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My Singer

What if Edward had been unable to resist the temptation of Bella's blood on that fateful day? What if it resulted in her transformation? Would their love story be the same?

Even though I say this is angsty, I'm not generally an angst writer. I tend to try to have a good balance, so this isn't anything too hardcore. I'm not completely sure of whether or not there will be more angst in future chapters or what.

2. Chapter 2

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 1531   Review this Chapter

I feel stone crash against me, yanking me away from the crumpled human figure. His thoughts are screaming random facts about the girl, and I remember my sister Alice's words at lunch today: "It helps if you think of them as people."

She's from Phoenix, Arizona,
he tells me. Carlisle continues to shout in my head as he wrestles me into the living room. Don't breathe, he commands. I continue to inhale the scent of blood as it wafts from the next room.

It's growing cold
, my thirst tells me.

Don't breathe, Carlisle thinks again. Some part of me manages to stop breathing and I am suddenly capable of thought again. Despite the fact that I can still taste the sweet blood on my tongue, guilt begins to wash over me as I realize what I've just done. "Go. Go home, Edward," Carlisle says out loud. I run--I have to run, or else I'll go right back and finish her off--and don't breathe again until I'm in my room.

I sit on the couch, holding my head in my hands as my humanity returns, accompanied by an overwhelming feeling of remorse. Why? I wonder silently. Why had I allowed myself to lose control? And why is this stupid girl so appetizing? Of course, my solitude is only temporary. Rosalie bursts through the door, seething with rage. "How could you--? Why would you--?" she splutters wildly. Her thoughts are incoherent, merely random images flashing through her head. They finally stop on one picture that causes me to freeze where I'm sitting; it's the image of a single wolf.

"The Quileutes," I murmur softly.

"You've broken the treaty!" she hisses. "You've killed a human!" I can only blink in response as more images race through her mind. "You did kill her, didn't you?" she asks slowly.

"I--well, I don't exactly know for sure. Carlisle made me leave." Her eyes widen in shock before narrowing into an icy glare.

"Nice job, Edward," she spits, storming from the room. A new worry arises: what will become of Isabella Swan? Killing her is disgusting enough, but condemning her to my own fate is simply reprehensible. I can hear Alice's familiar thoughts outside of my door.

"Come in," I say. She enters solemnly, taking a seat beside me. "Is she dead?" I ask. Alice looks straight ahead before answering, a frustrated expression on her face as she searches the future.

"I can't see anything about her." I sigh. At least she won't be forced to live as a monster. "But that doesn't necessarily mean anything, Edward--"

"How did Carlisle know?" I ask, trying to change the topic. "About me attacking her, I mean." The memory plays back in Alice's head:

She walks slowly to the school parking lot, followed by the others. "Where is he?" Emmett wants to know.

"He probably just ditched again and forgot to tell us," Alice says, shrugging. Had she not been completely focused on Jasper, she may have suspected that something was wrong.

"I'll race you home," Emmett says to Rosalie, who smiles slightly. The group walks casually until they reach the forest, where they all take off running. They arrive at the house to find that my Volvo is not in the garage.

"Alice..." Jasper begins, but she isn't listening. She sees me in the kitchen of the Swan house, devouring the human girl's blood.

"Carlisle!" she screams, rushing inside.

The memory ends abruptly. "Sorry," Alice apologizes. The rest isn't important--just us, trying to stop you. Carlisle was the only one able to be around blood for long enough to pull you away, she continues silently.

It dawns upon me that I hadn't been imagining their voices; they'd really been calling out to me in their heads, and I'd stupidly assumed that it was my guilt trying to fool me. Alice straightens up in her seat, listening to something intently. I can hear a car pulling into the garage. Seconds later, the front door opens and I recognize Carlisle's thoughts.

Where can I put her? he asks himself. Then the overwhelming aroma hits me and I know that she is still alive. And she is here, in a house full of vampires with an open wound, which can only mean that what I've been dreading is, in fact, a reality.

I want to scream. This can't be happening, I must be overreacting. Surely she won't be transformed, surely there's a way to reverse the process. I try to block out what Carlisle is thinking, but the words ring clearly in his head: Where can I put her for the next three days?

I close my eyes and hear Alice leave, shutting the door behind her. I stay completely still, trying not to hear what's taking place downstairs. My attempts are futile, however, and I can hear them speaking quietly, as though they believe I won't be able to hear.

"Why isn't she screaming? Don't they usually scream when they feel the venom?" Rosalie asks.

"Yes, but she's lost a good deal of blood. She's so out of it right now that she would be unconscious, even without the venom. When her body begins to change, she'll be able to feel everything, but that won't be for a few hours," Carlisle explains. "I cleaned up the wound she got from Edward and bandaged it so that no one here is tempted to finish her off before she wakes up." I flinch as he says my name and am reminded again that this whole situation is my fault.

"Speaking of whom," Esme says, lowering her voice, "how is he?"

"Terrible," Alice answers truthfully.

"Should I--?" Jasper begins to ask.

"No. That'll just make him feel worse later on," she tells him.

I move from the couch and walk at a human pace, opening the door. I try to ignore their thoughts as I arrive in the den. They are gathered around the sofa, where Bella Swan lies; she looks as though she's sleeping and there is a bandage covering the side of her neck where I'd bitten her. I can hear the question on everyone's minds: Where will she stay during her transformation?

"My room," I answer. They all look up at me curiously. "She can stay in my room. I'll return eventually, but she can have my room while I'm gone."

"You're leaving?" Esme asks.

"I have to," I tell her. She nods in understanding.

"Don't stay away for too long," Alice says. "I know you feel bad, but please don't blame yourself for this. Even the best of us slip up sometimes. It's my fault for not realizing something was wrong when you weren't there to pick us up--"

"I'm the only one who's at fault here," I interrupt. With one last look at my family, I run out of the house and don't stop running until I'm out of Forks and out of Washington, wishing for there to be a way to run out of my body and escape to some distant place where I'm still Edward Masen.

Bella Swan

I am surely dead. Death had come quickly; one moment, Edward Cullen was lunging at me, and then there was only blackness and a horrible burning sensation, as though my body was being consumed by flames. It had started in my neck, but it is now spreading to my fingers and toes. There is no relief from the pain, despite my constant screaming. I've concluded that this must be hell and I begin to contemplate what I've done wrong, what sin I have committed that deserves such punishment.

Sometimes I hear voices; the sweet, soothing voices of angels. "You'll be better soon," they whisper in my ear. I wonder what they mean; hell is eternal, isn't it?

Then maybe this isn't hell. Purgatory, perhaps. And I'll be free one day. "Hello, Bella," an angel says calmly. I stop screaming so that I can hear him speak. "My name is Carlisle Cullen." That's funny, I think, the angel has the same name as Edward's father. "I'm going to explain something to you that may seem hard to believe at first, but I promise you that it's the truth." I make an effort to nod my head so that he knows I'm listening, but my neck feels like lead.

"My family and I are vampires," he tells me. "Yesterday, my son Edward attacked you. He did not have any sort malicious intent and I know he regrets his actions. Somehow, your blood appealed to him more than anyone else's. We usually only drink animal blood, you see. I'm very sorry that I did not arrive in time to suck out the venom; there was too much in your system by the time I stopped my son." It occurs to me that this angel is the same Carlisle Cullen whose son had attacked me. And then I realize that he is not an angel, but a vampire. "The pain you feel now--the burning--it's his venom. It will continue to burn you until it stops your heart and the transformation is complete." My head is swimming and I have no idea what he's talking about. He seems to understand this and clarifies by saying, "You're becoming a vampire, Bella."