Author's Note: This is my first attempt at writing anything like this. It was just something on my mind that I wanted to get down and share. I have a general idea where I will be taking this, but in terms of timeline, I doubt I will be consistent. So with that, I hope you can enjoy it for what it is right now.

The waves crash against the rocks casting the salty droplets into the air. The breeze carries the moisture to my cool face and pulls a calm sigh from my lips. My name is Bella Cullen. Ten years have passed from the time I was known as Isabella Marie Swan and almost ten years since my heart took its last beat and I became a vampire. From the moment the venom finished its fiery torment and reached my heart, I have had the privilege to become acquainted with the "fine print" of being an immortal and supernatural being. The first consequence of vampirism is, of course, constantly battling the insatiable thirst for human blood. Though that is usually considered a nearly insurmountable weakness, I have somehow always managed it with ease. The psychotic monster with its one tracked mind lays dormant but coiled, ever prepared to lash out with unimaginable ferocity. Within its cage of the subconscious, it waits, wishing, wanting, hoping for human blood. The monster desires only that and in blood's presence, the monster claws at your mind focused solely on the thumping of a human's beating heart as it pumps the lifeblood beneath the slightly translucent and delicate veil of skin. Or so I have been told.

I have wondered why blood does not torment me as it does other vampires. Carlisle and I have often thought on it together during my sporadic visits to his office. It is known that he believes that the state, both mentally and physically, in which you are in before the venom consumes your body is carried over, and you become frozen in that state. Particular attributes, be it your natural energy, your charisma, or your insight, may be amplified during the change. It is his opinion that my knowledge of the thirst that was to come, in some way, prepared me. When I decided I wanted this life, I swore I would not allow myself to be controlled by the craving for human blood. I was determined to do anything and everything in my power to follow the Cullens' lifestyle and never falter. Carlisle feels that my forethought and resolve rendered me innately less drawn to human blood. As a result, the blood does not sing to me as it does to others. This is what we have come to believe is the most reasonable explanation, though, we can never know for sure.

It was one of the more peculiar things I have asked Carlisle. Why should I care about the reason why I'm not tempted by human blood, so long as I am not? This brings me to the burden that I could never truly grasp until I experienced it myself. Of all the changes, what I hadn't expected was the strain of always being aware. Never being able to slow down truly takes its toll on your sanity. As such, speculation, albeit sometimes a trivial task, serves a great purpose. Contemplation helps to settle my mind by acting as white noise, a steady stream of thoughts that needs no purposeful focus but provides sustenance for my never idle mind. However, there are moments when even this involuntary process offers no reprieve. Sometimes it is yourself you wish to escape. My own thoughts become my anguish and the source of limitless frustration. I often hunt, succumbing to the bestial instincts to achieve some separation, but it leaves me unfulfilled, leaves me still…wanting. Satisfying my thirst for nourishment only deepens the longing, my wanton yearning for a look, a touch, anything. That is my debilitating thirst, one I must soon quench lest desire escalate toward something beyond passion...toward...madness.

My mind has been perpetually consumed by despair, often forcing me away from the Cullen cabin for fear that my abounding desperation and fury may engulf Jasper. One day, it all became too much; I was unable to handle the imminent realization when it finally struck. Everything had become so clear, and in that instant, my life shattered. As the broken glass of my world lay around me, it reflected my true self, a distorted and empty Bella. Running without cause, purpose, or destination considered, I pounded my feet against the leaf covered forest floor to expunge all the thoughts of her. My usually unparalleled speed was no match for the demon of desire. I fled knowing that neither it nor I would tire; that I might never find escape from this terror. Focused on physical exertion, hoping I would somehow get away, I persisted. I pushed, running harder and faster, unwilling to stop and face the truth. It was working well enough until I was forced to still as the ground fell out from beneath my feet. Having reached the edge of the earth, halted in my attempt to flee, the demon caught up and slammed into my heart full force. I clutched at the gaping hole in my chest, feeling the fresh wounds of hopelessness and agony. A roar ripped through my being, giving form to my pain as I crumbled to the ground in defeat. Wallowing in the piercing reality of unrequited love, I stared down the sheer cliffside. The ragged and sharp surface exposed by the advancing and ebbing ocean looked inviting. Shaking my head harshly, I dismissed the thought as quickly as it had materialized. It offered no true salvation.

Chest heaving with choking sobs, I finally acquiesced and waited for the darkness to consume me…but it never came. Instead, I became entranced by the sound of the ocean. Exhausted and destroyed, I lowered myself from my hands and knees assuming the same vulnerable form I had taken in those woods, so many years ago. Clutching what little of myself I had left with my arms wrapped tightly around my body, I lost myself in the sound of the waves.

When the sun's warmth bathed my face, my eyelids fluttered open. A contented sigh, a sound forgotten, escaped passed my lips with the brilliant sight before me. Night had turned into day in what had only felt like moments. Those many hours had come and gone marked by no feeling, no awareness, and no new scars. My trance had been without anything, I just existed. My wish had come true, I had found a sanctuary. A place where the midnight shadows could be illuminated by an awakening sun.


That is what I always feel here. I am able to be still, reach more of the fuller, livelier self I used to know. Even brief moments revitalize me, masking afflictions. The cliffs make my wound a numbing throb, a reminder of what I want and that it will forever be unfulfilled. I still feel vacant and bare, but it is preferred over the penetrating agony that slowly and relentlessly rips me apart piece by piece if I am anywhere else. Standing on the edge of the forest open to the vast ocean, the cool moist sea breeze caressing my skin feels refreshing while the thunderous roars of the waves hinder and subdue most thought. Taking a deep inhale of the salty ocean air around me, I relish in the natural and cleansing aroma. As long as I am here, at my cliffs, there are no questions, no more doubts. There is only me, the waves, and the breeze.

I finally open my eyes knowing that I will have to return back to the house soon. Ever since first discovering my cliffs, the visits have become frequent. I fear that if they are too long, my absence will draw even more attention. Someone in my overly observant family will surely become suspicious, maybe suspicious enough to be worried. I suppress a growl at the thought. If anyone became worried, questions would certainly follow. All of which, I desperately wish to avoid.

It is not that I want to shut them out. On the contrary, I am usually very open with all of them. Rosalie and I have even grown close; the very thought of which still astounds me. I love everyone in my family dearly, and I know they would only worry because they too love and care for me. They would only ask out of concern and hope of helping me solve whatever was the matter. But how would I answer their questions, when I can't even answer my own? Toeing some pebbles over the cliffside, my shoulders slump with knowing that once I leave the situation that haunts my mind will resurface with vigor. Already I feel my thoughts begin to gravitate toward those threatening uncertainties. I try to distract myself only to end up reminiscing and thinking back to those pivotal years in Forks.

I had never been one to dwell too much on fate or destiny. Well, that was true until I met Edward Cullen. I smile as the memories of first seeing the Cullens and the awe of their perfection rush through me. After all Edward and I went through, after overcoming his thirst for my blood, James, Victoria, and the Volturi, I became certain that my fate was an eternity with Edward. He has given me the most loving family I have ever known and the most beautiful daughter anyone could ask for. But now, everything I cherish, what I have thought to be certain and true in my heart, has become shrouded in doubt.

How could things have gotten so confusing?

Why is what I have not enough?

Frustrated with the incessant torrent of questions, I stare out at the sea for the millionth time. I pause to relish one last moment of almost peace before I turn harshly on my heels to make my way back home. Immediately, my mind gets caught on the train of thought that drove me here today.

Was my decision to live with Charlie meant to bring about my being with Edward?

Recent events have brought me to an unshakeable doubt; that both my moving to Forks and meeting Edward may have only been steps along the road to my true forever. Momentarily pausing in my advancement to the tree line, I absorb the gravity of the doubt. I know the truth it holds and that I have only just now allowed myself to acknowledge it. Shaking my head to dissipate the hopelessness at the thought, I plunge into the forest quickly accelerating to an inhuman speed. My mind has begun to wander, and I don't wish to pollute my place of escape with these thoughts and emotions any more than I already have.