Looking around I tried to discern where I was at, finally waking from my stupor. I didn’t even know what continent I was on. All I knew is that I had just awoken with a vengeance and I was ready to do more damage. I followed my scent out of the jungle and back to the water’s edge. I looked out on the water, the moon was gleaming off of it sending reflections onto my face. I looked around trying to figure out where I was at.

I knew that I was on the east coast because of where the sun rose this morning. A wave of pain hit me again as my stomach knotted into several tiny knots. I closed my eyes slowly bringing her face back to me. She smiled warmly. I opened my eyes again and the rage returned when I realized she wasn’t standing in front of me. I took in several large gulps of air, catching my scent on the air. I followed it back to my car. Apparently I ran to South America after parking my car in Mexico.

I opened the driver’s side door and sat down, preparing to turn the key over in the ignition. As I put my hand on the key a delicious smell tingled under my nose. Falling limp in my seat, I realized it was Bella’s scent. It was still lingering in the car, her warm aroma. I made sure all of the windows were securely shut and kept the car off, letting the warmth of the south make her fragrance almost real.

I refused to leave the car, knowing that if I were to open the door or turn the car on that her scent would be swept away with the wind. My anger and rage flooded from my body as I leaned back taking in deep breath after deep breath. I put my head back on the head rest and closed my eyes. Her face swam into view and I took in another breath. The pain was so real in this moment that I felt like I was being filled with boiling water. I felt utterly sick, sick to my core

I pictured our last conversation in my head over and over. “Don’t,” her voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded weakly. “You’re not good for me, Bella.” I lied. I hung my head and my eyes stung with venom, the closest thing I would ever have to tears. Wincing frequently at the memories, I felt a burning desire to just go back. Would she forgive me? I would beg for forgiveness for days, weeks, years, until I died – the wish for this was growing deeper by the second.