Hey, ya'll! For those of you who care or know what I'm talking about, just know that I'm still going to finish Emeralds, but I'm wrestling with some writer's block. Cliche, I'm thinking may not make it... but this story is something I'm definentely going to keep at. I'm excited!!

Happy Summer, btw!

Disclaimer: Am I Stephanie Meyer? Two words: I wish.



How did it come to this?

My face is wet (Always raining, it's too wet, it's too green. I hate Forks.). Absurdly, I'm embarrassed. It's not just tears that stain me (stained, ripped, tarnished, defiled, DIRTY) there's snot from my nose and blood from my wounds and rain from the sky (Still raining? Always raining­­).

It was raining when he left.

There was pride when he left. There was dignity (at least, for him to see) when he left. Silent tears. Mourning in stillness. Alone in the wilderness. My soul (died) quietly. I was… unworthy of him. I. Made. Him. Dirty.

It was raining when heleft.

He was different. My last hope (Anchored to h u m a n i t y). I wept for him. I begged for him. No dignity… I gave him e-vry-thing I had. I begged for him… tears and rain and snot and cries and tears and ("Don't give up on me!").

I hate Forks.

It's raining now, and all I can do is pray he's left me. I hope he dies. I wish I had killed him. I wish hehad kept me. I wish I had jumped. It was raining when I tried, raining when he stopped me. Raining the first time I let him kiss me (RENEWAL/SURVIVAL/BETRAYAL), raining when I gave him the first remaining piece of my shattered heart.

It's always fucking raining.

And now, he'll go back to her. He will bow and snivel and I know what he will say. "I did it, my Angel. The girl is dead. I fucked her up good, just for you." She'll want my blood. He'll just smirk. He stuck a handkerchief in the wound before he left. "Would I forget, Victoria?" She'll kill him (I hope it's slow). She'll send him the blood. She'll think she sent him pain. She'll just make him dir-ti-er.

So dark so dark. So wet wet wet. I don't want to die. I didn't want to die. There is nothing left for me. I can't anymore. I don't want to cry anymore. If I die, will I leave part of myself here? Some with him, some with him? More tears, more rain. Because I made a promise. Because the rest of them need me. I can't leave them like this. Too much. I will never break them the way he broke me.

My arm is screaming. He broke my wrist. I broke my wrist, fighting back. There is safety in my grasp, I stole it from him (May he rot in hell.). I bite my lips (more blood, so wet). I don't want to live. I don't want to go on. I don't want to die. I can't die. It keeps raining.


("Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?")

("My name is… Isabella Swan… please help me…") I breathe.

How did it come to this?

Continue if you dare!!

But seriously, keep reading...

And review too, if you please!