A/N- Alright, I had to take my turn at writing a one-shot:].

I will warn you in advance, I wrote this when I was reading about a million other very depressing one-shots. I havta say, though. Even if it is extremely sad, it's beautiful. In my modest opinion. I had alotta funn writing this. I needed to get it outta my head, though, in order to continue working on Little Black Notebook.

This was inspired by the song, I'm lost without you by Blink-182. I recommend listening to it sometime before or after, I don't care. It doesn't have all that much to do with this story, but it's mood and stuff relates.

I don't own twilight(:[ ) or said song. Life's just not fair, ay?


"My apologies, miss. You're being cut off. If you have even one more drink you won't even look innocent."

Princess Isabella Swan giggled, swinging her head back as she bathed in the moonlight shining through the blossoming trees. She kicked off one high heel and, pushing her tiara further up in her messy brown hair, waggled her empty wine glass in the face of the man who spoke to her.

"I stopped caring about what happens when we part hours ago," she insisted, pressing the glass into his chest. He chuckled and took it away from her with a dismissive shake of his head. Isabella frowned. She brought up her right index finger and rested it on his lipstick stained lips.

"Edward Cullen," she whispered slowly, leaning forward. "Fill the damn glass."

Edward Cullen grinned lopsidedly and ran a hand through his equally messy bronze hair as he tried to find it in him to deny Isabella what she wanted. When you loved someone as much as he, such a feat was next to impossible.

"Half," he finally caved, retrieving her glass and the almost empty bottle of wine. "And then you're done."

Isabella hiccupped. She knew that Edward was right. She needed to stop drinking. Being drunk was not lady like. When a princess was to be married in no less than twenty four hours, lady like behavior should be expected, right? Wrong. As far as she was concerned, that rule was forgotten the moment she'd run off with Edward Cullen to spend her last free moments in his arms.

Edward Cullen was everything Isabella had ever dreamed of. Dreamy emerald eyes she could get forever lost in; thick, silky bronze hair to run her fingers through; full, soft lips for her to kiss whenever she pleased. He was a devoted musician– how they'd met– honest, and heartfelt. He spoke what was on his mind and always said it loud. Tonight was the first exception. Neither were willing to say what was their most prominent thought, though both knew perfectly well.

Isabella's parents– King Charlie and Queen Renee– did not approve of Edward whatsoever. Although his father, Carlisle Cullen, was a respected priest in the kingdom, it didn't earn Edward the proper statues. He wasn't royalty. He wasn't a prince, or a duke, or any of that. He was a done-to-earth musician who happened to meet Isabella while playing piano in the palace. It had been her birthday.

Loud music, crowds of people expecting so much of you, and forced conversations and smiles had never been Isabella's specialty. Just because the occasion was her birthday party didn't make her desire to stick around any stronger. Trying to be discreet, Isabella strayed away from her guests and out to the patio.

She absently shuffled to the stone barrier surrounding the second story porch. With a wistful sigh, she leaned forward and rested her chin between her two palms. Her eyes drifted from the sliver of visible moon to the speckles of light illuminating the oval shaped pond where couples in shimmering dresses and expensive suits wandered hand in hand. The last remaining fireflies of the summer flew past like fairy dust. She allowed her eyelids to droop. It felt magical.

An unexpected sound pierced through the silent night. That was the one reason Isabella shot up, eyes wide with alarm. Otherwise, she could have very well fallen asleep with the new sound in the air.

It was something she hadn't heard for too long– classical. The man on the piano below her moved his fingers over the keys at an unbelievable pace. The resulting sound was the purest, most divine music Isabella had ever heard. Naturally, such a unique piece of art intrigues a person, as it did for her.

Unthinkingly, Isabella gripped the edges of the marble and leaned her torso over the ledge so that she could get a better view of the man guilty of the beautiful music.

A grand piano had been brought outside for the event. It was surrounded by silk cushions and small, round tables with trays of dainty appetizers and champaign glasses. Several people stood and sat amongst the elegant set up, mingling in politely hushed voices as the pianist's fingers danced. Leaning further, Isabella discovered the piano was directly beneath her.


Isabella screeched as she went tumbling over the edge of the patio. She was confused. Weren't you supposed to have your life flash past your eyes when you had met your demise? Wasn't that fair? But when past images refused to breeze by, Isabella could offer one solution– life just wasn't fair.

"Ugh," a low, smooth voice grunted.

The music had stopped. There was a disturbance in the atmosphere around her. People were speaking louder now, some were even screaming and yelling. Feet padded across the marble and carpets, high heels scraping against the expensive woods in their haste. But all these things were insignificant to Isabella. She was dead, for surely heaven was the only explanation.

Pale as a ghost, though glowing all the same, Edward Cullen smile crookedly at the awestruck princess. All Isabella could do was stare and drink in her savior. He was beautiful, flawless, and smiling just for her. He, too, studied Isabella as if she were a prize. Only one word blazed through their minds.


Both of them had heard about, read about, and watched it portrayed on the silver screen, but falling in love was not how they'd imagined it. It seemed to easy, too sudden.

Too right.

After that night, seeing Edward again became Isabella's top priority. Insisting that she'd taken on a new interested in classical music, Isabella requested a piano player for her room in hopes she'd stumble upon that man again. For a month straight, Isabella went through pianists like the two bottles of wine she'd drunken tonight. Still, after the fifteenth was sent home, she'd nearly given up all hope.

Edward had been terrified with himself. Embarrassed beyond all belief after the encounter he'd had with the princess at her birthday party. Yes, he had saved her life, but he had also held her too close, stared directly into her warm, chocolate eyes for the longest time. He felt as if he'd disrespected her, the entire royal family at that. His father insisted repeatedly that the royals only cared that Isabella was okay and would dismiss it as an incident that wouldn't be repeated. All the same, Edward declined the offer to return to the palace.

A month after the original proposal, Edward was told he no longer had an option whether he wanted to play in the palace or not. The princess had deemed some of the best musicians in the land unacceptable. They feared for the worst were they unable to please her. Something inside of him told Edward that princess Isabella would do no such thing, but he reluctantly left the palace regardless.

This was it, the last time that Isabella was going to fabricate some lie on why this pianist was unworthy. If he wasn't who they sent, then it was final. He had just been a figment of her imagination.

The man that walked up the sparkling path in the late evening glow and stated he to be here for the princess startled Isabella. The shock was mutual when Edward was greeted with a smile meant entirely for him. It took a considerably short time in the solace of Isabella's secluded room before they were both confident enough to declare themselves and love each other in all ways imaginable.

And then there came the marriage.

It was abrupt and devastating. The King and Queen believed Isabella to be capable of sealing her heart away to a random stranger she didn't even like. How could anyone be expected to do such a task?

So yes, being drunk most certainly was not something for a lady to do. But if Isabella was to make it through the rest of the night after Edward and her parted ways, she was best to have a way out of thinking about it.

"Why must you be the good guy?"Isabella slurred, clinking her half-full glass against Edward's. She brought the glass to her lips and tilted it so that the liquid bounced off her skin. Edward raised his eyebrows in silent question as to why she didn't simply drink. She lowered her glass with an insanely sexy smirk playing at her lips.

"Wanna be bad?" she whispered, crawling onto his lap. "Real bad?" she slid her arms around his neck and pulled herself level with him, leaving a trail of kisses up her neck as she went.

Edward chuckled as Isabella kissed him with a burning intensity that held a thousand meanings. He dreaded leaving the princess, even more than she leaving him. The King refused to permit Edward to leave the palace after having heard him play the piano himself. He had been reassigned to playing out in the main room, and outside on sunny days. He would have to spend endless hours watching Isabella prance by him in her own little world, draped around her new husband with a smile plastered to her face.

Edward was well aware that this smile would be conveying the furthest thing from true bliss. She would be miserable, like he. But, unlike him, her life would go on. The world would keep spinning and, eventually, she'd learn to love her husband. She had no other choice. Edward was positive he'd never love again.

"I won't do it," Isabella huffed suddenly. Edward knit his eyebrows in confusion. Could she read minds?

"Do what, love?" he asked, pulling her tighter to his chest. She grabbed his shirt and pressed her lips to his again with a different passion.

"Get married, leave you, act like my life's not ending," she clarified, waving one hand above her head as she listed her refusal. Her hand fell back to his chest. Isabella brought her face up so that it was only a mere inch from Edward's. She nuzzled his nose with her own.

"Let's run away," she suggested. "Let's take what we have and go and never look back."

Edward crushed his mouth down upon Isabella's. "Yes," he murmured between the kissed that he trailed down her neck and onto her chest. "Let's do just that."

Isabella giggled and lured Edward's head back up so she could kiss him again. "We leave at the break of dawn," she decided with a devious smile. "Until then, we are granted the leisure of doing whatever our hearts desire most."

Isabella squealed as Edward swooped her up and laid her on the soft grass beneath him. Her silky hair cascaded over her shoulders and spread around her, sparkling from the dewy ground. Edward wove a piece around his finger and twirled it before kissing her again.

"I'm pretty sure I know what my heart desires," he whispered.

Isabella's heart thudded unevenly. "Yet another feeling between us that is mutual," she breathed, pulling him down to her.

"Princess Isabella?"

Edward tumbled off of the princess as she fought for composer. Her cheeks blazed, her hair fell into her face, her dress was wrinkled and crooked. Her barefoot stung as it suddenly registered the coldness of the mid-spring night. She longed to hastily readjust herself, but the recognition of the voice froze her where she was.

"Isabella!" the deep voice that Isabella had previously thought of as friendly and luxury-car-commercial worthy now seemed harsh and unforgiving. James, her fiancé's personal butler that never seemed to leave his side, came sprinting across the meadow with a long, black object in his hand. She figured he'd turned the flashlight off as not to scare them into running.

"Do you know the consequences for kidnaping the princess?" James barked at Edward, who was sprawled across the ground beside Isabella with a look of defeat glued to his face. As James addressed him in such a blunt tone, Edward's face hardened and he glared back in response.

"Are you hurt, princess?" James asked, slowing down a few yards from them. Isabella was confused by the distance he was keeping between them. Edward shifted towards her with an angered grunt at James' accusation. James pointed the object in his hands at Edward.

"Don't you dare move."

Then it clicked. Isabella's eyes widened in dismay. Her gut dropped to her knees as she watched Edward raise his hands above his head as a peace offering. A gun. He'd brought a gun and now he was pointing it at her love. Edward slowly pushed himself off the ground. Isabella screamed.


"I told you, don't move!" James growled. Isabella's flipped onto her knees and launched herself off the ground to leap in front of Edward. It was already too late. She was too late.


Without a seconds though, James pulled the trigger. Edward cried out in surprise as the bullet rocketed at him for no reason at all. This was it, he was sure. His life blurred past his eyes like a family album slide show put on overdrive. It froze on the image of Isabella lying beneath him, hair fanned out over her bare shoulders as she smiled a smile meant for him alone.

"No!" Isabella screeched, throwing herself across Edward's lap as the bullet struck his chest. Blood leaked onto her dress, her arm, her hair, and, for once, she could have cared less. Tears streamed down her face before she was even given the opportunity to register what was happening.

"No, no, no," she sobbed, lifting Edward's limp head. "No, don't leave me yet, Edward. I'm not ready. No, not yet. Please!" She cried harder, the water blurring her vision. "Edward! Speak to me!"

Edward couldn't feel the pain in his lower chest where the bullet was lodged. No, all hecould feel was his heart getting torn into a million pieces as his love cried over him. He was causing Isabella pain. He didn't want her to hurt.

"Edward," Isabella wailed. "Oh, Edward."

Panting, Edward tried his hardest to hold on. His eyes were glazing over, the light gradually fading away. He couldn't leave– not yet. He had to, needed to, do one final thing. He fought for control. Inhaling deeply, Edward managed to locate his voice box through the pain that was dragging him down.

"Love . . . love you," he gasped, reaching blindly for Isabella. She caught his hand and pressed it to her face, drowning it in her tears. "I . . . I do . . . I la-love you, Bella."

Isabella bit her lip and shook her head. No one had ever called her just Bella before. "I love you, too, Edward," she whimpered. "More than you could ever know. Please, please just don't leave me!"

Edward swallowed dryly as he lost all sight in his eyes. "We . . . we'll r-r-run away," he whispered weakly. "Wa-wa-one da-day. I c-c-can wait. I la-love y-y-y-y . . ."

No matter how hard he tried, the word just wouldn't come out. Enjoy you life, he wished to tell her. Live on without me. We'll be together when the time comes. I know you love me. Love him. But he couldn't. He felt his body fall limp as his organs and muscles shut down. A brilliant light flashed across his dead eyes and he no longer felt any pain.


James didn't utter a single word as Isabella clung to her dead love. She wouldn't believe it. She couldn't! She kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his lips and, in the process, smeared his blood all over her dress. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. Not now, not here, not him.

"You," Isabella finished desperately for Edward. "It's you. Edward, say you." Edward's face fell, lips unmoving. He looked at peace, the pain gone. She refused to think that to be true. For that to happen, he'd have to be de– she couldn't bring herself to think the word.

"Edward, please," she cried, wrapping her arms around his broken torso. "Just say you. Say anything! I need to hear your voice just one more time. I love you, Edward." She broke off into a fit of hysterical crying as bitter realization hit her. HE wasn't going to response. She wouldn't ever hear his voice again. She'd never be held by him, kiss his lips, or feel his fingers run through her hair. She had no idea what to do now. She was lost without him.

"Isabella," James spoke at last. His voice was cool and hollow, offering her no empathy. "He's gone. We have to get you home before your parents worry too much."

Isabella shook her head in denial and buried Edward's head in her neck. "You bastard," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear. She swiped at the tears falling down her cheeks with her clean hand. "What was the point of shooting him?" she couldn't bring herself to say kill. "Now my parents only have me to blame! You saw exactly what was happening. The wedding's off!" She pressed her lips to Edward's hair and trembled with her sobs.

"What I saw was him assaulting you," James replied evenly. Isabella shook her head again. "What I saw was him being violent. I saw him try to kill you. And I saved you."

"What are you talking about?!" Isabella shrieked, pulling back from Edward for a moment to look James full in the eye. "He did nothing to hurt me! Ever!"

James clenched his jaw. All he wanted was for the wedding to pull through. He would get higher pay as the assistant of the King. He would get more respect. This immature girl wasn't going to ruin that for her. Eyes narrowed in disgust, James paced forward and grabbed Isabella's arm roughly.

"We leave, now," he hissed, yanking her away from Edward.

"No!" she wailed, clinging to Edward. "No, don't make me leave him!" James ignored her pleads and pulled the two apart. Edward didn't put up nearly as much as a struggle as Isabella. He laughed bitterly to himself.

"No! Let me go back you ass! Leave me be! Let me die with him!" Isabella flailed her arms as she battled against James' hold. She wouldn't leave him, she couldn't! She heard James mutter something unintelligible before something hard collided with the back of her head. She felt her consciousness fade away.


"He was always spending so much time around her. It's a wonder he didn't do it sooner!"

A broken sob. "That's just awful. I thought we could put our trust in the Priest's son."

A quick gasp. "You don't think the rest of his family is like that . . . do you?"

Isabella blinked her eyes twice to ward off the last of the darkness. Her head swirled as she tried to remember what the current situation was. She had the worst headache.

The Queen was pacing back and forth on the carpet in front of her. Renee never had been much for sitting. King Charlie sat in a large, stiff back chair, hands folded in his lap as he watched his wife walk. A maid was scurrying around the room, cleaning the rug, fetching blankets, ordering others around. Isabella's fiancé peeked his head through the door and, seeing that she was awake, put a hand on Renee's shoulder and pointed to her. He left James in his place and rushed off to whatever he'd been doing before.

"Oh Isabella!" Renee crooned, almost running over to the couch were Isabella lay. "I'm so glad you're okay. How do you feel? Isabella?" Renee waved a hand in front of Isabella's face as she failed to respond.

Inhaling deeply, Isabella narrowed her eyes. "Don't call me Isabella," she growled, glaring past her mother to James. James smiled angelically.

Renee blinked several times, wondering what was causing her daughter's sour attitude. This was a side she rarely saw. "Well what else would I call you, darling?"

Isabella raised an eyebrow, still looking intently at James. "Bella," she choked back another sob as she recalled the last time she'd been called this name. If he had liked it, she'd use it.

Renee exchanged a worried glanced with Charlie. "Um, honey, do you feel okay?" she questioned softly, resting a hand on her forehead. "Did he hurt you?"

Isabella shook her head vigorously. "He would never hurt me," she pushed her mother away from her so that she could sit up. "Never!"

"She's traumatized, your Majesty," James interceded, stepping onto the rug. Charlie's eyes fell upon him with distaste. "He had her unconscious when I found her."

Isabella shook her head again and sat up fully. "Liar!" she pointed an accusing finger at James' chest. "He's a liar!"

"Isabella . . ." Renee said nervously, resting a restraining hand on her should. Isabella shook it off.

"It's Bella," she spat, tears budding in her eyes again. "He killed him, mother. He's dead because of him!"

Renee put both hands on her daughter's shoulders now and smiled apologetically at James. "You're tired, Bella," she told Isabella. "You should get out of those clothes and get to bed. We can answer questions tomorrow, right?"

Both James and Isabella turned to look at her at the same time. "Does this mean the wedding's canceled?" the two asked in unison. Isabella glared at James.

Renee's eyes widened at the thought. "Oh, heavens, no," she assured them both.

"What?!" Isabella huffed, looking incredulously at her mother. How could she possibly be expected to get married tomorrow after this? Even with the ridiculous story that James had fed them, they should be sympathetic.

"A distraction, honey," Renee murmured, running a hand through Isabella's matted hair. "You need one." She addressed everyone in the room again. "Good night everyone."

Before Isabella could form another full sentence, Renee whisked her from the room. Angered beyond belief, Isabella began stuttering, trying her hardest to form words and sentences that could express her aggravation. Nothing.

"Shush," Renee demanded sourly. "You can sleep it off."

Isabella looked at her mother in awe. Did she even know this woman? She remained silent the rest of the journey up the stairs and into Isabella's large room. It seemed so vacant and forlorn without it's regular pianist. Isabella broke down in tears again, collapsing into her mother.

"Get a hold on yourself," Renee sniffed, lowering Isabella onto a couch beside the door. She retrieved a night gown for her and tossed it on top of her shaking form. "Change out of that before the blood stains your skin or something awful like that."

Isabella just stared at the fabric that landed on her and continued to cry. What was the point of even trying anymore? What good would it do her when there was nothing to live for? Renee, sensing that Isabella wasn't going to let this go, sat down by Isabella's head and lifted it onto her lap.

"There are people who can help you, Isabella," Renee informed her softly, stroking her hair. Isabella frowned.

"Bella," she insisted. "It's Bella. Not Isabella."

Renee shrugged, trying to seem indifferent about the sudden name change. In reality, she was trembling. Where was her daughter? "Isabella or just plain Bella. Either way, you're going to get past this," she smiled halfheartedly. "There are people trained to help you move past this. As soon as you return from your honeymoon, if you still need them, they'll be here waiting for you. How's that sound? If the distraction doesn't work?"

Isabella gulped in air and tried to repress her tears. "He didn't try to kill me," she stated flatly.

Renee pursed her lips and stood up. "Time to sleep."

The night was long and restless. By the time dawn came, Bella hadn't slept whatsoever. Her tears had dried out not too long after Renee had gotten her into bed, but at the sight of the rising sun, her water ducts started working once again. She cried so hard that she managed to slip away. Sleep wasn't so bad. She could dream freely of Edward, do with him as she pleased. But the pain was only numbed. It was still there, though. Waiting for her the moment she woke up.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty!" Renee chirped, shuffling into Bella's room around eleven am. "I let you sleep in, now we must prepare you for the big day!"

Bella squinted her eyes as Renee turned on every light in the room and pulled back the shades. It was hard to even believe that the sun had managed to rise without Edward existing. The world seemed to have stopped for her.

The next two hours were impossible to escape. Bella endured Renee and the maids all fussing over her hair, her shoes, her dress. Their enthusiasm nearly suffocated her. She just couldn't find it in her to even attempt to act excited or nervous, or like she even cared at all. She didn't. And she'd never been any good at lying.

"Tisk, tisk, tisk," Renee scolded as she looked Bella in the eye. "Didn't you get any sleep last night?" She looked from the makeup table to the maids. "Where on earth is the skin cream?" The three helpless maids looked from one another and nervously shrugged. Renee narrowed her eyes.

"Well what good is that going to do us?!" she yelled, throwing her hands in the air. Bella tried to tell herself that her mother was just stressed out. That it was just the pre-wedding jitters that had her all bunched up. But that didn't seem to fit. Home just wasn't home anymore.

Cursing the maids as she went, Renee pushed past everyone and stomped into the hallway. Exchanging terrified glances, the maids rushed after her, claiming they could do it themselves if she wanted. On a whim, Bella pushed her chair away from the table and gathered her dress in her hands. Kicking off her high heels, she slipped her feet into her silk slippers and fled.

Bella hadn't a clue as to what she was doing, all she knew was that she had to get out of here. This place was a bitter reminder at what used to be, what could have been, and what will never be. She fought back her tears. She couldn't afford to break down now. Wrapped up in her thoughts, Bella didn't hear the person approaching her from around the bend until it was too late. The two collided with a rough "oof," and she stumbled backwards.

"Oh, princess, my apologies," the ever chipper voice of Bella's favorite servant boy exclaimed as he rushed forward to steady her.

"It's fine, Seth," Bella brushed him off absently, offering him a weak smile. "I'm in a hurry, if you don't mind."

"Is it something to do with the wedding?" Seth asked, stepping back but not taking his eyes off her face. "Can I help?"

Bella shook her head fervently. "No," she sighed, dropping her gaze to her hands. "You really can't. Now, like I said, I'm in a hurry . . ."

"Isabella, is there something wrong?"

Bella stuttered, unsure of how to answer that without giving away too much. She stared back up at him and offered him the only response she could. "I prefer Bella."

Seth narrowed his eyes. "Alright, Bella then," he allowed. "Where's Edward?"

Bella's heart crumpled along with her facial expression. Her pain sent daggers into Seth's heart and he immediately understood before she said a word. He hastily wrapped his arms around the princess and held her tight.

"Was that what the commotion was about last night?" he questioned.

Bella sniffled, her dried out sobs racking through her body. "They're telling lies, Seth," she whispered, clinging tightly to the only person who would believe her. "James shot him. He claims Edward was trying to kill me, to assault me. We were spending the last night I had left when no one would notice if I snuck out at night together, Seth. We were going to run away . . ." Tears overcame her and the rest of her words were choked off.

"Oh my . . . that's terrible!" Seth claimed, his warm tears falling onto my shoulder. "I . . . you can't be serious!"

Bella just wept harder. Seth had been one of Edward's best friends in the palace. It was going to be difficult for him also to accept the fact that Edward was gone. Bella swiped at her tears and pulled back.

"I wish I wasn't," she muttered harshly, her voice cracking. "But I am. And I have to go, now." She glanced urgently down the hall, wondering how long it would take for Renee to have someone hot on her tail. She gave Seth one last parting grimace and took off.

"You're running away?" Seth asked softly. She froze and turned back to look at him. He was staring at the opposite wall, body turned sideways to her. Bella took a deep breath.


Seth nodded slowly and gripped his hands. "It's because you can't go through with the wedding, huh?" he continued, his voice emotionless. He grimaced. "Well, partly."


He inhaled raggedly and leaned against the wall. "Do you consider me a friend?"


"Are you going to come back?"

Bella hesitated. She hadn't thought about this. In fact, she hadn't thought much about what she was going to do once she was out of the confines of the palace. She examined her hands as she contemplated.


Seth pursed his lips and tried his hardest to keep back tears. Bella slowly began backing her way down the hallway. He had to add one final thing before she left.

"One more thing, Bella?" Seth called after her, turning to look at her with glistening eyes. She nodded him on. Seth drew another ragged breath.

"When you see Edward, will you be sure to tell him I said goodbye? Let him know that I'll tell his folks he loves them. Tell him I won't believe a word they say. And that I miss him."

Bella coughed back a sob and rushed forward again, gathering the teenaged boy in her arms. She squeezed him tightly, allowing her tears to flow down her cheeks and onto his shoulder. "I'm sure he misses you, too," she whimpered. "I miss him, too."

"I'll miss you," Seth whispered, embracing the princess. She sniffled and pulled back again, ruffling Seth's hair.

"I'll miss you, too, kid," she told him. "But there isn't enough to hold me here anymore. I . . . I can't handle the memories. What could have been. What should have been. And I've got to go, before I'm caught or have enough time to think coherently."

Seth nodded and watched silently as the princess waved halfheartedly and broke into an unsteady sprint down the corridor. Right before she pushed open the door, Bella tilted her head back to look at Seth. She took off her tiara and slid it down the hallway.

"If it's worth anything, you'd be my first option for king," she whispered, and was gone.

Bella ran across the back lawn, hiding in the bushes and multiple decorations set out for the occasion. The woods beyond the whole setup was her target. Once she was hidden, she could run and run until her feet couldn't carry her any further. And when that happened, she could collapse without a moments fear.

She made it to the trees cover without a single eye spotting her. She thanked her rarely lucky stars and tore through the brush. She couldn't have cared less about what the rough terrain was doing to her beautiful wedding dress that her mother and her mother's mother and her mother's mother's mother and so on had all worn. She was just breaking yet another tradition. It seemed to be her thing. Breaking traditions.

Her heavy breathing, breaking twigs and crunching leaves were the only sound that followed Bella as she continued to venture into the unknown. Her lungs screamed for air and her muscles protested with intense fatigue, but she kept on running, jogging and, eventually, just walking. By the time she'd given in to walking again the last of the evening's light was beginning to fade. The night creatures noises began to vibrate off the trees, chilling her to the bone. Bella froze and looked around, not recognizing a bit of the forest surrounding her. Where now? Bella hugged herself and began to cry again.

"I'm lost, Edward," she called up to the sky. "I'm lost without you."


The missing princess and bride caused an instant catastrophe in the kingdom. Search squads were sent out, citizens were alerted, and staff was interrogated. Seth slipped the golden tiara under his mattress. No one had the slightest idea as to where the princess had ran off to. Seth couldn't have even claimed that much. After an entire week, no such progress had been made.

Eventually, Renee and Charlie had no choice but to return to official business. Princess Bella was still kept on top priority. As the efforts continued to turn up futile, they decreased. Finally, it was decided that she had not been kidnaped and would simply return when she was ready. Or, that was the excuse the King and Queen used so that they could look careless without being called out on it.

Two and a half weeks after the initial disaster, Alice Brandon was flitting across her best friend, Rosalie Hale's, barnyard. The sun was yet to rise, along with Rosalie, so Alice was using her extra morning energy to go visit the horses.

Jasper Hale, Rosalie's older brother, watched her from his window. He had heard her wake and make her way downstairs shortly after, but this had just made him curious. Earlier in the morning, he had heard another disturbance. The cows shuffling around, a horse or two whinnying– like a stranger had intruded on them. If it hadn't been Alice– and it certainly had not been his sister– then who could it have been?

A scream pierced through the air, waking Jasper from his daydream. His eyes dropped back to where Alice had been previously. The barn door was wide open, though Alice was nowhere in sight. He threw himself off his bed and sprinted out of his room.

"Jasper?" Rosalie's voice made him jump. He turned to glare at her. She raised her hands defensively and yawned. "Where's the fire?"

"Barn. Alice," he muttered before taking off again. He didn't have to look back to know for sure that his sister was following him.

"Alice!" Jasper yelled once they were outside. "Alice, what's wrong!"

"Nothing, Jasper," she hissed from behind the door. "Quiet now, before you wake her!"

Jasper jolted to a stop so suddenly that Rosalie rammed into him. Before Rosalie could scold him, Jasper stuck his head around the door to see what Alice was referring to. His breath caught in his throat.

"Is that the princess?!" Rosalie gasped, rushing to Alice's side. The girl was sprawled across a pile of hay, eyes shut. Her dress was tinted brown and torn to ragged shreds. Her hair was sticking up in random places and had twigs and leaves protruding from it. The only way that any of them could possibly define her as the princess was the royal family crest dangling from the chain around her neck.

"Good God, I'll go get help," Jasper murmured, stepping back. Alice gripped his hand and yanked him towards her.

"Wait one second," she breathed, squatting down beside the girl. Alice reached forward to brush the hair out of the princess's face when her hand shot up and gripped Alice's wrist. Alice squeaked, but didn't recoil from the contact.

"Edward?" the girl rasped, squinting unseeingly at Alice.

Alice looked at the other two desperately. Rosalie nodded her on encouragingly. Jasper hovered over her protectively.

"Um, yes?" Alice said tentatively.

"It's me, Bella," the princess sighed, her hand slipping into Alice's. "I missed you."

Alice's face softened and she leaned forward, dirtying her knees for perhaps the first time. Bella smiled.

In her eyes, Bella was looking directly into the brilliant green orbs of Edward Cullen. He was smiling back at her, hand outstretched. She slid her hand into his powerful grasp and twirled herself into his chest. He placed a light kiss on the top of her head and held her to his chest.

"Why'd you leave me?" she asked quietly. "You left me lost. I was so lost."

"Who does she think she's talking to?" Jasper wondered, his voice a little sharp. He didn't want Alice too close to someone who was about to spontaneously combust.

Alice turned to glare at him. She looked back at Bella and her face fell. "I think she's talking to an angel," she answered softly as she felt Bella's hand go limp in her's. Bella's breathing slowly declined, her chest barely moving to show signs of her breathing. "I think she's beyond us."

Rosalie's eyes glistened. "You mean, like she's getting picked up to go to heaven?"

Alice smiled sadly and took Bella's pulse rate. Her heart stuttered twice before stopping completely.

"That's exactly what I mean."


"I never left you," Edward disagreed, tilting Bella's head back so that he could look her in the eye. "I only had to let go for a little while."

Bella's eyes sparkled in unshed tears. "Please," she begged. "Please, never do that to me again."

Edward grinned and kissed her sweetly. "Why would I ever do something like that?" he wondered, resting his forehead against her's. He glanced to his left. The sun was peeking up above the mountains that were clearly visible as all other surroundings faded away.

"Let's run away," Edward suggested, nodding towards the sunrise. "It's the break of dawn and we haven't any time left to spare."

Bella laughed freely and released all of him but his hand. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words again." She giggled again as he swooped her up in his arms and began running towards the sun.

There was one last brilliant flash of light, and Bella could feel no more pain.

A/N- Awhhhhhhhh. You made me cry :*[.

actually, I did cry while reading over the part when Edward died. I hope it didn't make any of you guys cry too much . . .

thanks for reading. Reviews are ahmazing. check out my other story, Little Black Notebook.