The morphine worked too well.

For three days, I lay still. Not screaming- not so much as twitching a single muscle. I thought to save Edward from my pain.

But slowly, I realized that I couldn't move at all. The burning stopped. My heart ceased to beat, and yet, I couldn't move. I heard everything- a car passed on the freeway, blaring rap. A baby- my baby?- cooed downstairs, and yet my eyes would not open. Edward still sat at my bedside, breathing evenly, never moving. And neither did I.


By the fifth morning, they knew something was wrong. Alice came and sent Edward to hunt, waiting until he was gone before she addressed me.

"Bella? I can see you moving. I can see it every time you decide to get up. I know you're awake- I can see that, too."

I couldn't answer her.


Edward began to panic. He paced the room, praying under his breath. He begged me to wake, he pled, he cried. I heard every word, every breath, but I couldn't respond.


On the sixth day, Carlisle joined Edward in my room.

He looked me over, hands flitting over my body. "She healed. She's changed. Bella is a vampire, Edward. I've never heard of a vampire not waking."

Edward said nothing, and eventually Carlisle left.


Finally, they brought in Renesmee. I could hear them arguing about it, worrying that I would wake up and attack her. But eventually, they gave in to Edward's pleas; Rosalie brought her to my side, leaning so she could pat my cheek.

As soon as I felt her touch, images floated through my mind. I saw myself, as a human, battered and bruised, and then as I must look now, pale and beautiful and terribly still. I saw myself rise and reach for my daughter, cuddling her in my arms as she laughed.

And still, I could not move.


Days passed. Although I could not participate, I listened to the family discuss my daughter. She was growing far too fast. They whispered that she would age and die before she reached five at the rate she grew.

Silently, stilly, I wept.


They told my father that I died in quarantine, that they weren't even allowed to take my body home.


They continued to bring Renesmee to me. She always sent me the same message: me rising and holding her, embracing Edward, being together. I could not move to comfort the child I died for.


Edward began to tell me the goings on in the house. He told me that Jacob had imprinted on Renesmee, and that he guarded us both so the family could hunt. I listened, aching to reach for him.


I sank into despair. Alice stopped insisting I was awake; she couldn't see me deciding to move. Edward never left my side.

As the weeks passed, Renesmee began coming on her own. She would step lightly into them room and sing to me, or recite poems that she had read. She always left me with a touch and a vision of me joining her.


I began to yearn for mortality. How cruel, that the fate that I had fought for would doom me to an eternity trapped. I could not beg for an end. I could not even weep.


A year after I turned, Edward came to me alone.

"They are leaving. We've been in Forks for too long; we've aroused too much suspicion here. Renesmee is going with them. I'm not fit to take care of her.

Bella, please. Please, wake up. Don't leave me alone."

And still, I could not move.