Life Sucks, And Then You Die.

I Felt Like - Like I Don't Know What. Like This Wasn't Real. Like I Was In Some Goth Version Of A Bad Sitcom. Instead Of Being The A/v Dweeb About To Ask The Head Cheerleader To The Prom, I Was The Finished-second-place Werewolf About To Ask The Vampire's Wife To Shack Up And Procreate. Nice. - Jacob

He Didn't Ask What I Was Thinking, Which Was Out Of Character For Him. I Guessed That Meant That He Was Just As Nervous As I Suddenly Was.

I Kept Pushing Against The Black, Though, Almost A Reflex. I Wasn't Trying To Lift It. I Was Just Resisting. Not Allowing It To Crush Me Completely. I Wasn't Atlas, And The Black Felt As Heavy As A Planet; I Couldn't Shoulder It. All I Could Do Was Not Be Entirely Obliterated.

I Knew I Was Too Late—and I Was Glad Something Bloodthirsty Waited In The Wings. For In Failing At This, I Forfeited Any Desire To Live.

What Am I Going To Do With You? Yesterday I Kiss You, And You Attack Me! Today You Pass Out On Me!