It was 1823 and I was walking down the street in a small town, called Detshire, when it started. When the voice came. When the voice controlled me. I was only 15 years old and yet I experienced fear that adults four times my age couldn't describe. There was only one way to stop it. To kill, or so I thought.

My leather shoes were falling apart as they clattered when I stepped on the stony path. My father, Carlisle, looked very different than me and some people had the tenacity to ask if I was a bastard child that he adopted. Carlisle always held his ground and never raised his voice when he affirmed them that I was in fact his son and that my mother died during childbirth. He always told me about her, Esme, and how she was the most beautiful woman to grace this earth. He once even whispered to me that she was prettier than the queen, when I was seven, that caused me to widen my eyes and open my mouth in shock. He, also, told me that she had the same hair color as me to which I was also very surprised since my hair was very unusual and I had never seen anyone with hair like mine. It had very different shades of red and brown mixed together to make a bronze, even though each strand was different. He described her to me with exact detail some nights when I couldn't sleep, as if he had etched a replica of her in his mind. He said that she had ocean blue eyes and pink cheeks with a smile that could warm a dead man's heart and her own heart was so big that he had sometimes wondered how it did not jump out of her chest.

Carlisle was similar but different in his own way. He had had warm blue eyes and blond hair that he always kept to the side and a smile that he reserved only for me. He was the best father and the most caring and compassionate man I ever knew. He used to be a doctor and that's how he met mother but after she died and Carlisle could not save her, he gave up. He always apologized to me for not having a lot of money but he said that being back in that position was like experiencing her death all over again. I usually didn't mind being poor but sometimes I couldn't help but be cross at father for quitting. We had to share a small cottage with the Hales and they always treated us like the dirt under their shoes, as if they weren't in the same situation. Father always treated them with respect and kindness even when they were mean. One time, they kicked us out when I was five and brought snow into the house to make an "indoor snowman" and Carlisle calmly packed our belongings without saying a word. We were forced to sleep outside in the snow but father put all the blankets around me and none on him. He got sick then and he was really ill for months but he survived. He always told me that love would keep our hearts beating.

I was different, really different. I had electric green eyes and my hair was really wild. I had a very crooked grin that I would give to people that would give me money for food, but I always saved my smile for Carlisle. Even as a child, I was taller and more lankier than my friends. To be honest, I had only one friend. Only one person treated me the same and had no regard towards my economic status, Anthony Masen. He was my best friend but he was also different than me. He was the son of the duke. He had very bright blonde hair, like a lemon, and everyone called him lemonhead, except Carlisle and I, of course. I simply called him Anthony and father called him Mr. Masen. I once asked Carlisle why he named Anthony like an adult, but he just said that since he was royalty and we were not, we had to treat him with respect. This didn't make sense to me but I called him in front of adults, just in case.

Carlisle was angry at me that day since I had kicked a woman in the leg when she called father "a worthless peasant that was too lazy to find a job". He told me to think about what I did, by walking to the butcher's shop and helping him clean up. I was walking trying to forget about how that woman stared at father with a look of pure hatred. Who was she to hate us for not having money? The anger grew inside of me with every step I took. I felt it bubble up in my chest as I walked faster and faster. What was our society gone to? Hating a father and his child for their lack of economic status. The anger flowed over as a foreign sound came from me. A growl escaped from my lips and my vision turned red. Right then, I felt an excruciating pain in my head. It was as if someone was punching me from the inside. I held onto my head in an effort to stop the pain, but I collapsed on the floor from the pain. A taunting voice entered my head and it was a voice that I would never forget.

Don't fight me, my boy. We want the same thing. It will make everything better. We need it. We need to kill.

He was a monster. I tried to stop myself. I tried to stop the voice but it was futile. It was as if the monster flipped a switch and he controlled my body, now. I rose, my head still throbbing in pain, and walked towards the the street and out of the alleyway. I looked around and saw a small girl, around the age of five, running towards me. It was Anthony's little sister. What was she doing here without a guard?

"Edward! I ran away. Anthony hit me and it hurts and I'm never going to forgive him. I hate him." The good side of my mind tried to stop myself.

Calm yourself. It's just Lilly. You can't hurt her. She's just a little girl. Your know her.

But that's what the monster wanted. It wanted to kill and hurt. I felt my mouth move and I heard the words come out but I did not want to say it. The monster was in control, and I was just his pawn. He could use me however he wanted.

"Come with me, Lilly." She wiped her tears and enveloped her tiny hand in mine. I was shaking as I tried to stop myself from what the monster was making me do. I did not want to kill Lilly. I loved Lilly. She was pure and innocent and just a child. I felt another wave of pain in my head and the shaking stopped as the monster spoke.

You cannot go against me. We will take what we need. You cannot stop it. You need her.

I led her into the dark alleyway, deep where no one could hear her screams or see what I was about to do. I put my hand on her neck and applied the right amount of force for her to gasp for air. I couldn't stop the moan that escaped my lips, as pleasure overcame me. I was disgusted at what I was doing and how I was enjoying it. I was the monster. The pain and anger were slowly fading as her heartbeat was slowing and her life was being sucked out of her. She stopped thrashing and her eyes met mine. I closed my eyes as another wave of pleasure overcame me and I groaned. I opened my eyes to see her lifeless ones still staring at mine. I dropped her body and continued to walk, as if it meant nothing. That was how it all started. That was how I became one of the most feared murderers in England. Most of all, that was how I lost myself to the demon inside of me and how I spent the rest of my life fighting my demon.