BitterSweet Oblivion

What if after Bella's transformation, just like Alice, she forgets her human life? How would she face her second life without her memories? How would Edward come to terms with the fact that Bella might never remember him EVER? Most of all, what would happen to poor little Nessie? This is a different take on the third book of BD.

Chapter 1 – Agony

The pain was bewildering.

Exactly that - I was bewildered. Every single part of my body was screaming in pure agony. It was as if it was not blood coursing through my veins anymore but outrageously hot, concentrated fire. But I can't scream for help; I can't even open up my eyes.

What was happening?

Was I being punished for all my wrongdoings? Was all this pain only apt for me – the atonement for my sins? If that was the case, how monstrous could they be for me to deserve being burn – alive and paralyzed? Or perhaps I was already dead and this was hell. That was more probable more than anything.

I racked my brains for at least one terrible act I committed to justify the torment I was being put through…and found…nothing.

As in, nothing.

I cannot remember a single thing, even a short, lone memory – good or bad. I cannot remember even my own name.

What was happening?

What does this mean?

Was this part of the torture – oblivion? Where was the Maker's impartiality? If I cannot recall even the slightest hint of my unforgivable crimes, surely, there was something amiss here. I just cannot accept this. I just cannot reconcile the fact that the Almighty is just yet He did not allow for me to have m memories back. Even just one. Even just the reason why I was even here in the first place.

I didn't know exactly when and how and why and what happened, but suddenly I was no longer unable to move. I was no longer paralyzed. I just knew it yet I did not dare act on it. I did not have the courage to even open my eyes and come face to face with my tormentors. I was too terrified of what I might see. If this was hell, I might not be alone. I cnnot stand the fact that I might see criminals – criminals like myself , people who so definitely deserve this kind of unimaginable agony. I just cannot accept that I was one of them.

I did not dare scream, either. I was extremely intimidated of what my punishers would do to me. It was highly possible that they would simply add more fire to my pyre if I did something that they would tip them off that I was still alive. Perhaps they thought I was dead, though right now I was fully convinced I was already. But there was something different in the surroundings that tells me I was still living. I paused and concentrated on a steady rhythmic beating of a heart.

My heart.

The beating, now that I noticed it, was suddenly growing quicker and quicker by the second. And the fire, oh, the fire, was getting hotter and hotter, too.

How was that possible?

Just when I thought there couldn't be pain anymore torturous than what I was feeling, he agony suddenly reached a new high, breaking its own fiery record. Maybe this was it. After a few moments, I'll succumb to the insurmountable pain I was buried under and being pushed deeper and deeper.