Inspired by Rosalie Hale's story in Eclipse, it's how I imagined the setting and how she would re live those sad memories- so i also included a ghost rosalie in the background
model by [link]
(can't remember where the background is from) :/
7. Unhappy Ending
Rosalie hesitated in the doorway, her breathtaking face unsure.
"Of course," I replied, my voice an octave high with surprise. "Come on in."
I sat up, sliding to one end of the sofa to make room. My stomach twisted nervously as the one Cullen who did not like me moved silently to sit down in the open space. I tried to come up with a reason to why she would want to see me, but my mind was a blank on that point.
"Do you mind talking to me for a few minutes?" she asked. "I didn't wake you or anything, did I ?" Her eyes shifted to the stripped bed and back to my couch.
"No, I was awake. Sure, we can talk." I wondered if she could hear the alarm in my voice as clearly as I could.
She laughed lightly, and it sounded like a chorus of bells. "He so rarely leaves you alone," she said. "I figured I'd better make the best of this opportunity."
What did she want to say that couldn't be said in front of Edward? My hands twisted and untwisted around the edge of the comforter.
"Please don't think I'm horribly interfering," Rosalie said, her voice gentle and almost pleading. She folded her hands in ther lap and looked down at them as she spoke. "I'm sure I've hurt your feelings enough in the past, and I don't want to do that again."
"Don't worry about it Rosalie. My feelings are great. What is it?"
She laughed again, sounding oddly embarassed. "I'm going to try to tell you why I think you should stay human- why I would stay human if I were you."
She smiled at the shocked tone of my voice, and then she sighed.
"Did Edward ever tell you what led to this?" she asked, gesturing to her glorious immortal body.
I nodded slowly, suddenly somber. "He said it was close to what happened to me that time in Port Angeles, only no on ewas there to save you." I shuddered at the memory.
"Is that really all he told you?" she asked.
Yes, I said, my voice blank with confusion. Was there more?
She looked up at me and smiled; it was a harsh, bitter but still stunning
Yes, she said. There was more.
I waited while she stared out the window. She seemed to be trying to calm
Would you like to hear my story, Bella? It doesnt have a happy ending
but which of ours does? If we had happy endings, wed all be under
I nodded, though I was frightened by the edge in her voice.
I lived in a different world than you do, Bella. My human world was a
much simpler place. It was nineteen thirty-three. I was eighteen, and I was
beautiful. My life was perfect.
She stared out the window at the silver clouds, her expression far away.
My parents were thoroughly middle class. My father had a stable job in a
bank, something I realize now that he was smug about he saw his
prosperity as a reward for talent and hard work, rather than acknowledging
the luck involved. I took it all for granted then; in my home, it was as if the
Great Depression was only a troublesome rumor. Of course I saw the poor
people, the ones who werent as lucky. My father left me with the
impression that theyd brought their troubles on themselves.
It was my mothers job to keep our house and myself and my two
younger brothers in spotless order. It was clear that I was both her first
priority and her favorite. I didnt fully understand at the time, but I was
always vaguely aware that my parents werent satisfied with what they had,
even if it was so much more than most. They wanted more. They had social
aspirations social climbers, I suppose you could call them. My beauty
was like a gift to them. They saw so much more potential in it than I did.
They werent satisfied, but I was. I was thrilled to be me, to be Rosalie
Hale. Pleased that mens eyes watched me everywhere I went, from the year
I turned twelve. Delighted that my girlfriends sighed with envy when they
touched my hair. Happy that my mother was proud of me and that my father
liked to buy me pretty dresses.
I knew what I wanted out of life, and there didnt seem to be any way that I
wouldnt get exactly what I wanted. I wanted to be loved, to be adored. I
wanted to have a huge, flowery wedding, where everyone in town would
watch me walk down the aisle on my fathers arm and think I was the most
beautiful thing theyd ever seen. Admiration was like air to me, Bella. I was
silly and shallow, but I was content. She smiled, amused at her own
My parents influence had been such that I also wanted the material things
of life. I wanted a big house with elegant furnishings that someone else
would clean and a modern kitchen that someone else would cook in. As I
said, shallow. Young and very shallow. And I didnt see any reason why I
wouldnt get these things.
There were a few things I wanted that were more meaningful. One thing in
particular. My very closest friend was a girl named Vera. She married
young, just seventeen. She married a man my parents would never have
considered for me a carpenter. A year later she had a son, a beautiful little
boy with dimples and curly black hair. It was the first time Id ever felt truly
jealous of anyone else in my entire life.
She looked at me with unfathomable eyes. It was a different time. I was the
same age as you, but I was ready for it all. I yearned for my own little baby.
I wanted my own house and a husband who would kiss me when he got
home from work just like Vera. Only I had a very different kind of house
in mind. . . .
It was hard for me to imagine the world that Rosalie had known. Her story
sounded more like a fairy tale than history to me. With a slight shock, I
realized that this was very close to the world that Edward would have
experienced when he was human, the world he had grown up in. I wondered
while Rosalie sat silent for a moment if my world seemed as baffling
to him as Rosalies did to me?
Rosalie sighed, and when she spoke again her voice was different, the
In Rochester, there was one royal family the Kings, ironically enough.
Royce King owned the bank my father worked at, and nearly every other
really profitable business in town. Thats how his son, Royce King the
Second her mouth twisted around the name, it came out through her
teeth saw me the first time. He was going to take over at the bank, and so he began overseeing the different positions. Two days later, my mother
conveniently forgot to send my fathers lunch to work with him. I remember
being confused when she insisted that I wear my white organza and roll my
hair up just to run over to the bank. Rosalie laughed without humor.
I didnt notice Royce watching me particularly. Everyone watched me. But
that night the first of the roses came. Every night of our courtship, he sent a
bouquet of roses to me. My room was always overflowing with them. It got
to the point that I would smell like roses when I left the house.
Royce was handsome, too. He had lighter hair than I did, and pale blue
eyes. He said my eyes were like violets, and then those started showing up
alongside the roses.
My parents approved thats putting it mildly. This was everything theyd
dreamed of. And Royce seemed to be everything Id dreamed of. The fairy
tale prince, come to make me a princess. Everything I wanted, yet it was still
no more than I expected. We were engaged before Id known him for two
We didnt spend a great deal of time alone with each other. Royce told me
he had many responsibilities at work, and, when we were together, he liked
people to look at us, to see me on his arm. I liked that, too. There were lots
of parties, dancing, and pretty dresses. When you were a King, every door
was open for you, every red carpet rolled out to greet you.
It wasnt a long engagement. Plans went ahead for the most lavish
wedding. It was going to be everything Id ever wanted. I was completely
happy. When I called at Veras, I no longer felt jealous. I pictured my fair haired children playing on the huge lawns of the Kings estate, and I pitied
Rosalie broke off suddenly, clenching her teeth together. It pulled me out of
her story, and I realized that the horror was not far off. There would be no
happy ending, as shed promised. I wondered if this was why she had so
much more bitterness in her than the rest of them because shed been
within reach of everything shed wanted when her human life was cut short.
I was at Veras that night, Rosalie whispered. Her face was smooth as
marble, and as hard. Her little Henry really was adorable, all smiles and
dimples he was just sitting up on his own. Vera walked me to the door as
I was leaving, her baby in her arms and her husband at her side, his arm
around her waist. He kissed her on the cheek when he thought I wasnt
looking. That bothered me. When Royce kissed me, it wasnt quite the same
not so sweet somehow. . . . I shoved that thought aside. Royce was my
prince. Someday, I would be queen.
It was hard to tell in the moonlight, but it looked like her bone white face got
It was dark in the streets, the lamps already on. I hadnt realized how late it
was. She continued to whisper almost inaudibly. It was cold, too. Very
cold for late April. The wedding was only a week away, and I was worrying
about the weather as I hurried home I can remember that clearly. I
remember every detail about that night. I clung to it so hard . . . in the
beginning. I thought of nothing else. And so I remember this...