Twilight Fan Fiction / Twilight Fan Fiction ❯ In a World Without You ❯ Part I: Contemplation of Hell ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

In a World Without You
By: Natilie Sawada
 
***Takes place in New Moon after Edward called Bella's house, only to have Jacob tell him (or at least he interprets it that way) that Bella is dead.***
 
Written from Edward's point of view about his feelings on this and the events that follow
 
PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!!!
 
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PART I: Contemplation of Hell
 
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“And I tried to think of how I'd start again
But a world without you is not worth living in”
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-A World Without You
By: The Mitch Hansen Band
 
 
 
It's strange how it takes a lifetime (and even longer in my case) of endless effort, and painful sacrifice to construct even the slightest shred of happiness.
 
Strange how, in a split second, four words can destroy everything you've ever worked towards and held dear in this world.
 
A half a second is all it takes.
 
“He's at the funeral.”
 
In that second…my world collapsed.
 
I snapped the phone shut unconsciously. In that endless second, it seemed as if the world had taken a giant leap and was hanging in midair—frozen before the fall. I was in shock, denial, whatever you wanted to call it. I was suddenly sitting in a world of shadows. All the light—all the color had suddenly vanished. The world was made up of empty shadows—nothing more than darkness—an empty shell of its former glory.
 
And I was a hollow shadow too.
 
No, I wasn't a hollow shadow.
 
I was no shadow.
 
Just hollow.
 
The suspended moment came to an end, and the pain caught me—scorching, searing pain that raked razor edges across the wound in my chest I'd inflicted upon myself by leaving.
 
Such pain! I cried out, screaming, not at all surprised that the screech of agony formed into her name on my lips as it was ripped from my lungs.
 
This was so much worse than being tuned because I knew there was no end—no light at the end of the tunnel—no waking up from this nightmare.
 
So much agony was there, that I could not form a coherent thought.
 
No, no…Bella…sorry…so sorry…no…Bella…
 
I writhed, the empty shell, the soulless creature I was in her absence bursting into flames. But it was entirely the pain of losing her for which I screamed.
 
I screamed for the unfairness—the injustice of it all.
 
It was my fault.
 
All
 
My

Fault
 
If I had been able to resist going back to Forks after I left for Alaska, if I had been able to resist the intoxication of her scent, if I had been able to resist my deathly curiosity about the secrets in her mind, if I had been able to resist falling endlessly, helplessly, insanely, stupidly, recklessly, irresponsibly, irrevocably in love with her…she would still be breathing.
 
If not for me, she would still be alive.
 
I was weak.
 
And now she was paying the price.
 
Her being gone—the thought of losing her alone was enough to make me writhe and scream in pain. But the guilt of knowing it was my fault - my fault that I would never see her smile again.
 
She was dead.
 
Therefore, I was dead. I could not keep living in a world where Bella did not exist.
 
But it seemed too easy—an escape, rather than a punishment for the soulless vampire who had driven an innocent little girl to suicide. If there was no afterlife for my kind, as I suspected, would there be relief in death? Even when I was ash, would I still feel the torture—the agony of losing her? For the sins I had committed, I was the last person who deserved relief from agony such as this.
 
But maybe Carlisle was right. Maybe there was something beyond the existence that was suddenly meaningless. Certainly heaven--paradise—the like…those gates were closed for all eternity to me. Then, if in theory, Carlisle's hopes were fulfilled (that there was indeed something beyond this life) and our kind continued on, I would no doubt be treading the downward trail.
 
I thought suddenly, insanely of Dante's “Inferno”. Certainly I was meant for the innermost circle, the one reserved for the most vile of creatures—the most hideous of sinners. Surely, driving the one think I held dearest in the universe—my precious Bella—to throw herself off a cliff (I shuddered and another wave of agony broke over me) counted as one of the worst crimes one could commit.
 
Killing your own true love.

Through all the scorching, searing pain of her loss, I laughed ruefully.
 
The devil would praise me for this sin—the most vile of deeds. I had most defiantly earned his favor. In some small corner of my mind, I wonder at how I could possible suffer worse than this in Hell. Was there any pain worse that this? Any pain worse than knowing that my fragile little Bella had slipped through my fingers for all eternity?
 
Despite all the guilt, despite the sick masochist I was at heart…
 
I just couldn't stand the pain anymore!!!
 
I felt weak and cowardly, as I started to contemplate plans, but quickly quashed them before Alice could pick them up.
 
I groaned.

Alice.
 
She was going to make this difficult. Not to mention Carlisle…and Esme…
 
I could see her face—so trusting, so loving…
 
Trust I hadn't earned.
 
Love I didn't deserve.
 
This would kill Esme. Not to mention Carlisle, Alice, Jasper, Emmett…well Rosalie might not mind to much, I thought bitterly.
 
But all this time, Bella was occupying my every thought except for the one of my family. With her in my head—the pain of her loss and my guilt ripping through my body as if I were being sliced to ribbons— it was impossible to think of a resounding reason to live.
 
Not even my parents and family, with all their unconditional love. Even with them there, I could not live. This pain would never ease, I realized.
 
The only escape—the only option was death.
 
I remembered the words spoken in a lighter time—my personal golden age, filled with sunlight. She really was my sunshine—I truly sparkled in her presence.
 
“I do admit,” I allowed as we watched Romeo and Juliet on her eighteenth birthday. “I do sort of envy him here.” She cried at the movie, something that was very bittersweet to me. I pressed my lips into her hair.
 
“She's very pretty,” Bella murmured. I almost choked.
 
“I don't envy him the girl—just the ease of the suicide,” I teased. “You humans have it so easy! All you have to do is throw down one vial of plant extracts…”
 
“What?” She gasped. I looked down at her in surprise to find her face horrified. I didn't know she could see the dark thoughts lurking far beneath the surface of my casual exterior.
 
“It's something I had to think about once,” I admitted slowly, “and I knew from Carlisle's experience that it wouldn't be simple. I'm not even sure how many ways Carlisle tried to kill himself in the beginning…after he realized what he'd become…” I snapped back from my thoughts which had been centuries away. “And he's clearly in excellent health.” Bella turned toward me.
 
“What are you talking about?” She demanded. “What do you mean, this was something you had to think about once?” Flashes, images were in my mind instantly and I shoved them away. I squeezed Bella's slight form in my arms—assuring myself she was still there.
 
“Last spring, when you were…nearly killed…” I took a deep breath. For once, I was struggling to find the right words…and the right tone in which to say them. “Of course I was trying to focus on finding you alive, but part of my mind was making contingency plans. Like I said, it's not as easy for me as it is for a human.” It took her a moment to respond.
 
“Contingency plans?” She repeated, uncertainty—anxiety seeping into her voice.
 
“Well I wasn't going to live without you.” I rolled my eyes. Obviously. As if there were any way I could live through losing Bella. “But I wasn't sure how to do it—I knew Emmett and Jasper would never help…so I was thinking maybe I would go to Italy and do something to provoke the Volturi.”
 
“What is a Volturi?” She insisted.
 
“The Volturi are a family,” I explained, my mind still not entirely in my love's living room. “A very old, very powerful family of our kind. They are the closest thing our world has to a royal family, I suppose. Carlisle lived with them briefly in his early years, in Italy, before he settled in America—do you remember the story?”
 
“Of course I remember,” she stated.
 
“Anyways,” I went on, “you don't irritate the Volturi. Not unless you want to die…”
 
“Unless you want to die,” I whispered to myself. Plans, actions, strategies suddenly stretched in front of me. My phone vibrated on the floor where I'd dropped it after my life had ended.
 
Obviously Alice had seen my plans. So what? Wouldn't she have known this was inevitable? She knew how my life was so desperately entwined with Bella's.
 
I picked up the phone, and headed downstairs from the filthy attic of a rickety, run- down hotel. I was in Rio, I remembered. It would take me a while to get to Italy if I didn't go soon. It was just after dark—the time on the opposite side of a sun-set from twilight.
 
The phone vibrated in my hand this time. I sighed, and focused, my mind already calculating, my chest burning, my heart gone.
 
I dropped the silver cell phone into the nearest trash can, ducked into the shadows and ran.
 
 
END OF PART 1
 
I really like the way this turned out PLEASE REVIEW. Edward just won't seem to get out of my head lately. >< Anyway, I think I'll continue it next chapter with Edward asking the Volturi to kill him. Mmm…this should be interesting. Strap yourselves in, kiddies, this isn't gonna be pretty.
 
(But please read it anyway when I get it posted ^_^)