Would You Please Tell Me

Um, Bella? You've Got A Huge Cut On Your Forehead, And It's Gushing Blood," He Informed Me. I Clapped My Hand Over My Head. Sure Enough, It Was Wet And Sticky. I Could Smell Nothing But The Damp Moss On My Face, And That Held Off The Nausea. Oh, I'm So Sorry, Jacob." I Pushed Hard Against The Gash, As If I Could Force The Blood Back Inside My Head. Why Are You Apologizing For Bleeding?" He Wondered As He Wrapped A Long Arm Around My Waist And And Pulled Me To My Feet.

And The Smile I'd Been Waiting For Stretched Across His Face Like The Sun Breaking Free Of The Clouds.

Um," Doc Said In A Mild Voice, "medically Speaking, I'm Not Sure That Was The Most Helpful Thing For His Condition." "but I Feel Better," Jared Answered, Sullen. Doc Smiled The Tiniest Smile. "well, Maybe A Few More Minutes Of Unconsciousness Won't Kill Him.

He Was Giving Up On Keeping Me Alive, Letting Nature–or Rather Mob Justice–take Its Course. When He Returned, And I Was Dead, He Wouldn't Hold Anyone Responsible. He Would Not Mourn. All This I Could Hear In Those Three Words.

You Could Run From Someone You Feared, You Could Try To Fight Someone You Hated. All My Reactions Were Geared Toward Those Kinds Of Killers – The Monsters, The Enemies. When You Loved The One Who Was Killing You, It Left You No Options. How Could You Run, How Could You Fight, When Doing So Would Hurt That Beloved One? If Your Life Was All You Had To Give Your Beloved, How Could You Not Give It? If It Was Someone You Truly Loved?