory, she would always look so lovely, so warm and innocent. I could smell her sweet la tua cantante blood. I inhaled mouthwatering freesia. Her smell.
“Bella.” I couldn’t see anything. My hand was outstretched as a farewell gesture to the world, my family, and my love. The name of my angel echoed through my head, and that was all I could hear. Through the pain and gory, Bella’s name still lived my mind.
And when the final hour for me came, I came to realize that Isabella Marie Swan still lived in me. Her spirit was up there, somewhere. She was alive.