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THERE ARE SOME FATES WORSE THAN DEATH.
Anyone who has been kidnapped from their home by a delusional vampire would say so. She would. She didn't have a home anymore, he made sure that she wouldn't remember the world that she came from. Only the world that he created was able to exist. That was the way of things.
Not anymore.
The fact that he set her free was the best blessing that the young woman could have asked for. She'd prayed, and prayed, and prayed again for nights on end, hoping that what had happened that night would happen. She was free, damn it. She was free and nobody else could hurt her ever again.
Things were blurry when the venom hit her veins, but it didn't hurt any more than the blows on her back or wrists did. The same level of pain, but in different places. This time it was her heart, which beat so fast she thought it would explode. Instead of her wrists burning with blue bruises, her wrist was adorned with a bite that screamed freedom.
She wanted this more than anything. This bite was what made her better, allowed her to survive. She never would have made it as a human, she thought, and she would have died in his care. The second the kind man bit into her wrist, she was freed, removed from those pesky, awful thoughts that told her that she was worthless.
He was a liar, she wasn't worthless. Or useless.
The kind doctor decided that he would turn her, he asked her if she wanted that. Nobody would ask a useless person their opinion on a life changing bite. If she were useless, that idea wouldn't go through his head.
She hadn't been around someone kind for a long time. She didn't realize how long she'd been ruined until she looked into the mirror to find her hair braided, her skin now healed. The reflection she saw in her water bowls did not compare to the beauty she saw in the mirror now.
Beautiful. She was obsessed with her appearance as a vampire. For so long she'd been told that she wasn't as pretty, was too skinny in her arms and legs to be able to be useful for him. Yet when she saw herself as a vampire she realized she'd just been starved and beaten to look ugly. She was beautiful as a vampire. She was a vampire, a beautiful one.
No obsession had quite hit her like this one did. She stared at her appearance for literal hours as she heard people talking downstairs. She could have heard every word they said, but she didn't care for it.
She was beautiful and free. That was all that mattered to her.
Well, it was all that mattered until she was called downstairs, by no name other than dear. She didn't have a name, she remembered that. He made her forget. That remembrance brought it all back, and she soon remembered that she couldn't cry. The tears welled up in her eyes, but they never rolled down her face. They burned, made of pure venom.
It made her feel disgusting all over again.
Rosalie was the one to come upstairs, having understood her in ways that nobody else could. They were both broken on some fundamental level, so scared of being ugly just because someone made them feel that way. A man, to be exact.
