4 breaking dawn破晓-第66部分

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As　my　eyes　struggled　to　adjust；　Edward　whispered；　〃Renesmee。〃　

Renesmee？　

Not　the　pale　and　perfect　son　of　my　imagination？　I　felt　a　moment　of　shock。　And　then　a　flood　of　warmth。　




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Renesmee。　

I　willed　my　lips　to　move；　willed　the　bubbles　of　air　to　turn　into　whispers　on　my　tongue。　I　forced　my　numb　
hands　to　reach。　

〃Let　me。。。　Give　her　to　me。〃　

The　light　danced；　shattering　off　Edward's　crystal　hands。　The　sparkles　were　tinged　with　red；　with　the　
blood　that　covered　his　skin。　And　more　red　in　his　hands。　Something　small　and　struggling；　dripping　with　
blood。　He　touched　the　warm　body　to　my　weak　arms；　almost　like　I　was　holding　her。　Her　wet　skin　was　hot　
—as　hot　as　Jacob's。　

My　eyes　focused；　suddenly　everything　was　absolutely　clear。　

Renesmee　did　not　cry；　but　she　breathed　in　quick；　startled　pants。　Her　eyes　were　open；　her　expression　so　
shocked　it　was　almost　funny。　The　little；　perfectly　round　head　was　covered　in　a　thick　layer　of　matted；　
bloody　curls。　Her　

irises　were　a　familiar—but　astonishing—chocolate　brown。　Under　the　blood；　her　skin　looked　pale；　a　
creamy　ivory。　All　besides　her　cheeks；　which　flamed　with　color。　

Her　tiny　face　was　so　absolutely　perfect　that　it　stunned　me。　She　was　even　more　beautiful　than　her　father。　
Unbelievable。　Impossible。　

〃Renesmee；〃　I　whispered。　〃So。。。　beautiful。〃　

The　impossible　face　suddenly　smiled—a　wide；　deliberate　smile。　Behind　the　shellpink　lips　was　a　full　
plement　of　snowy　milk　teeth。　

She　leaned　her　head　down；　against　my　chest；　burrowing　against　the　warmth。　Her　skin　was　warm　and　
silky；　but　it　didn't　give　the　way　mine　did。　

Then　there　was　pain　again—just　one　warm　slash　of　it。　I　gasped。　

And　she　was　gone。　My　angelfaced　baby　was　nowhere。　I　couldn't　see　or　feel　her。　

No！I　wanted　to　shout。　Give　her　back　to　me！　

But　the　weakness　was　too　much。　My　arms　felt　like　empty　rubber　hoses　for　a　moment；　and　then　they　felt　
like　nothing　at　all。　I　couldn't　feel　them。　I　couldn't　feel　me。　

The　blackness　rushed　over　my　eyes　more　solidly　than　before。　Like　a　thick　blindfold；　firm　and　fast。　
Covering　not　just　my　eyes　but　also　my　self　with　a　crushing　weight。　It　was　exhausting　to　push　against　it。　I　
knew　it　would　be　so　much　easier　to　give　in。　To　let　the　blackness　push　me　down；　down；　down　to　a　place　
where　there　was　no　pain　and　no　weariness　and　no　worry　and　no　fear。　

If　it　had　only　been　for　myself；　I　wouldn't　have　been　able　to　struggle　very　long。　I　was　only　human；　with　no　
more　than　human　strength。　I'd　been　trying　to　keep　up　with　the　supernatural　for　too　long；　like　Jacob　had　
said。　

But　this　wasn't　just　about　me。　



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If　I　did　the　easy　thing　now；　let　the　black　nothingness　erase　me；　I　would　hurt　them。　

Edward。　Edward。　My　life　and　his　were　twisted　into　a　single　strand。　Cut　one；　and　you　cut　both。　If　he　
were　gone；　I　would　not　be　able　to　live　through　that。　If　I　were　gone；　he　wouldn't　live　through　it；　either。　
And　a　world　without　Edward　seemed　pletely　pointless。　Edward　had　to　exist。　

Jacob—who'd　said　goodbye　to　me　over　and　over　but　kept　ing　back　when　I　needed　him。　Jacob；　
who　I'd　wounded　so　many　times　it　was　criminal。　Would　I　hurt　him　again；　the　worst　way　yet？　He'd　stayed　
for　me；　despite　everything。　Now　all　he　asked　was　that　I　stay　for　him。　

But　it　was　so　dark　here　that　I　couldn't　see　either　of　their　faces。　Nothing　seemed　real。　That　made　it　hard　
not　to　give　up。　

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　pletely。　I　wasn't　Atlas；　and　the　black　felt　as　heavy　as　a　pla；　I　couldn't　
shoulder　it。　All　I　could　do　was　not　be　entirely　obliterated。　

It　was　sort　of　the　pattern　to　my　life—I'd　never　been　strong　enough　to　deal　with　the　things　outside　my　
control；　to　attack　the　enemies　or　outrun　them。　To　avoid　the　pain。　Always　human　and　weak；　the　only　thing　
I'd　ever　been　able　to　

do　was　keep　going。　Endure。　Survive。　

It　had　been　enough　up　to　this　point。　It　would　have　to　be　enough　today。　I　would　endure　this　until　help　
came。　

I　knew　Edward　would　be　doing　everything　he　could。　He　would　not　give　up。　Neither　would　I。　

I　held　the　blackness　of　nonexistence　at　bay　by　inches。　

It　wasn't　enough；　though—that　determination。　As　the　time　ground　on　and　on　and　the　darkness　gained　by　
tiny　eighths　and　sixteenths　of　my　inches；　I　needed　something　more　to　draw　strength　from。　

I　couldn't　pull　even　Edward's　face　into　view。　Not　Jacob's；　not　Alice's　or　Rosalie's　or　Charlie's　or　
Renee's　or　Carlisle's　or　Esme's。。。　Nothing。　It　terrified　me；　and　I　wondered　if　it　was　too　late。　

I　felt　myself　slipping—there　was　nothing　to　hold　on　to。　

No！I　had　to　survive　this。　Edward　was　depending　on　me。　Jacob。　Charlie　Alice　Rosalie　Carlisle　Renee　
Esme。。。　

Renesmee。　

And　then；　though　I　still　couldn't　see　anything；　suddenly　I　could　feel　something。　Like　phantom　limbs；　I　
imagined　I　could　feel　my　arms　again。　And　in　them；　something　small　and　hard　and　very；　very　warm。　

My　baby。　My　little　nudger。　

I　had　done　it。　Against　the　odds；　I　had　been　strong　enough　to　survive　Renesmee；　to　hold　on　to　her　until　
she　was　strong　enough　to　live　without　me。　



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That　spot　of　heat　in　my　phantom　arms　felt　so　real。　I　clutched　it　closer。　It　was　exactly　where　my　heart　
should　be。　Holding　tight　the　warm　memory　of　my　daughter；　I　knew　that　I　would　be　able　to　fight　the　
darkness　as　long　as　I　needed　to。　

The　warmth　beside　my　heart　got　more　and　more　real；　warmer　and　warmer。　Hotter。　The　heat　was　so　real　
it　was　hard　to　believe　that　I　was　imagining　it。　

Hotter。　

Unfortable　now。　Too　hot。　Much；　much　too　hot。　

Like　grabbing　the　wrong　end　of　a　curling　iron—my　automatic　response　was　to　drop　the　scorching　thing　
in　my　arms。　But　there　was　nothing　in　my　arms。　My　arms　were　not　curled　to　my　chest。　My　arms　were　
dead　things　lying　somewhere　at　my　side。　The　heat　was　inside　me。　

The　burning　grew—rose　and　peaked　and　rose　again　until　it　surpassed　anything　I'd　ever　felt。　

I　felt　the　pulse　behind　the　fire　raging　now　in　my　chest　and　realized　that　I'd　found　my　heart　again；　just　in　
time　to　wish　I　never　had。　To　wish　that　I'd　embraced　the　blackness　while　I'd　still　had　the　chance。　I　wanted　
to　raise　my　arms　and　claw　my　chest　open　and　rip　the　heart　from　it—anything　to　get　rid　of　this　torture。　But　
I　couldn't　feel　my　arms；　couldn't　move　one　vanished　finger。　

James；　snapping　my　leg　under　his　foot。　That　was　nothing。　That　was　a　soft　place　to　rest　on　a　feather　bed。　
I'd　take　that　now；　a　hundred　times。　A　hundred　snaps。　I'd　take　it　and　be　grateful。　

The　baby；　kicking　my　ribs　apart；　breaking　her　way　through　me　piece　by　piece。　That　was　nothing。　That　
was　floating　in　a　pool　of　cool　water。　I'd　take　it　a　thousand　times。　Take　it　and　be　grateful。　

The　fire　blazed　hotter　and　I　wanted　to　scream。　To　beg　for　someone　to　kill　me　now；　before　I　lived　one　
more　second　in　this　pain。　But　I　couldn't　move　my　lips。　The　weight　was　still　there；　pressing　on　me。　

I　realized　it　wasn't　the　darkness　holding　me　down；　it　was　my　body。　So　heavy。　Burying　me　in　the　flames　
that　were　chewing　their　way　out　from　my　heart　now；　spreading　with　impossible　pain　through　my　
shoulders　and　stomach；　scalding　their　way　up　my　throat；　licking　at　my　face。　

Why　couldn't　I　move？　Why　couldn't　I　scream？　This　wasn't　part　of　the　stories。　

My　mind　was　unbearably　clear—sharpened　by　the　fierce　pain—and　I　saw　the　answer　almost　as　soon　as　
I　could　form　the　questions。　

The　morphine。　

It　seemed　like　a　million　deaths　ago　that　we'd　discussed　it—Edward；　Carlisle；　and　I。　Edward　and　Carlisle　
had　hoped　that　enough　painkillers　would　help　fight　the　pain　of　the　venom。　Carlisle　had　tried　with　Emmett；　
but　the　venom　had　burned　ahead　of　the　medicine；　sealing　his　veins。　There　hadn't　been　time　for　it　to　
spread。　

I'd　kept　my　face　smooth　and　nodded　and　thanked　my　rarely　lucky　stars　that　Edward　could　not　read　my　
mind。　




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