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I promise that this will be the last time you'll see me.
I won't come back.
I won't put you through anything like this again.
You can go on with your life without any more interference from me.
It will be as if I'd never existed.
The words seem to echo around me, clawing out the urge to run, to escape, or to even cry. What was the point? There was nothing left inside of me, just Edward’s words, over and over. He had been adamant that he had no soul, but now he had at least one: mine. With those words, he had torn it from my body and then dragged it behind him as he left. He’d taken every jagged edge, every open wound, the precious few indents left by the memory of care. There’s nothing left to make me a person, because he has taken everything from me.
He’d lied, over and over, straight to my face, and now he’d left. He lied to me and told me it was to protect me, but now there was no one left to protect me from myself. There was only the echo he’d left behind of every lie that he told me. Every time he’d told me it was too dangerous because of his family, his world, him, except…
He’d lied. Over and over. Straight to my face. And now, he’d left.
So I look for his face, even if it isn’t real. I listen for his voice, even in empty rooms. I get into strangers’ cars, ride motorcycles, anything, and now here I am. Hiking alone in the woods, staring down my death. But I’m not alone, because I can see his wide, worried eyes, and hear his perfect voice getting frantic as Laurant stalks towards me. As Laurant strokes my cheek, whispers impossible promises in my ear, and finally tilts my head to bare my neck.
As fire pours through my veins, his voice trails off and his body is blown away in the wind. As my flesh is burnt off and replaced by something stronger, a dam bursts. My blood boils over, and-
He has left me, and he’s never coming back.
I wail uselessly, shrieking into the forest because how dare he. He’d lied, and I’d told myself everything would get better once we were together, but it hadn’t and he had left. He’d taken every hope, every fragile dream I’d carried in my hands, and shattered it all. I desperately want revenge, flooded with rage and blood-lust and fucking burning, but half of me is still waiting.
Any second now, he’ll come back for me.
But I’m lying to myself, and the second an overgrown dog rushes into the clearing I’d made shredding trees with my bare hands, I rip the thing limb from limb. When more pour out from between the trees left standing, I kill them all and suck the blood out of their corpses. Eventually, there are no more wolves, and my rage cools to a simmer. I spend every moment focusing on Edward’s lying face, and how badly I want to rip it off of his body.
And when the Volturi shows up, when they tell me that Edward is mine to kill if I just join them, I leave. I hunt him down with one of the guards, and I take his body with me to Italy.