She was the belle of the ball.

She had the social stigma of a queen, she walked like one too...and the thing I know most about her, is she didn't even know she had it. She had natural grace, and she had no clue. She has never noticed that she had every eye on her, and I can honestly believe that.

How couldn't I? She was my sister for half my life.

Every eye was on her. Always. No matter their fates; no matter their situation, they would watch her when she left. They would watch her when she came.

How could they not? She was exceptionally beautiful. She had the exotic features that could land her a job in any modeling agency. Her lashes would pelt with every roll of her eye; her skin was a beautiful shade of copper, perfectly textured, perfectly even and gorgeous with her contrasting black hair. And glowing dark eyes ...onyx, like night. Dark like her anger that riled deep within her. Like the pain she felt everyday.

I wished I could be more of a sister, but how could I when I was reason enough to keep her this way? I shook my head in horrible guilt.

I looked towards the party, the dancing never stopping. She was never was one of those dancers, yet someone always came to her and asked. And even though she would always turn them down, they still asked. And she still has people coming to her...and she still turns them down.

Some may think that she's some sort of snob, but she's not. She hates phonies and facades; she detests false friendships and pointless conversations. She was never much of a socialite, but she had so many friends that surrounded her. I don't know if Leah really does consider them her friends, but I'm sure they do.

She hates those who lied and cheated; but what good is deeming someone worthless, if you never give them a chance? Leah never believed in chances. She was a loner by heart.

Despite this, no one stopped trying. Sam had been one of those people, and that was the reason why they fell in love.

One day, when I was curious of how he met her, I asked on their union and he simply told me every single detail. I wasn't mad that he remembered, but rather disgusted with myself. It dawned on me, that I came between a relationship that was picture-perfect. Leah and Sam were the epitome of romance. I laughed when he told me she turned him down seventeen times before they actually went on a date, I cried when he told me that their first date had been magical – on a blanket, late in the evening while watching the sunset drop...

I took a deep breath. No. I wasn't going to think about it. I wasn't going to think about how I could simply be the reason why Leah's life took such a terrible turn...

Besides Sam though, everyone and anyone wanted to hold a meaningful conversation with Leah Clearwater. Everyone wanted her to themselves.

Aside from her her captivating looks, she kept those latched on her, because she was the type of person who everyone wanted to impress. For some strange reason, people wanted her to like them. People would do anything to make her smile.

It's so inexplicable to write in words, but easy to comprehend when you're looking at her. I can only attempt to transfer what I know to you.

She rarely did smile; even before this mess. Not because she was unhappy, but because she was reserved. She was more focused on living, then so much on fitting in. Because of this, people swarmed around her like an annoying case of bees.

And because Leah was Leah, she, without hesitation, swatted them all away.

I had been swatted. I wasn't dead, however...but I was still that half-alive bug living on the kitchen counter, with one demented leg that twitched...just begging to end, but also wishing to survive. That was what I was to her. That was what our friendship had endured. But because it wasn't entirely dead, it made me realize how strong my relationship with Leah had been.

Before, she only had me as a close friend, as she usually told me. She never wasted her time of fake friendships, she never wasted her time on those who kissed her ass.

The music played until it ended silently, cuing us that familiar frail man was going to speak again. The legends no doubt.

I watched Leah. She was sitting there, staring into space with a forlorn expression. She was so aloof most of these days, it was hard to believe there was a soul in her fiery brown eyes.

She had lost so much, and I always wanted to comfort her. But knowing Leah, she'd only swat at those bees. She'd only roll her eyes at our pathetic, fake friendship.

Even thinking that made me wince. Enough to capture Sam's attention, who eyed me worryingly and asked if something was up. I only shook my head and continued with my staring.

No. Our friendship wasn't fake, at least I never thought so. Despite my desperate holding onto the one thing I had ever since I was young, Leah threw it away just like how I left her in the ditch.

I gave her up for my happiness with Sam. I made that decision a while ago. I could never have both, so why was I still clinging onto what was the past?

Leah's definition of friendship was a strong bond that could last no matter what. That could withstand anything. That could stay forever. That would always be that lifeline; hope and faith, trust and love always there whenever we needed it...no matter what.

Even though Sam says it's alright, and we have an excuse...I can never understand why Imprinting was ever excluded from the category no matter what.

I pondered. I thought and and realized. "No matter what meant"...well...no matter what; deep in the context, it doesn't matter what you or I believe, no matter what is sealed tight. It doesn't matter if it was so hard to ignore or resist, it doesn't matter that I'd be ripping my soul apart in doing so...it doesn't matter. Our friendship failed to survive, therefore, it was void.

It only made sense. It didn't prove anything. I was starting to realize that as long as I had Sam, I didn't have any problem with anything in my life being a lie...hurting Leah had hurt me, but I had got over it. Simply because I had Sam.

Unfortunately, because it didn't, it only hurt more. I could look at it the way I mentioned before, but then again, the truth is always there...and it was up to me to identity it and judge my morals before ever saying another word.

It was then that I realized that I don't have an excuse. I betrayed my cousin and best friend, and I have no excuse. I had promised I would be there for her anytime, but here I am failing her. Again.

Despite our falling out, I thought about her often. I tried to figure her out. I tried to understand her more clearly. I could always understand why she did things before, so why stop trying now? I still cared for her, very much. In fact, her and Sam are the two people I love the most in this world.

I have never been severely depressed, but the times where I have felt unnoticed, or unloved and hurt...I would want to take it out on the world. I'd love to let other people understand what I am feeling.

The average person would want to take down everyone with them. If they were miserable, they would want to infect as many people as possible with the same miserableness they were feeling. Revenge, it's only human.

Despite the great amount of pain she felt and how much I wanted to believe it, that wasn't what Leah was doing and I knew it.

After losing the love of her life, and losing her best friend; she was angry. We violated her trust, we took everything and it made her furious beyond belief.

Losing her father had killed her the most. The one figure who was there all her life, was suddenly gone. She was feeling lost...where did she go now?

Losing her humanity was a final blow, but on top of that...her dreams were crushed. She phased into a wolf right at the end of her senior year. She could never attend the college she wanted to, turning into a wolf blew that chance for her...blew her chance of ever moving on and making something of herself. And because of that, she was stuck listening to Sam think thoughts about me. She never had the chance to move on, and now her pain was smothered in her face.

And I might be the only one who understood her. Well, not necessarily understood...but comprehended. Lord knows, I have never felt that much pain in my life...and I can't even attempt to try.

But back to understanding...one thing I knew about Leah Clearwater, was that she utterly despised pity. She hated it more than anything in this world. You did not pity Leah Clearwater.

You just didn't.

But we did it anyway, how could we not? She has been through so much, so much that we just want to help. Make her smile. Let the good old Leah come back...but she was long gone...and I had no reason to believe she was coming back.

But Leah will never need help. She will never take your look of empathy for the right way. Her thoughts are vindictive, her mind is vicious, her thoughts are laced with evil and secretive things not to makes those miserable on purpose; not to make them feel bad. No, that wasn't her goal at all.

She would never make them feel her pain just because she was so weak that she wanted the world to be as miserable as her; Leah was too strong, hell, she was the epitome of strength. She would never take an innocent soul and crush it completely just for perks; she wasn't evil by nature.

Leah thought the things she did, because she would easily prefer be hated than pitied. She would rather have everyone never give her the benefit of the doubt, she'd rather have them hate her...have them hate her so much, that they would never...ever think of feeling sorry for her.

And I understood her. I understood so much. I got her like I always did; I still knew her best.

So knowing that, how could I keep living this life?

How could I be so happy? When I know I am a direct reason to her pain? Where I could be blamed for murder; of a once happy soul...a once beautiful, smiling girl now had her eyes to the ground in an emotionless mask. Now had her heart broken. Now had her eyes tired, her weak arms and back kept strong, but I knew that she was hurt beyond belief.

And she stayed there, not caring one bit. She was still the authentic Leah I knew, but she was different. La Push changed her, and because of feeling this undeniable pain of hell, how could anyone really hate her?

I knew the boys only teased and made fun of her just because that was clearly the response she wanted, and no matter how much they wanted to hate her, they just couldn't. They all loved her, and they all subconsciously are waiting for her to smile again...for her to be back. I know it.

I wished and prayed she'd come back. Because I was selfish and craved her company, I craved her voice. I wanted to hear her talk to me again...I wanted to hear her speak to me. I wanted it back. Now that it's gone, now that she's gone, I wanted nothing more than her being back.

Trepidation filled me as I looked ahead; she wouldn't. She would never come back. Even if she would, she would never come back to me.

And then she stood. Every eye flew to her at once, but her own beautiful brown were on mine. I opened mine widely in shock as she twitched her lips into her infamous Mona Lisa smile and walked away from this beach party towards the cliffs, towards her home.

I ran after.

"Leah...wait!" I called, my heart hoping she would speak.

She turned around and I almost cried. Her eyes were dead. So empty, so lifeless, so emotionless...so much pain spread around. I could see conflict twirling inside. It was one thing to look at her from far away, but closer up...I felt her agony head on.

She didn't speak, and I took that as motion to talk.

"Where are you going?" I asked, eager.

"Have you ever felt like life was just pointless?" She asked, ignoring my question.

I opened my mouth but the words failed to transfer. No. I never had. I found my happiness in her former lover; I found my happiness in Sam. I breezed through it with nothing but smiles and laughter, and guilty thoughts circling around each kiss I shared with him.

"Jeez, Emily" she snorted, while rolling her eyes "I'm not suicidal or anything, I'm just thinking. Isn't it? The way you just wake up only to go back to sleep? The way were everything just swirls around for a bit and how tomorrows just never promised?"

I wasn't listening. The only thing I heard was that you called me Emily. It gave me joy that you finally addressed me, but a seeking feel of sorrow entered my soul. You called me Emily. Never by the pet nickname you invented for me...Oh, please Em...you would say in the old days. Those happy days.

"Yeah well...I'm headed home, see you around" You speak in a tone that implies that you aren't looking forward to that.

And I walk.

I take my time and look at you and your beautiful body leave. The dress you wore was not even the most flattering, yet somehow you made the revolting floral pattern look glorious; somehow you make your mothers old dress look inappropriate.

The way the fabric soothes and wraps around your waist in a sensual manner. The way the ugly pattern seems to hypnotize with each sway of your hips. The way where your legs are long and toned; beautiful shaped and thin to the eye...

I had never been envious of the way you could make anything sexy; how you could make the simplest of clothes pop in lustful ways. But I had always been jealous of your power...your skill, that you have mastered for the years, naturally.

And even through this, Leah, I am still jealous, because of your sneaking power to have every eye, including mine, always on you.