A/N: I'm back! Sorry it's been forever but I will never give up on this story no matter how hard it is to write. Just know that I think of it often but actually writing is the tricky part. Thank you all so much for favoring and reviewing this story so far, I really appreciate the support. I love reading all the reviews and though I don't reply know that I see and love them all. I saw one particular reviewer made a FanFic account for the sole purpose of reviewing! How cool is that?! Thanks so much I hope you all enjoy this chapter...

*However I feel I should put a disclaimer in here, this chapter gets pretty dark I know we have seen violence in this story before but this chapter briefly touches on suicide. I won't say more than that so as not to spoil it but if suicide and violence are triggers for you just be aware they are present in this chapter. Also Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight, I'm just borrowing it.

"Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win." - Stephen King

Chapter 7: Don't.

After several hours I was able to pull myself together and get dressed again, I then made my way into town and stole a fresh set of clothes. I picked up a plain black t-shirt that I paired with black leggings. I kept Esme's sneakers purely for the convenience but as I went to dispose of the clothes I had been wearing I found myself reluctant to get rid of Edward's jacket so I washed it the best I could in the stream and hung it out to dry. Later, I resigned myself to just wrap it around my waist.

I was careful to stay away from the humans, I didn't want to think about hunting right now. So I headed back to the stream I had found previously and sat uncomfortably alone.

I lay in the grass by the stream and just listened to the sounds of the world around me. I wondered what James' next move would be, if I had stayed with him surely he would have me training newborns as he had mentioned. I wonder if he handed that task off to Victoria, or perhaps her task was to spy on the Cullen's?

Yes, that had to be it. She would only have gone to them under his orders, the question of how she found out about Alaska remains unanswered.

But, it's not my problem anymore. The Cullen's are more than capable enough to handle their situation, immersing myself in another coven's problems was a recipe for disaster. I owe them nothing, my guilt is not warranted and will fade in time.

My decision to stay away is the wisest one I've made since encountering them but I cannot get them out of my mind.

It was Edward who poisoned my thoughts. I couldn't function correctly, I couldn't look at a human without feeling like an incorrigible menace. It seemed that my entire world was being flipped on its head, hunting humans is bad? It was like meeting these Cullen's had irrevocably changed my perspective.

Isn't in my nature, though? Isn't hunting humans just the reality of the food chain?

Why should their life mean more than mine? Or is the question why should my life cost theirs? If it's possible to exist without feeding on humans, isn't it worth a try? Maybe that would extinguish the horrible guilt sitting in the pit of my stomach? Could I possibly live another way, peacefully amongst humans? This goes against everything I've ever known to be true.

I wouldn't know the first thing about hunting animals. The Cullens' would, but hadn't I decided to never see them again? It had been almost two full days since I'd left, could I just go back?

I picked myself up from my miserable stupor and decided to walk. Laying here and pondering my mistakes would do me no good. I didn't want to feel the pangs or wrongdoing that were hitting me with the presence of humans, however I found myself drawn into the city again. The itch in my throat rose as their pounding heartbeats grew nearer. I wandered outside an apartment complex, it was nighttime so most of the occupants were sleeping soundly. There was a chorus of soft thumping hearts, I wondered if I had ever slept so soundly. Probably not, my human life was an unmitigated disaster.

I made my way to the roof of the building and just sat there listening. A baby cried and his mother shuffled over to him and soothed him in her arms, an entire family rested peacefully through the night, a dog howled and woke its neighbors. Everything about this scene was so human and normal.

This made me reflect on my own human life, it was a hazy and distant nightmare. I lived in a drab apartment more run down than this one, smaller and older, it wasn't much but it was at least a roof over my head.

My father was an alcoholic and an abusive drunk, my mother died from complications of childbirth so I never knew her. I spent every waking minute evading my father's drunken violence and living in fear. In the summer of 1959 and on the morning of my 18th birthday I stole my father's wallet and my neighbor's Volkswagen and ran off. In the hopes of escaping my hellish reality I drove from Phoenix, Arizona to Denver, Colorado alone but by the time I got to Denver I had run out of money and gas, in my desperation, I decided to hitchhike. However, I was unable to catch a ride with anyone because I was attacked by my creator.

His name was Xavier, it was not his intention to create me but he was interrupted by a second inexperienced vampire who had unwisely attempted to steal Xavier's meal. I was bitten and Xavier killed the other vampire, but by the time he had taken care of my second attacker I was too far along in my transition and thus I became a vampire. When the fire subsided I awoke in an abandoned warehouse, his dark hair, pale skin, and red eyes startled me. My sudden enhanced features and abilities were alarming. I discovered my gift that day, when Xavier approached me to speak I put my hands up in defense and a white light exploded around me.

It was amazing, Xavier explained to me that I was gifted far beyond anyone he'd ever seen but that I had to be careful still. This world was ruled by Vampire royalty that resides in Italy, he explained to me what I had become and why. He also told me discretion was key and that the Volturi likes to make an example out of troublemakers.

He apologized for turning me,

"It was not my wish to place this burden on you." He had said, "but as your sire, it's my responsibility to inform you of all this."

So he did, and then went on to explain that he was a lone vampire. He had done his part and now he must go, he wished me luck and left. I never saw him again.

I was angry and scared for a long time. I found comfort in exploring my gift and learned to expand it and use it as a defense. After several decades of following in Xavier's footsteps as a single nomad, James found me and now I'm here.

Alone again, perhaps this is for the best. The Cullen's don't need me to stop James. They'll be fine, they have Edward and Alice. Their gifts will prove useful and without me to block James I'm confident they can handle him.

Jasper and Rosalie clearly didn't want me there, the rest of them tolerated me for the few hours I was there and I managed to anger their wolf neighbors. Edward seemed different than the others somehow but the pull I felt towards him was distracting and disorienting. To put some space between all this was for the best.

The weeks following my departure from the Cullen's was an eventful one, media outlets were beginning to report strange deaths, rises in crime, and overall fear. It would seem James was doing what he promised and wasn't doing a good job at keeping quiet. It wasn't difficult to keep up with the news, from what I could tell James followed them to Alaska.

I wondered about all this as I stared at the newest headline ANCHORAGE UNDER ATTACK- KILLERS ON THE LOOSE. I sighed, maybe this is a good thing, maybe The Volturi will take care of him now that he has made such a spectacle in such a short span of time.

Things must be really bad if I was getting the news in British Columbia. I tried to push that out of my mind, I was back in the city for one reason and that was to hunt. The burn in my throat had become unbearable in the three weeks it'd been since my last hunt. I had never been so torn about whether or not to feed, it has always been a must, no questions about it.

However, lately I find myself dealing with a heavy sense of foreboding. The dread and anxiety of today nearly kept me hiding in the woods; but of course the thirst wins, it always wins.

I waited for the dead of night in the hopes that all the decent humans were asleep in their homes before I set out to hunt.

As I wandered about the city, memories of my last hunt floated around in my mind the faces of the last humans I killed were a persistent weight on my neck. I figured that in time my guilt would lessen and hunting could go back to being strictly about survival. It's not like I terrorize my prey like I know so many of my kind do, namely James and Victoria.

I set off in the search of the perfect hunt, I wouldn't let my negative thoughts prohibit me from doing what needs to be done. It was well past midnight when I found myself in the middle of the city, hiding in the shadows of a tall building, simply waiting. Several humans walked by in the hour that I stood there frozen and I amused myself with the idea of how very closely each of these people came to their deaths simply by walking near me.

However, none of the people were right today. In all my years this had never happened to me, with each passing moment and indeed human, I grew thirstier but so did my reluctance to feed. I became annoyed with myself and my current predicament so I decided to wander deeper into the city. In the past just about any human would do but now a tiny voice in my head forbad me from getting near any of the humans that passed me. Time moved slower, I found a new spot to hide at the top of a concrete building each heartbeat seemed to call my name but my butt remained glued to the floor. The voice in my head was stronger now, it wouldn't even allow me to look at the humans.

"Don't do it." she whispered. It was a voice that was achingly similar to my own, it seemed the price to pay for not feeding was insanity.

The people that were out were few and far between now as it neared day break and I remained unmoving. The voice in my head reprimanded me for attempting to hunt in this city.

"Where should I hunt then?" I thought to myself.

"You know where." The Whisper echoed in my brain. I shut my eyes and exhaled, I didn't want to consider that possibility.

I haven't hunted in three weeks, the thirst is making me lose my head. I need to hunt but my newfound Jiminy Cricket would rather have me starve and I needed to get to a hiding place before the sun comes up.

Finally I stood from my spot on the floor and jumped down. In the distance I heard the slam of a car door but more potently the smell of spilled blood. My legs carried me there without my consent and I spotted him. I stood across the way from him, he wasn't terribly tall but his stocky frame made him appear bigger than he was he had short buzzed hair and thin brown eyes. His car windows had been smashed, perhaps a break in? He cursed under his breath as he cradled his left arm which had presumably been cut by a jagged shard of glass from his window.

"Don't." The Voice was stronger now, and I paused. I could turn around, I could leave. I turned on my heels ready to run in the other direction until a slight wind rustled the trees and wafted his scent to me. The voice screamed but it was too late. I was upon him, his scent was thick in the air and I reveled in it the taste of his blood as it soothed all my problems and the voice evaporated. All other thoughts left my brain, I couldn't be bothered by newfound morals or thoughts of James and the Cullen's it was just blood. After those weeks of abstaining the fire in my throat vanished as I drank what could only be described as liquid gold. There was no fear, no regret or pain, only bliss. I savored every second and when I was finished I relinquished my hold causing his lifeless body to crumble onto the floor.

Instantly I was aware of two big brown eyes watching from this man's driveway. So, she too, would become my prey. She had a second to look to the floor to see the man I had killed then lock eyes with her crimson eyed killer before I drained her as well. Her body hit the floor with an unceremonious thud and it was then that I noticed the prominent swell of her belly. She was pregnant, I realized with a pang probably still in her first trimester. She wore a simple silver band on her left ring finger and I noticed the man wore a matching ring on his finger as well.

"What have you done?"

My breath got caught in my throat as I took in the aftermath of my hunt. A pregnant woman coming outside to check on her husband only to find him murdered by the same Vampire that would deliver her the same fate as her beloved. I began to take in very quick and shallow breaths as I stared at the scene around me.

I pushed away my emotions, not wanting to panic, the sun was coming up soon and I needed to clean up my mess. I listened for a heartbeat inside the house, there was none. Gingerly I picked up the woman in my arms and made my way inside her home, I located their bedroom easily enough and I placed her in her bed and went to retrieve her husband and placed him beside her. I covered them up with their thick quilt and if I hadn't been the one to place them there I might think they were sleeping.

A heaviness dragged in my chest as I positioned them, knowing what I would have to do next. I searched in the attic in vain but I was lucky when I hit the garage and found two unopened gallons of gasoline. I poured a trail of gasoline through the house but focused heavily on the bedroom and on the couple's bodies. The trail led to the kitchen where I would lite it using the stove.

Just then an idea popped into my brain. A crazy wonderful idea, I shook the gallon to measure how much gasoline was left, it was very little but perhaps enough to light myself on fire?

I stood frozen at the thought, my guilt weighed me down like a ton of bricks. Would that even work, would I die? I imagined myself burning alone in the house of my last victims, it was almost poetic. Why was my life worth more than theirs? It would hurt, of that I was certain but would it be more than the pain of my lawless, murderous existence… hard to say. Just as I was about to tip the remainder of the gasoline over my head, my hand froze when I heard it again,

"Don't." The voice was back. I shut my eyes and inhaled, I set the gallon down on the counter. I can't it's too terrible, not to mention the last time I disobeyed the voice I got caught up in this mess. In an instant and without warning, my body was overcome by unrelenting sobs. I wept but the tears would never come. My body inexplicably shook as I turned the stove on high and jumped out the window.

It was morning now and the house went up in flames. I couldn't stand to watch as the sobs overtook my entire person. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me until I was out of the city and fell to the forest floor once again, unable to get a hold of my emotions.

So I ran, headed straight for Alaska.

Woah, That was super heavy. Sorry about that. Maybe you can tell me what you thought in a review?