Before The Dawn
And maybe tonight, We'll fly so far away,We'll be lost before the dawn...--'“I’m…sorry,” I whisper. My voice breaks. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. I spread my arms out like an eagle, letting another tear trickle out. There is pain—lots of pain. And regrets—too many regrets. I drag in another gasp of breath and let my foot take the last step back. My body tips over, and I let go.' ----- It's another new year, and Carlisle is hunting in a secluded forest spot when he comes across the scent of a human. He finds a beautiful girl, lying mangled on the ground in a pool of her own blood, coming closer and closer to being pulled into the ocean by the growing tide. Her heart beats are slowing, and she is muttering just one word. "Sorry." He is reminded of Esme, his true love, when he had rescued her directly from the jaws of death. Acting on instinct, he picks up the dying girl and bites her. Basically, what if Bella had joined Carlisle's coven earlier? Before she ever met Edward? And once they do meet, what the hell happens?
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I can't imagine what it was like for her
To have died swallowing the sea
I want to pause and offer
Your lonely grave farewell but it is covered in mud
It is nowhere there is no way
To light an altar for you
Everything is too wet
Tight around my neck
Tie me with this rotten wire
That snaps its quiet snap
I've poured my life into this world and here I am
I sat up, just as the door creaked open and two figures walked in. Good. I needed answers.
They walked up to the bed slowly, and from their shadows, they looked so graceful that it left me breathless. One of them – I think he was a male, from the shape of his dark silhouette – walked up to the bed. I gasped as the dim light hit his features.
He was, simply, beautiful. He had to be the most handsome man I had ever seen in my entire existence. I could see that his gentle blond hair shone, falling into his forehead; his straight jaw and curved cheekbones; his figure lean and strong. His dark trousers accentuated his golden eyes. They shone in the faint glow from the lamp. He looked like a movie star.
No, he looked better than a movie star.
He opened his mouth, and the most musical voice I had ever heard came out of it. “Hello,” he said quietly. I stared at him speechlessly, not sure if my voice would work.
The figure that had been standing in the shadows behind the perfect man came forward, and I could see it was a woman. Again, I gasped. She was also beautiful, in the same manner as the man. Her soft features looked flawless, and her full lips were curved into a smile. Her gentle brown hair fell in buoyant waves, cascading gently down her back. Her eyes were also butterscotch – although shade darker than the man’s, it had the same golden tone. I noticed she slipped her hand into the perfect man’s. The couple couldn’t have been older than their late twenties.
The woman smiled in a… motherly way, as one would to their child. Her face lit up, and she looked so serene that I felt myself grow calm. She opened her mouth as well, and again, her voice was like bells, soft and musical. “Hello,” she said. I turned to the man from my propped up position on the bed.
“Are… are you God?” I rasped out. Though my voice didn’t rasp as I thought it would – it actually sounded like a light chime. I never remembered my voice like this. And I couldn’t think of anything else to say – obviously these two perfect people were gods. My tone was almost belligerent as I let my curiosity take over.
The two people laughed lightly, and again I grew breathless by the sounds of their voices. It was perfect in harmony – a tenor and a soprano. “No,” said the man, smiling lightly.
“Where am I?” I asked. “Surely this isn’t hell.”
I saw the man’s face grow grave, and the smile left the woman’s face. “Do you remember everything?” asked the woman.
I winced as the memory of the fire came into my head. “Yes,” I responded quietly. “I remember the fire. It was hell, wasn’t it? I’m Isabella—Bella Swan,” I looked up to them as I said my name. “And I’m dead.”
The man’s face changed again, becoming more grave, yet cautious. “Isabella—“
“Bella,” I interrupted. I hated the use of my full name.
“Bella,” said the man. “You’re not dead.”
“I’m not?” I asked. I was confused. I looked down at myself. Surely a jump from a building-high cliff should have caused some more damage – and I could remember the fire too, the hellish place – but I couldn’t even see a scratch. I looked up to the woman. “Then what am I?”
It was the man who answered, his voice as hesitant as his posture. “Bella, I know this may be hard to believe…” His voice became nervous, and the woman put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He took a light breath. “But… you’re a vampire.”