What am I dying for?

Death is Peaceful, Life is Harder

Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone I loved.

I tried to concentrate on the angel's voice instead.
"Bella, please! Bella, listen to me, please, please, please, Bella, please!" he begged.
Yes, I wanted to say. Anything. But I couldn't find my lips.
"Carlisle!" the angel called, agony in his perfect voice. "Bella, Bella, no, oh please, no, no!" And the angel was sobbing tearless, broken sobs.
The angel shouldn't weep, it was wrong. I tried to find him, to tell him everything was fine, but the water was so deep, it was pressing on me, and I couldn't breathe.

It takes a few days for the transformation to be complete, depending on how much venom is in the bloodstream, how close the venom is to the heart. As long as the heart keeps beating, poison spreads, healing, changing the body as it moves through it. Eventually the heart stops, and the conversion is finished. But all the time, every minute of it, a victim would be wishing for death

I had never given much thought to how I would die, but dying in the place of someone I love doesn't seem like such a bad way to go.