Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil.

—Psalm 23

They say in the moments before you die, time slows down and your whole life flashes before your eyes. Every person you encountered in your lifetime, for better or for worse, every choice and mistake made, and arguments fought; you experience them all over again in a span of a second. Every single one.

This is why you should live your life with no regrets. You never know when that argument will be the last words spoken, a moment spent with family your last chance to make that moment count and mean something. Because nobody can say if that moment will be your last chance to say I love you to the ones you love.

I never spared a thought to how I would die, I mean why would I? I have too much to live for. I would've hoped if I died at all, it'd be in my sleep as an old woman surrounded by pictures of my friends and loved ones. If I had bothered to spare a thought to how I would die, I wouldn't have imagined the outcome being like this:

I stared across the long room, into the ruby red eyes of the hunter, and he looked cordially back at me. My sister laid sprawled out on the floor behind me, a puddle of her own blood that's growing bigger with every passing second, underneath her.

I cannot bring myself to care about how I will die and the fact is, I am going to die. Furthermore I know I can't worry about my death because I'm doing this for somebody precious to me. I also know if I had never gone to Forks with my sister to live with our father, neither one of us would be in this predicament.

I also had the comfort of knowing that the one man that stole my heart would never allow for anyone or anything to bring harm to me. He'd sooner lay waste to the world than let anything bad happen to me, and knowing that makes me almost feel sorry for the guy that is licking his lips and staring at me right now. Almost. That is until I remember he's the sick bastard that wants to kill me.

When I take my final breaths, I know there's not a soul on planet earth capable of protecting him from the Sword of Damocles that is about to fall on his head.

With a smile and not breaking eye contact with the hunter, I stripped off my jacket and threw it on the floor. The words, "Come and get me, you pasty-faced son of a bitch!" fearlessly rolled off my tongue. Snarling, our hunter lunged without hesitation.