Setting Dusk

She was gone, dead, lost. Emmett stood gazing at the lonesome grave made of white marble. He knew, underneath the marble, there was no reminisce of his beautiful, sweet love, just the shredded pink dress she was transformed in. He sighed, he could never move on, never. Curse the bastards who had deliberately takes his precious Rosalie away. Emmett scowled, he would hunt them down to the end of time to avenge his beloved Rose, to destroy every bit of the murderers.
He choked back a tearless sob. He must be strong for his dead love, that is what she would want. He sighed and turned away, looking back at his family, watching morosely in all black. "We're sorry," Esme breathed, soft as wind, "We knew her well. We understand."
Emmett nodded, unable to speak. They didn't understand. They couldn't. He knew that Edward, Esme and Carslie had known her longer than he had, but he would always understand her better than they did. She changed him...in more that one way. No one, ever, would understand.
He then thought, hard, 'Edward get out of my head'. He knew that his mind-reading brother would be searching his thoughts for signs of sadness or violence, but that was far away. It would come later, he knew it. Edward's face was sympathetic and understanding, but also a little hurt. Meanwhile, Emmett just turned back to the grave and sat, quite still on the ground in front of it. He sensed that the others had returned to the simple white house a few yards away. Emmett didn't mind. He needed time to be alone, to think...and maybe break a few trees.
He sighed, whoever had killed poor Rose had done a pretty good job of it. He wouldn't doubt if they had done it on purpose, to tear up the Cullen family. It was obviously a vampire, or one of those damn La Push mutts. Whoever it was, they had taken Rosalie, his dear Rosalie, with them. All he remembers is coming home from a baseball game with Edward, Jasper, Bella and Alice finding Rosalie's room in pieces. Carslie and Esme had gone to Alaska to visit Tanya's family, so they were gone. Rosalie had insisted on staying at home, despite the dry, yet thunderous, weather. She had said, exactly, "Um...I'd rather stay here. It might rain and it's picture day tomorrow."
Emmett chuckled sadly, if only she had gone, or if only he had come home earlier. All he had found of Rosalie was a small pile of ashes on her floor, with the room entirely shredded and windows shattered. Edward had been too far away to hear her thoughts, despite knowing her well. Alice hadn't even seen anything; he guessed it was a last-minute decision. However, she had seen the wrecked room and smoke, so they had all rushed home. It was too late. They had buried her the next day, today.
Emmett felt his anger flair, time to snap some firs. He flew over to a six-foot-wide tree and kicked it, sending it crashing down into others. He let out a snarl of fury, he needed to avenge his precious love. Unfortunatly, he didn't know how...