Do Not Read.

A/N: Hi, my name is Tellytubby101, and I am highly eccentric. O.o Haha, really, I am. No joke. :-P

There are only so many bad things you can suppress. In a subconscious gesture, Bella rewrote her time with Edward and viewed it through the eyes of another. There will be vampires and more. AU.

So here's the deal: Edward dumped Bella, he never came back, and now Bella's an author. But it isn't like those other clichéd stories (hopefully). Read and watch Bella see everything in a new light that sheds some perspective on her life.

Umm, yeah, in advance, you should know: it's a little warped - that's because I'm a little warped. *Shrugs*.

Italics are the excerpts from Bella's books, not thoughts.

Disclaimer: Eh. Not mine. I'll deal.


Do Not Read.

Three little words that nobody ever listens to.

When I wrote, "Do Not Read" what did you think I meant? And yet here you are, reading my diary.

It's a little like those signs, "Do Not Touch". You know you're not meant to do it, but there's a part of you that just can't help but want to. Sometimes, we fall for the trap of intrigue and mystery, with the occasional hint of danger. Though we know better, we go for what we shouldn't have. We long for what we can't have.

Like with Pandora and the box, she was warned not to open the box, but she didn't listen and she destroyed the world, as she knew it. Pandora disregarded the warnings and because of that, she unleashed an immeasurable amount of pain.

With Eve and the apple, she was told never to eat the forbidden fruit, but she did anyway. Her punishment was to be taken away from the Garden of Eden. Because she didn't listen, she was forced to pay the price.

But I guess that it's always the forbidden fruit that is lusted over most. When you can't have something, on that knowledge alone it always makes you want it more. When it's out of your grasp, you try harder to reach it. What is forbidden is in turn, coveted. I know all this from experience.

I want what I can't have more than you'll ever know. More than life itself.

However, what I do not want is your pity. I don't want your sad faces. I don't want you to act like you can understand me. Nobody can understand me. Nobody ever will.

The pain, the ache the hurt, is nothing like you can imagine. Words are great and all for describing things, but it would never take the place of real life experience. But I wished that I never ever experienced pain like this.

All of it was my fault. It was my fault for being too weak, for being too much of a problem. But it doesn't mean I have to take the punishment with all due grace. I will bitch, I will whine and I will complain about it.

Doesn't make anything any better though. Nothing will.

He left me and I don't know what I was going to do. Death seemed like a welcome reprieve that just wouldn't come. Crying helped with nothing, yet I did it anyway.

In my case, the signpost was more along the lines of, "Do Not Feed The Animals". Well, I fed them and then they turned around and bit me. And the stinging bite hurts me more than I could ever say.

One of the worst things about it all was the fact that I was to blame; I hurt myself through reckless ignorance. After all, I was warned to stay away, but I just kept moving closer, which made it hurt so much more when we parted.

Staring at the pages, I realized with startling clarity that the introduction to my new book was hitting way too close to home. This was no longer my story on Marie and Anthony, but it was becoming the tale of Bella and Edward. My teenage years. There was no way that I went down that path again. I thought I had successfully blocked all that out. But what I held in my hands proved me wrong.

Deleting that chapter ("Do Not Read") from my newest novel, "Northern Lights" was not something I could do. It was too late for that. My best seller had already hit the shelves and topped the New York Times Best Seller list.

Moments before, I had been celebrating my accomplishment on making it onto the list, opening my first edition copy of the book with a cheesy grin. But as I read the introduction without worrying about deadlines and other problems, I saw what I had really written. Somehow, I pasted down the story of Edward and me in the places of the characters.

The entire thing was written in either diary format (like the introduction) or from a traditional main character point of view. When I wrote it, I thought I was creating an entirely new story, when in reality I was rewriting my own.

Then again, I was in a trance for a lot of the writing period. There was nothing like a good bout of drunken writing to get hidden feelings off your chest. But I never thought that they would bring forth such hidden thoughts.

When Edward left me, I had buried everything deep within myself, only allowing them to arise to the surface when with anger. It hurt less when I hated him, so I pretended that I did. It hurt less when I was angry with them, so I faked the emotion. It hurt less when I blamed him for everything, so I did. But this book of mine showed what I had really been thinking all this time, and the truth hurt.

I still loved Edward after all this time. So many years since we've last met, but his name still sent a longing ache down my spine.

There wasn't anyone I could really talk to about him; I had no plans on seeing a psychiatrist, 'cause I was lonely, not crazy, and talking to friends and family were not an option. Charlie thought that Edward was a jerk and he was too emotionally stilted for us to talk comfortably. Renee wasn't one I could talk too either – it was like there was a barrier between us lately, and I had no real desire to move it.

Jacob knew about vampires, being a werewolf and all, but he hated hearing about my ex because I was hurt by the "leech", and I think partially because he was jealous my heart still longed for someone else. Other than that, Jacob was the best friend a girl could ask for. All of my other friends didn't understand anywhere as much as Jacob did, and there wasn't any other family I could confide in. So I guess, my subconscious had had enough, and had spilled my guts without me ever knowing.

Flipping forward a few pages, I read with dismay my subconscious – drunk – work. It wasn't saying that I wrote all this in a drunken stupor, 'cause I did put a lot of hard effort in, but I had never read the book with a clear mind. I was always was worrying about book signings, editing, cover designs, paying bills and so much more. In the rare event I got free time, I occupied my mind so I never thought back to my past. However, it seemed that I could only suppress things for so long.

He was more handsome than any words and sometimes I felt that he belonged in another time. His odd mannerisms, polite but out of societal norms, alerted me to his differences. It was a secret he always told me not to delve into, but I couldn't help myself. I just needed to know. Again, it was like with the signs. He was clearly saying – no, actually – yelling, "Do Not Read". But I dove into the story without caring for the plot. And what a twisted plot it was.

Later I learned he was as infatuated with me as I was with him, but for different reasons. Anthony was certainly an odd case, and I never left a mystery unsolved. Once he did threaten that unearthing this could cause me to be scarred, but I paid his warnings no mind. I may have been the new girl at the time, shy as anything, but I was stubborn as a mule and as curious as a cat.

But as they say, "Curiosity killed the cat."

Without knowing it, a tear dripped down my cheek as memories of my high school years flooded my mind. In a brief moment of weakness, I let myself dwell on them, letting the joy from those times wash over me. But when I resurfaced to reality, it made the cold bite of life hurt oh so much more.

As I read, I realized that I was incredibly in line with my past and it ached. A jolt of panic fluttered down my spine as I realized that I put fantasy creatures in this particular novel. I didn't give vampires away, did I? They may have betrayed me and hurt me, but I would never ever do so to them. However, I never thought I would subconsciously write an autobiography on my high school years, but I did.

Flipping forward through the book, I sighed in a mixture of relief and pain when I hit the confrontation scene where secrets between Marie and Anthony were spilled. All of it was too familiar.

Leaning over the table, staring deep into his silvery grey eyes, I whispered, "I know what you are. There's no need to pretend around me anymore."

As Anthony opened his mouth to snap another scathing comment at me, the waitress made an appearance with my spaghetti bolognaise. She placed it on the table and flashed a blinding smile to Anthony. He didn't even spare her a glance – his eyes trained intently on mine – so she quickly got the hint and left.

When the girl was out of hearing range, Anthony snapped sarcastically, "What do you know, Marie?"

"You're a soul catcher," I announced quietly, but triumphantly.

His eyes widened with my proclamation, but then they narrowed just as fast. Anthony's mouth thinned as he mused over a response.

"You're crazy," he decided. "There's nothing different about me. I'm human." When he told me this, his voice was just right: casual with an underlying hint of worry directed towards my sanity. But I could see I hit home when his silver eyes flashed bright in what seemed like anger ... or was it fear?

Blurting out what I knew, I whispered quickly, "I know you take lives to prolong your own, but I don't care. You drink up the souls of others, so what?"

"What?" yelled Anthony in utter disbelief. When heads whipped around looking for the source of the noise, he realised what attention he brought himself, so he reverted back to an angry whisper. "You don't care that I drain out the life essences of others? It doesn't bother you that I end the lives of hundreds to keep my own existence afloat? You really must be crazy." He trailed off, mumbling incoherent nonsense under his breath.

"Call me crazy, but I know I'm not stupid. You pretty much confessed that my theories were right. D'you notice that?" I pointed out quietly.

Anthony cursed as his expression turned into one of shock, when he realized his slip up.

I said, "I may be mortal, and I probably don't know all there is to know about soul catchers, but I do know this; I feel something for you, something otherworldly, and I would brave a hell of a lot of things to be with you. If you don't feel the same, say so and I will walk away."

He paused and shook his head slowly. In a low voice he asked, "Do you feel the spark when we touch?"

Nodding, I hesitantly covered his right hand with my own. A current began to shoot from his arm into mine and the feeling warmed my chest.

"Is this part of your anatomy? Sparking humans?" I enquired, interest colouring my tone.

"No," he answered, pausing with confusion. "I only feel this way with you." Anthony paused again, and sadness filled his features. "And I'm too selfish for your own good to ask you to leave, because I never want to lose this feeling, the spark of life I feel around you."

My heart warmed at his comments and I felt a certain kinship with him. I was not alone in travelling in the sea of the unknown. And I think he was going to be by my side the whole way. Questions could wait – I just wanted to revel in the feeling of being wanted.

At least I didn't give vampires away. The Cullen's were good people and didn't deserve any trouble from me. I wrote another mythical being in their place. But with my new outlook on my writing, I could see that I might as well have said vampire for some scenes. Hell, even the creature's names held significance – Edward and I were always arguing whether he possessed a soul or not. And the character's names, I belatedly realized, were our middle names. Flipping further into the book, just a few chapters forward, I read another interrogation scene.

"So is it hard being around me?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah, it was at first," he admitted reluctantly, his silver eyes flashing when he answered.

"Why?" I wasn't looking at him anymore, content with closing my eyes and leaning into his hard body. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either. His body made me sometimes feel like I had an extreme fever in comparison to him.

"Your curiosity is never sated, isn't it?" pointed out Anthony with an amused grin.

"Nope, it won't ever," I agreed. "But stop changing the subject. Why was it hard?"

His face turned sombre and he explained, "Soul catchers can ... see other people's souls; they are like lights that shine from people. The brighter the soul, the more appealing they are. However, the brighter the soul, the better the person. And your soul was as bright as they come. I nearly lunged at you in Chemistry class. But I had years of training and restraint to sticking to my other diet. So I was able to control myself. Just."

"I guess that explains why there aren't many good people in the world; catchers would be aiming for them, I guess," I thought aloud to him. "What was your other diet?" When he started playing with the ends of my curly blonde hair, I lost a fraction of my concentration, but I refused to let him distract me into getting out of this.

"Souls of animals. They aren't as appealing, or as bright. If my kind choose this path, we need to leech animal souls more often than when feasting off humans, but I feel better doing this than hunting down mortals." Anthony looked down, ashamed at what he confessed to me, but I was oddly proud of him.

"It must have taken a lot of practise," I mused softly, half my attention on the conversation, and the other half on his hands in my hair.

"Well, it did take a while to get over the habit of lunging at the bright souls that passed my way," he said with a rueful expression.

"If it's any consolation, I'm glad you did," I whispered into his chest and the hands in my hair stopped, only to move to wrap around my waist.

"I am too, Marie. I am too," Anthony mumbled back. "Your company is worth more than the taste of any golden soul."

"What's a "golden soul"?" I asked, raising my head to look into his silvery eyes.

He stared into my green eyes with equal intensity and I nearly felt the need to look away. Shifting me on his lap, he said in a low, clear voice, "Golden souls are souls that shine brightest for one catcher. They are coveted for their rarity and their taste."

My nose furrowed a little as I mused this over. "Does this mean I only shine bright for you?"

Shaking his head, he muttered, "If only that were the case. Your soul shines beautifully for everybody, which means I will need to protect you from others of my kind. However, I'm the biggest threat to you as I see it brighter than anybody else."

Sighing, I breathed, "At least that makes me a little special to you."

"What?" Anthony was close to resting his eyes, but my comment made them snap open. "You think I only stand around you for your inner light, for your soul? No," his voice was raised in anger and I cowered slightly at the noise, "I stick around because of you. Your kindness, your understanding, your mind."

My eyes were wide in shock at his proclamation, but he kept going, "I love you, can't you see that? Are you so perceptive to other things that you cannot see my love?"

Gasping, I whispered adoringly, "You love me?"

"More than anything else in the world, Marie," he told me breathlessly, his silver-grey eyes blazing with a fierce passion.

Cupping his face, I declared with the utmost conviction, "I love you, too."

Snapping the book shut, I decided that I couldn't stand reading anymore. It was like watching a train wreck; you know something bad is about to happen so you close you eyes, but in the end you always seem to peek out of a corner. I did not want to relive the crash ending of my relationship – even if it was told through the eyes of another.

But barely ten minutes later, I had opened my book again, and read between the lines; realizing what I had missed when my mind had previously been overwhelmed by stress. The further I read, the more relieved I was to see that the plot diverted greatly from my own life. However, there were still bits and pieces that reminded me of the Cullen's and of Edward.

"Where do soul catchers come from?" I asked Anthony one day as we walked hand in hand through a park.

Smirking at me, he started to ramble jokingly, "When a mommy soul catcher and a daddy soul catcher love each other each other very much they get together and – "

I cut him short by punching his arm in a playful gesture, even though I probably didn't hurt him in the slightest. The smirk on his face grew, but I just shook my head at him.

Sighing, I reiterated, "No, I mean seriously, where do you all come from?"

"Depends. Do you believe in God? If so, then He created us. Do you believe in Darwinism? If so, we just evolved that way, because of environmental factors," he answered cryptically.

"Actually," I confessed, "I'm not too sure what to believe in anymore."

Anthony shrugged and said, "That's understandable."

"But are you born like this –" I pointed to his body before continuing,"– or were you made into this, like werewolf bites?"

Scratching the back of his head, he tried to explain, "We were made like this. There's a way to turn the soul black and it's a complex procedure, with lots of pain. I think if we sing harsh words to the soul, it would slowly change to black. On average, changes take about three days. Typical that inhuman creatures have evil ways of doing things via torture."

I stopped walking and halted Anthony too. Raising my hand, I placed it over his heart feeling my hand radiate heat in comparison to his body. Quietly I said, "I bet your soul is still white and beautiful." He covered my hand with his own and we stood for a moment in peace.

It was strange for me to skip forward through books – usually I would dutifully read the entire thing through – but I already knew the story. Not only did I write it, but also I had lived it, to a degree anyway.

With a hesitant pause, I enquired, "How do you do it?"

"Hmm?" Anthony's mind was obviously elsewhere, his relaxed frame beside me in bed, our voices in low whispers, so that we wouldn't wake my roommate, who was down the hall.

"How do you take a soul from someone?" At this, his head spun around to me faster than I thought possible.

"Do you really want to know?" he asked seriously. Nodding slowly, I used my eyes to show that I was serious.

In a deadpan voice, he quickly rattled off, "You give them the kiss of death. Basically, to an outsider, it looks like hardcore making out, but in reality, their soul gets taken out and then the body is left to die from various causes, but the main one is insanity. No one ever survives the experience – it's too traumatic. Animals are different; you need to break the jaw and inhale. Which is really messy, but I find it more tasteful than making out with our victims."

A sudden thought struck me, and I said, "That's why you were so tense the time we kissed."

"Yeah, I was trying very hard to stop myself from inhaling your soul," Anthony said, a little shame colouring his features.

"Does it hurt you? My soul?" My throat was suddenly tight with worry; did I hurt him by just being near him?

His face quickly became a reassuring mask and he said, "Not too much; the glare from your soul is a little painful, but I'm getting used to it."

"Is there any way for that pain to go away?" I did not want to make him hurt unnecessarily.

In a joking tone of voice, obviously trying to make light of the situation, Anthony replied, "Unless you die or become a catcher, then no."

"Great idea, I'll become a catcher!" I cried out as loud as I could without waking my roommate. My mind was buzzing with excitement at the thought; it actually made a lot of sense. "You know what? I'm surprised that we didn't think of that earlier!"

"No!" roared Anthony, but I quickly muffled the noise with my hand. When I saw that he stopped yelling, I slowly removed my hand. His eyes were burning with anger and his frame was shaking. What did I do?

"You are not becoming a soul catcher. You are too pure to cross over to the dark side. I won't let it happen," he told me forcibly. "Marie, I want you to stay human."

"Why should I? I'm going to be with you for the rest of my life, aren't I? I love you. And you love me. When I die, what would you do?" I challenged.

"Well, I would follow you as soon as I could," he answered back immediately and confidently. It seemed like he had given it plenty of thought.

"But suicide seems unnecessary when we have the solution so close at hand!" I whispered loudly, my voice filled with indignation. "I would brave the pain to spend an eternity with you, as equals."

A familiar flash of frustration crossed Anthony's sharp silver eyes, which were slowly turning a dark shade of grey. He would need to hunt soon. "I won't change you. Understand that, Marie."

He cupped my cheek and with his thumb stroked it lovingly. "Please understand this; you wouldn't want this life. I have walked the earth for centuries and would swap it all to be human again."

I covered his hand with mine as I told him gently, "But you were alone then. An eternity together would be worth it, wouldn't it?"

"Not in exchange for blackening your soul and destroying your humanity," he answered.

Biting my bottom lip, I forced my anger to be pushed back down and I mused calmly, "Maybe your sister would do it."

"Allison wouldn't dare," hissed Anthony. Before I could argue some more, he glanced at the alarm clock on the bed stand and murmured gently, "It's late, and you should sleep."

When he started humming a lullaby, I was undone. His voice was lulling me to sleep, and instead of fighting it, I went with the flow. There was always tomorrow to continue the argument.

Hell, even writing this scene gave me no insight to why Edward wouldn't change me. My throat tightened when I realized that was best; I was merely a distraction for him, and if I was ordered for an eternity without him, I don't know what I would have done. At least I know there are only eighty or so years for me, hopefully even less. I would not purposely harm myself or do anything to speed up death – I had passed that phase when I rode motorcycles and went cliff diving.

Sighing, I flipped past all the fluff and hit the scene that the prologue was taken from – the scene where Anthony left Marie.

We walked through the deserted park, the stars just coming out to shine, but it was hard to see with all the light pollution caused by the numerous lampposts dotting the area.

My hands were shoved in the pockets of my jacket to prevent them from fiddling with something. For some reason, I felt nervous, probably because Anthony had said, "We need to talk." No good ever comes from those words.

Trying to reassure myself, I reasoned that Anthony just wanted to apologise once again for the horrible graduation party fiasco.

What had happened was Jason had given me the perfect gift and in my enthusiasm, I leapt up and kissed him cheek. I should have known better than that. I should have known that that little action broke his control. My mouth and soul being so close to him, easy pickings for his unsated desire, he lost it.

Kissing with Jason was not only awkward and painful because he was my boyfriend's brother, but because I could feel him taking my life. If Anthony and his family had not intervened, I would probably be dead.

When Anthony started to talk, I wished that Jason had killed me. Because the pain of death could not even mildly face off to this; Anthony was planning on leaving me.

"You were a good distraction, Marie," he told me in a deadpan voice. "But times move on, and I think that's what we need to do."

"Don't do this, Anthony!" I started sobbing, and my knees gave out. Anthony caught me and gently sat me down on the ground, but there was no emotion on his face; it was as though someone wiped his face clean.

"I thought you loved me" The pain in my voice was evident as I gasped out the words. "Forever, you promised we could be together forever."

"A part of me will always love you," he hedged. But I could read between the lines; he felt nothing for me anymore.

"You can live a nice human life without me," he tried to comfort me, but I was beyond reason. He didn't understand – life was worthless without him.

Gasping sobs still ripped from me as I choked out desperately, "But I want a life with you!"

"I'm sorry Marie, but that can't happen." He paused before adding, "Can you promise me one thing?"

I nodded eagerly; he was breaking my heart, but I would still follow him to the ends of the universe.

"Stay safe, Marie," Anthony whispered, a touch of panic in his voice. It was the first sign of emotion he had shown all night. But I thought nothing of it. He probably didn't want me cutting myself up or anything. Not that I would – I had my father to think about.

My head bobbed aimlessly as I agreed. Anthony hesitated again, and he muttered in a low voice, "Since you are doing that, I will promise you this; I will stay away from you and let you live in peace." Ducking his head, he touched his lips to my forehead once and moved away. Like a shadow he retreated into the darkness and I saw him no more.

Before, I thought I was in agony, but with his presence actually missing, I ripped to shreds and finally let the pain overwhelm me.

I didn't listen to the warning signs and for that, the icy touch of heartbreak was burning me. When Anthony told me not to read any further into his nature, I should've listened. It would have saved me the pain. But, I knew deep down, that I wouldn't trade our time together for anything.

Everything, the pains, the ache, the tears, were all worth it; the time spent with him was priceless.

But it was hard to remember the good times when the pain of his departure was eating up my insides.

My eyes were glued to the last page in the book, but my mind was elsewhere. Even my own writing from my own experience, did not seem to properly portray the pain I felt that day so many years ago.

But I really left this story on a cliffhanger – exactly the way my life was like when he left me. At least I now knew why I had Writer's Block. Before, I was drawing all my inspiration unknowingly from a past experience. I had no knowledge of how to turn my book into a happy ending; it was because I never really got to experience one.

Liked "Northern Lights"? Next in the Northern Series, "Northern Star"! Will Marie find Anthony once again, or will she connect with Jackson? Comes out soon!

I traced the promo underneath the blurb with my fingertips and I pondered how I was going to write the ending. There were many people eagerly awaiting the next instalment and I knew I would need to hurry up. But who would want to read the reality of Marie? How life was continually dull and how she became a writer? No one wants that.

So I toughened my resolve and decided to make her happy ending come true. Just because my dreams were torn apart, didn't mean my story needed to. I would write the happy ending I never got.

Would my fictional happy ending be with Jackson, or with Anthony? Jacob or Edward? I loved Jacob, but I knew it was not the love I experienced with Edward. Nothing would ever encapsulate that. And nothing ever would.

Edward leaving signalled the twilight of my life, and I was left to explore the darkness of the night alone. Jake tried lighting my way, but his light was always dim to me. He was my sun, but his light was nothing on the pure energy that Edward gave the world around me.

My chest didn't break apart as I thought this, and I didn't start gasping for air. I had lived with this ... disability for too long. I had learned to live with the loss. Not to mention Jacob helped too. He patched the gaping hole in my chest enough for me to think about Edward without dying on the inside. Sometimes I wished I could love him back, but I knew it was impossible. My soul and heart belonged irrevocably to Edward. They were no longer my own things to control.

Sighing, I started typing out on my computer, lost in a world of fantasies and make believe. For a few hours, I let myself believe that Edward came back and that we lived happily ever after. Of course, biting reality brought me out of that, and I realized that life wasn't like that.

The maid fell in love with the prince, but he used her and threw her to the side. As he rode off into the sunset with some random princess, the poor little maid was forced to pine over her loss. In this story, I was the tear stained maid, destined to a life of misery.

But like anyone else, I liked a happy ending, so I tried my best to write one for Marie and Anthony. Call me sad, but it helped to vent my life into these books, and it helped more so now that I was knowingly doing it. It wasn't as easy as I wanted it to be – I think my somewhat sombre mood screwed up their ending into a more difficult course, but I thought the drama strengthened them.

Anthony was going to kill himself because Rosetta told him that I had died in a car accident. I couldn't wrap my mind around the information that Allison was telling me. I hadn't died – but I had crashed when my speeding caused the car to wrap around a pole. At the time, the exhilarating speed and hallucinations seemed worth the danger.

But that was before I knew my actions have somehow caused Anthony's demise.

Why would my death elicit such a reaction from him? He loved me no longer. I would guess that he wanted to die because he felt guilty that he did not protect me. Overdramatic fool. I still loved him so much. Sighing, torn between screaming and sobbing, I knew what I had to do.

Allison started to ask me – no actually, beg me – to come and talk some sense into him. However, she didn't need to waste any breath convincing me. As soon as the question slipped from her lips, my heart knew immediately that I had to go to him.

When I nodded in agreement, Allison hurriedly scampered upstairs to get my passport – I had to go to Mexico, where the Elders resided. The Elders being the oldest of the soul catchers, they were the close as soul catchers would get to royalty. When I made my way to the car, and out of the forest where Allison and I were talking, I heard a shout from behind me.

Jackson was running after me, he wanted me to stay, not run after the "soul suckers". He begged me to stay with him. But I couldn't. Anthony was my life, regardless of whether he left me or not.

Although Jackson patched me up, filling the gaping hole in my chest, I couldn't love him. At least, not in the way he wanted me to. Even though Anthony did not want me, my heart, my body, my mind and my soul were all his. And I could not give Jackson something that I didn't own and control entirely. He deserved so much more than that.

He never could understand how I loved Anthony, being a shape shifter and all. When I shook my head and turned him down, anger caused him to burst into the form of a mountain lion and stalk off. A tear trickled down my cheek, but that was all I did to mourn. Now I had to save Anthony.

This was all wishful thinking, dreams of what I wished could happen. I wished that Edward loved me all this time, instead of getting bored of me.

We were safe; I got Anthony out of Mexico, but at a price. I would need to be changed before the year was out. It was a little price to pay for Anthony.

Allison mumbled some excuse about looking in the stores, and left Anthony and me alone for a bit. This was the moment I was dreading, but I knew it had to be done.

For reasons unknown to me, I felt like I had to add the Volturi. Well, not exactly them, but mention that there actually is a ruling party for this universe. To my pleasant surprise, the words flowed with more ease than I thought. Making this new ending was exhilarating, freeing somehow, yet it still caused my chest to pang with a painful echo.

I made Anthony, essentially Edward, tell Maria, which was basically me, that he had always loved her. I felt a little bit depressed that I was living out my dreams vicariously through my story, but I knew if Edward ever read it, he wouldn't care. He didn't care about me anymore. But I would make Anthony love Maria. His reason for leaving was her safety. He still loved her all this time. A fantasy I knew that was not reality.

For hours I wrote. As much as I would have liked to have to have written a happy ending, I knew that it would be a terrible book without some twists and turns.

Victor was coming after us. When Anthony killed his blonde female mate, Jamie, he sought my death as a sufficient revenge. All the subterfuge was in vain if he was coming after Anthony and me here in the caves.

Anthony swore that he would risk his life to save mine – but what he didn't seem to understand was that his death was the biggest thing I feared. It was hard enough when he left me, but for him to leave me forever, it would be something I would not be able to live through.

Finally, I wrote the conclusion to my fairytale. The ending that was not real, and it merely existed in my imagination.

The fight between Victor and us was over. We won. The shape shifters created a new bond fighting alongside my soul catchers. Everyone survived, and we were all finally safe. I didn't think anything could get any better.

But then Anthony pulled me away to another room in the house. He took me to his bedroom and spun around, only to drop onto one knee. I gasped, finally realizing his intentions.

"Marie, I love you more than you can imagine. It's like I can't be without you, like you are the very air I breathe. Will you be mine forever? Will you marry me?" As he said that, he slipped a hand into his back pocket and drew out a velvet case.

Popping it open, I saw a sparkle and realized it was a ring. He was seriously asking me to marry him. Before he could say anything else, I leapt down on him and started leaving kisses all over his face.

"Yes, yes, yes," I mumbled happily over and over again. My heart soared, and I could tell he was happy too when he picked me up and spun me around.

With teary eyes, I watched him slip the ring onto my finger, and he pulled me into a close embrace before whispering in my ear, "Forever."

Tears were running down my face at this point, and I laid a hand over my heart and whispered, "Yours, forever. Whether you want it or not." But it hurt so much when I knew he would never come back to claim it, because he didn't want it, and I knew he never would.

And so the lion fell in love with the lamb...

Edward said that to me once. But now it was like the lion had ripped the veins of the little lamb open and left it to bleed slowly to death, every minute turning into what felt like an hour, ever hour becoming a day, the pain never ending, no quick relief in sight, and in the end we all just wish for death to speed up...

It was my price to pay for prying into the world forbidden to the mortals. The warning was there, but I didn't listen. I was paying the price by having my heart ripped out. Yet I still couldn't find it within me to really regret what I did.

Love is a many splendoured thing... until it leaves you for dead.


A/N: Well, it wasn't a happy story, now was it? *Grins evilly*.

I, personally, very much like the depressing ending, but there is a chance I will expand this into a short story where Edward reads the story, realizes what he's done, and run back to Bella to sweep her off her feet, etc. So put this story on your Alert List, just in case. But don't hold your breath for that happy ending...

Review, and I just might make it into something more ... fluffy? Gah, who am I kidding? Writing this angst was fun. Or review and tell me you like the depressing ending. That would be cool too. Also tell me – did you just read the story because the title said not too? *Laughs*.

Yeah, I hope this wasn't too boring or anything. But the idea had been rolling around my head for a while, so I just needed to free it. Because Bella was "making up" the story, I didn't include everything off the Twilight Saga, 'cause that would be too coincidental for my liking. Just so you know, in case you wanted to complain or something.

Biscuits for reading. :-)