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·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
THE PLEA THAT SLIPPED from her lips was filled with desperation, conveying nothing but the deepest regret as she apologized. Rosalie craned her neck skyward, trying to find light through the darkness that enveloped everything.
"I'm sorry," she nearly sobbed, and yet the tears remained at bay. The brunette wasn't even sure where she was, just that she felt a profound need to apologize. "Please. I never meant for this to happen. You know that."
The brunette sank to her knees, as though the grief and regret was literally weighing her down. At least, that's what it felt like. Her bones were heavy with what was unsaid, apologies flowing through her veins.
"We grew up together," she whispered, a quiet declaration. "I have no reason to do what I did, but I regret it every day."
Did that change anything?
No.
"It was my fault, I know that."
What good were a few words when there was no going back?
What was I'm sorry going to accomplish?
"My fault..." Rosalie gulped.
Thief.
Traitor.
Murderer.
This time the tears fell as memories from that night flashed through her mind. Rosalie exhaled, her voice shaking, "Please, I never meant for either of you to die."
Her fingers trembled, curling into fists at her lap. With eyes screwed shut, she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Elena."
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
Her eyes snapped open, only to be met with a dim atmosphere. The chill bit at her skin, overwhelming her senses as she wildly looked around to get an idea of her location.
Rosalie took a hesitant step, the concrete scraping at her bare feet. There were some walls and structures all around, catching her eye. She neared one, realizing that she knew what the buildings were, and she knew exactly where she was.
Lafayette Cemetery was more daunting in the night, and though surrounded by the dead, she didn't feel the slightest shred of fear or anxiety.
Rosalie's hand left the cool surface of the headstone, feeling strangely hollow in doing so. She frowned, thinking of how she ended up in a cemetery in the middle of the night.
She thought her days of sleepwalking were over. What a pity that it wasn't. Rosalie certainly didn't miss waking up in strange places.
After mindlessly walking past graves and tombs, the Monet eventually found herself in the middle of a little clearing. There were carved statues on the graves around her, each in different poses. Some were praying to the sky, some had arms open wide, and some were simply standing over the dead.
