A/N: Well, it has been really long since I have been here, and I apologize. Quite a few personal issues got in the way and I haven't found it in me to write. Okay, so here is the final chapter to this story. If it doesn't make sense at the beginning, the italics is Rosalie thinking back to the night she was attacked.

……

"Here's my Rose!" His words from that night came screaming back at me, forever emblazoning themselves on my permanent memory.

The back of my hand made contact with his face and the sickening crunch of multiple bones egged me on.

"You're late. We're cold, you've kept us waiting so long." Crack went his fingers as I crushed them under my foot.

"Isn't she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?" My face twisted into a smile as he flew across the room.

"Show him what you look like, Rose!" My iron like fist plunged into his vulnerable gut and I laughed harshly as the air huffed out of him in a painful gasp.

"That's right, Rosalie. Scream for me." I twisted his arm until his screech reached a pitch that would deafen human ears.

"Don't be like that, Rosalie." My dead heart felt alive as I felt the snap of his leg under my foot.

The wild laughter as I slapped my hand across his face uselessly. I let my hand swing forward to connect with his already broken cheek. He wasn't laughing this time.

The patronizing comments as I struggled to free myself, "Aw, poor Rosalie. Now be a good girl and settle down." I watched him struggle as my iron grip held him a foot above the ground against the wall. "What is it, Royce? Be a good boy and settle down."

"Please, Royce, please! Please don't do this. Please let me go, I beg you." I had pleaded with him and was met with another bout of laughter.

"Rosalie!" He gasped, "I...please...let me..." His words were warped with pain, his face in a grimace.

"What? Let you go?" I slammed him into the wall and he let out a weak whimper, "Have mercy on you? The same way you had mercy on me?"

I swung him around and let him fall back to the floor in a crumpled heap. I had to finish it now. The smell of his weak blood all pumped with fear was going to be too much. If I was going to keep from drinking his blood, his death had to come soon.

I walked over to where he was curled in a fetal position, an agonized moan reaching my sensitive ears.

"Guess I'll have to have to learn a little more patience with the next one."

"Well, Royce, as much fun as I am having with you, I need to be getting back." I placed my hands on the sides of his face and dragged him up to eye level. The gesture of my bone white hands placed on his cheeks could almost have passed as one of love.

"No, please. Please, my Rose." I cringed as his tears ran over my skin, warm with the salty, tantalizing human smell.

"Guess I'll have to learn a little more patience." His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before I jerked my hands violently to one side, the loudest crack of them all resounding off the walls, signifying his death. Finally. I let his lifeless body fall back before crouching down myself, my head in my hands.

Death was not an easy thing, even when the lost life was one you hated passionately. One you had wished death upon while they were alive. Sure, it was easier after you had done it a few times, but this was different. I had shared intimate moments with this man, accepted his gifts, visited his family, worn his ring, expected to marry him, to bear his children, and grow old with him.

And now here he lay, dead. At my feet. His blood on my hands, in the metaphorical sense.

I rose out of my crouch and ran from the room, weaving my way through the havoc I had caused. Within three seconds I was running through the trees again, heading in a direction I wasn't sure of.

A portion of my expansive mind wondered what kind of cruel, sadistic monster I had to be to have committed such horrible acts. But that was only a small part, because the rest of me felt gratified. Justified. Even, if you will. The small piece of the human version of me had needed this. I had needed to see that the future I had yearned for was for sure destroyed. For sure impossible. Forever lost.

Because they would never find Rosalie Hale. My body would never be discovered. I would never be buried. My parents would not be able to kiss me goodbye. There would always be that sense of mystery surrounding my name, at least for the time that my name would even be remembered. Once my name was lost, the memory of my short lived life gone, the pictures of me packed away in some dusty attic before being thrown away, then there would be nothing.

Royce's death in a way replaced mine. There was definitive closure, a defined ending to Rosalie Hale. Now I could leave, and I had left some imprint on the city, for however long the scandal of these disturbing deaths would entertain the citizens.

I pushed myself faster, flexing my muscles until I barely felt the ground underneath me anymore. I threw my head back and a maniacal laugh rang off the empty forest. I hadn't realized where I was going, but now that I looked up, I recognized the back of Vera's quaint little home. I slowed now, not bothering to wonder why my subconscious had brought me to this place. There was happiness in this home, a content that was infectious to all who visited.

I let myself creep up to the shadows closest to the house and peered into one of the lit windows. It was little Henry's room, with the hand-me-down white crib and the blanket that Vera had knitted thrown over the railing. Vera was in there, holding her son and swaying. My hearing picked up the soft, muted humming that was coming from her, soothing her son back to sleep.

My whole body ached as I watched this beautiful moment, this incredible little miracle of a moment that I could only watch from afar. For a second I hated Vera, hated her with all of my power. She probably didn't even cherish this time as much as she should, didn't realize the value of such a precious gift from God!

But I couldn't deceive myself, and my hate ebbed away as quickly as it had come. Because one look at Vera's face, at that adoring and devoted expression, told me that she did cherish this moment for all it was. Maybe she even valued it more than I felt I would have, since she was actually living it.

As soon as she placed the baby gently back in his bed and flicked off the light, I tore out of there. I couldn't bear to watch if she went in to her husband's room and they shared a moment that had been as private as the one between the mother and child. If he touched her face tenderly and kissed her forehead affectionately, or if she smiled shyly at him I think I would have stormed in there and done...I don't know what I would have done, but it wouldn't have been pretty.

How was it fair that mousy Vera, sweet, naive little Vera had gotten everything? How had she achieved happiness in that tiny little hole of a home, with that average looking husband, with that head of thin, dark hair, and with those small green eyes? It wasn't fair at all. I wasn't even sure how she could be happy in those circumstances.

I brushed off the small voice in my head that whispered love into my ear, convincing myself that it wasn't all about love. Sure, having love would help, but didn't you need more?

I was home much sooner than I had anticipated, but there was no where else to go and my self control was already strained to a breaking point. Instead of charging in the way I usually did, I let myself in quietly. It really didn't matter, they would know I was home either way.

Esme was home, and she was waiting there for me, brow furrowed, hands anxiously clenching and unclenching. When she saw me, she jumped up and was at my side instantly.

"Oh, my poor girl." Was all she whispered before tugging my reluctant body into a tight embrace.

How sweet she was, to already love me like a daughter after only a few weeks. The insanely vain part of me asked 'what isn't there to love?', but I placed my hands gently on her back. I saw Carlisle over her shoulder, making himself look busy. Edward was nowhere to be seen.

As soon as she released me, I looked down at myself. The wedding dress was not the spectacular spectacle it had been before my little trip. The branches had caught it at various places and ripped right through and there was hardly anything of the lace left. I had ditched the veil once half of it had been ripped off.

"It's over." Was all I said, before realizing that everything was packed up. Only a couple couches were left in the living area and a few boxes remained in the hallway.

I was grateful that we were leaving that night, and watched as Edward pulled the car around to load up what was left of the belongings. Esme helped me into some more practical clothes and we all got into the car. Before I knew it, we were speeding off from my family, my home, my dreams, my life.

Leaving my kingdom behind.