Bram Stoker. Anne Rice. Before I made my unforgettable move to Forks, Washington, their vampires is how I imagined a vampire to be. They weren't real anyway, right? So I didn't have to contemplate on what is or what isn't real. Until I saw a pale group of students sitting in the Forks High cafeteria. I didn't know I'd love him, or that I'd adapt to his family and lifestyle so quickly - or that I would risk my life and the ones I love lives by being chased by James, a tracker vampire.
I didn't know Edward and his family would leave me on my eighteenth birthday because of Jasper's mistake. Making me weaker than what I was before. Victoria chased me, Jacob - my new-found best friend turned werewolf - and the other wolves chased Victoria, while Charlie chased them. I was alone. I didn't know I'd be racing to Italy with Alice beside me, risking yet again my life, and Charlie's sanity. I saved him. But, of course, I didn't give myself the deserved credit. I decided to become a vampire, too.
I didn't know that Victoria was creating an army thirsty for my destruction. A newborn army. Everything up to the fight is all I clearly remember. I remember the kiss with Jacob, and I remember feeling that I didn't have to be in danger after this, as long as I chose wisely. Edward was what I wanted, but Jacob is what I needed. So I chose the better choice, not just for me, but for everyone else in my life I have either hurt or betrayed by choosing Edward. Suddenly refusing Charlie after Edward entered in my life, craving a death that would give me life, forgetting my friends when Edward left.
If he had just been gone longer - if Alice had never returned with Edward's suicide attempt! I would have been normal. I would have been whole. I would have felt human, not weak and needy upon the living dead. Victoria would have died, and I would have never faced more danger if I didn't stupidly run to save someone who couldn't be saved. Someone whose life I was desperate to save, someone who was already dead. He was dead when I met him. I would die, too, if he didn't change me. But Jacob . . . he was alive and breathing, he had a heartbeat. He was warm with life, while Edward was cold with death.
A human girl needs life with someone who is actually living. Not life with someone who would never die . . . .