We can go into the depths of human knowledge a perception but never really understand the full meaning behind the light...we can never grasp what one was meant to do and say, so instead, we assume. Generally, what most people think is accepted without question. One person can contaminate another, until an entire species is absorbed into believing whatever the hell they were told.

I'm the perfect example.

Most people think I betrayed my cousin willingly and effortlessly; as if I bear no soul or concise, as if I had no problem with stomping the love and dreams out of an innocent girl, especially my own flesh and blood. Of course, a girl having her heart broken a millions times over must be someone else's fault...and when they find out who to blame, Lord have mercy.

Some people convince themselves that I am a byproduct of evil itself; that I chose my well-being over the love of my family and invaluable friendship I shared with my second-cousin, Leah Clearwater.

Some people think I chose this. Some people think I happily made the decision. Most believe I suffer from no guilt.

Lies weave through each and everyone, like a needle poking it's ways through a fabric in an intricate pattern. Gossip filters our thoughts daily, and even though we know it's wrong, we believe every single word of our neighbors 'informant', who happens to know every single excruciating detail of our past and present.

Most people don't like me.

Most people who knew who Leah and Sam were, find it in their hearts to despise the very air I breathe. I'm known as that girl who broke apart the yearbook voted "most likely to get married" couple of La Push.

I'm the seductress who convinced poor, infantile Sam to leave his rightful love, his one and only. I pushed him in ways he could not deny, and tore him away from the right...who took him from his place.

I am the femme fatal, who moves only to beg and linger on every word he says; I hypnotize him in so many different ways that he's too confused to realize or maybe unaware that he broke the heart of the woman he so desperatly needs.

I am the child snatcher that pulled him out the womb; I am the gardener that grabbed the roots of his foundation and used it for my own greedy need.

In more modern terms, I am the home-wrecker.

But whatever title I may be granted (Jezebel, whore, flirt...) I still manage to look past and love the man I'm with.

No one understands how tough it is, to hear that you were never worth the person you're in love with. No one understands the feeling of second best. No one knows how badly I wished this never happened, but on the other side, he is everything I need.

And because I wish I did not have him, because I wish Leah was still his, does that not make me unselfish? The fact that I'm willing to give the one person I cherish more than life, to my cousin, cannot classify me as selfish, can it?

No one knows, how much Sam and I are in love, they choose to spit on our paths and discourage our union. They choose to stick in the past and never welcome change.

But some people do see the love, and those who do, are all the more vindictive.

Those people think I did it just because I felt like being mean for the day. Some believe I took him because I despised my cousin and wanted him for myself. Most view me as a backstabbing bitch.

And no one knows the truth.

I live today, with those lies and accusations pressed on my face like the scars that mare me forever. I live with knowing that everyone's seemingly sweet smiles are nothing but synthetic masks. Everyone's worries are secretly sadistic, with hope of tragedy towards my wellbeing. My name passes through these vile mouths as quick as a recipe that'd guarantee you the best stuffing at Thanksgiving dinner would.

Through this bitter treatment, I taught myself to sit through it and fight back with my own sarcasm. I told them I wasn't going to be the weak little duckling they thought I was.

My name, is severed in broken into so many disrespecting and degrading titles, but no one dares speak a word to my face. No one dares to face the wrath of Sam Uley, but very few people know that it is my anger that is to be feared from.

I would never claim myself as a perfect woman who lives only through selflessness and repressed desire; it'd be foolish to expect me to be an angel that never exists. And though it seems that I am, I never was.

I'm selfish. I'm needy. I'm dependent. I'm weak. I'm judgmental. I'm human.

I may not have the will power that so many people do, but does that make me immoral, deceiving and untrustworthy?

Just because I gave into desire this one time— just because I thought of myself, does that make me a terrible person, that deserves the treatment I suffer?

Some people are so strong in their family ties, some people place betrayal against a loved one or any wrongdoing against member of the closes people you have as an offense as high as treason. And most people, not so strict or loving in their family, still place a high dishonor upon dating a cousins ex.

I myself, am I firm believer in family first, but when certain things are more important to you than family, is it wrong that I chose that over them?

And underneath it all, most people crave the truth... they wish to get inside my head and figure out why I did half the things I did, and of course, the reasons are as selfish and self-preserving as the next person.

Some people say I wanted to betray my cousin, but I would never think of such things willingly. Some people say I had no problem with hurting her in the process, but no one thinks that I wither in guilt every single night, no one knows my back shivers every time he tells me loves me, when I know he spoke those same words to my cousin just months ago...

No one blames Sam Uley, the man behind it all. No one places fault on the tribal elder for breaking Leah's heart, but everyone jams my throat with sarcasm and hatefulness and questions on my humanity and morals. My original attempt to be nice and friendly with my future neighbors was undermined the day I moved in. And when they learned I was related to Leah, the insensitive comments only accelerated.

No one knows how I got these scars. And I doubt, that even if they knew, no one would care. This craze image is pasted on my name forever, but I wish nothing more but to shout out my window and scream what really happened.

Without Sam, I'd be a heartless woman. I'd be empty; worthless, hopeless, lost... I'd be pierced with pain in every step I took. I'd be a depressed soul that longs for a second part that I'll never get. I'd be what my cousin is, now.

And yes, it is terrible, that I know how my life would be like and still chose to befall that pain on my cousin, but ask yourself, wouldn't you do the same?

Would you deny a love that I cannot even lie is supernaturally strong just so your temporarily heartbroken cousin will live a second of happiness, and possibly, trust you even more with your choice to pick her over him? Or would you accept, and understand the consequence from your actions—including the agony, and depression of your own family?

Yes, it is a horrific question to ask, and being the person that I am, I chose the former. I originally chose to deny Sam, I initially wanted or even preferred the fact that both of us would be depressed. I, being forever empty, but at least Leah would get over it. At least she would be okay.

I loved her enough, to choose her over me. I did choose her. I wanted the best...I wanted her to be okay. And I would never tolerate dating her boyfriend. The thought provoked a vile thought inside me; I was never that type of person.

But as I thought my idea was well done and useful, Sam didn't agree. He lived and breathed my name, my presence...and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

My face, ripped open from the sharpness of his claws. The pain I felt was enough to erase anything I knew, I lost my conciseness, and with it, my sanity.

And when I woke up, scars trailed down my face and through my arms. The memory would haunt me forever in the mirror.

So if a good person chose the right decision, why does something so terribly wrong happen? Why does my face get butchered? Why do I forever bear the feeling of ugliness and lack of self worth? How come...when I decided to be self-less, I was punished?

And for this, I forgot about my cousin. I forgot about her love. I forgot about her heart. I forgot about others, and for once, I thought about me.

I thought of my life without Sam...a man who had been so broken and sorry for what he did. A man who undoubtedly loved me.

I saw myself as a broken woman with a broken face, searching for love in a world filled with superficial mocks and cackling.

And most of all, I see myself getting rejected and laughed at for the ugliness that I show every day. I see myself being seen selfishly judged for my looks first and foremost.

So if the rest of the world will be selfish, why can't I?

Why not sit back and accept the man that promises to love me forever? Why not be secure and happy with someone who will pamper my feet for all of eternity? Why not love the person, who ruined me?

For this, I realized I'd gladly take the spot of second best. I'd gladly betray my cousin. I'd gladly take the years and years of judgment from the La Push citizens.

I'd gladly have him kiss me every morning and night; and tell me he loves me. I'd gladly leave him gasping for air with every word I spoke. I'd gladly make him paranoid and worried for my safety 24/7.

One may argue, that I am a coward. And I would be the first to agree. My biggest fear was dying alone, and if I did not have Sam, that fate would be insured.

And though, I still feel the guilt and pain whenever I look into her eyes, I know one day she'll find it in her heart to forgive me; one day she'll move on to people more deserving of her, and find love with someone who will never break her heart. One day...and it may be fifty years from now, she'll come back.

Now, I must take her coldness and wish nothing but good things. She never knows how much I wish the best for her; she will never know how sorry and regretful I am. She will never know how much I love her.

Besides the hurtful neighbors, I must also jump down on my pride. I can never remember how Sam never had a choice; or never wished this for himself. I have to forget that he loved her for longer, and probably wishes it was her he was kissing

I should find a way to suppress my rebellious thoughts and forget that Sam was never really mine to keep.

But whenever I have my doubts, I remember of the vision I thought of those years ago in the hospital. I remember men mocking me, cruelly and laughing bitterly in my face. I remember rejection, and the feeling of suffering. The feeling of loneliness.

I have so much to remember, I have so much to deal with, but I can never give off the vibe that I am unhappy. It is very important to keep smiling; I can never stress the vitality in always having muffins on the table. Because if something is off, someone will ask, and I will always end up gushing out the truth.

And as twisted as it sounds, I am happy.

A/N: Normally I'm anti-Emily, but with this fic, I saw another side that was more human-like and reasonable. Personally, I could deal with this explanation better than half the crap people believe such as a "imprinting = true love". (Bleh). What do you think?
Now I'm starting to hate Sam now...but you can count on the fact that I'll always be anti-imprint! Muahahahah x3

Note: I'm getting a lot of hits and no reviews. It's really pissing me off. Can I seriously get some reviews up in here? :)