'I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being. So don't talk of our separation again: it is impracticable.'

-Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)

Throughout time, as long as humans have loved, they have believed in soul mates. One person out there, tied to them, the missing piece of their soul. What else could explain that feeling of incompletion, the need to search, to scour the globe until the puzzle piece is found?

Everyone from royalty to peasants has searched, has looked into the eyes of another, wondering, is it you? Have I found you?

But fate does not intend an easy path for all. Sometimes, death interferes. Sometimes the world conspires to keep soul mates apart.

But sometimes, the bitterest pill to take is the soul mate that has been there all of your life. The soul mate who wants to consume you, to own you, to drink your strength. The soul mate that is tied to you, and you are shackled to them.

Fate dealt a cruel card to Bella Swan. This was one instance where it may have been better if the souls had never found each other, but, as always, they had been dragged together like black magnets.

On one side of the coin, it was a blessing, because Bella had her soul mate by her side since the moment she first opened her eyes on this world.

But on the flipside, the blessing was her curse: her wicked soul mate could hear her thoughts, read her like a book and use what he wished.

It took her most of her life to realize she was being conquered, and years to escape his tyranny.

As Bella drove towards Forks, her eyes trained on the horizon, she forced her mind to stop. Choice, she told herself. The greatest gift in life was choice.

She took some deep breaths, techniques taught to her by her psychologist, and stared at the purple-smudge clouds hovering over Forks like bruises. She deliberately relaxed her grip on the steering wheel, the last shaft of sunlight glinting off her bright engagement ring.

She allowed the pleasure of the lush greenery to soothe her, and wound down her window to breathe the sweet air. She tried to stop feeling like she was driving into battle. Even though she was.