Memoirs of the Lonely Composer

by iamintrigued

First attempt at fanfiction. These are Edward's Journal entries from 1918 when he became a Vampire until Now or as far as I get . Please give me reviews. I am on Chapter 4 and don't want to continue unless it is good enough for an audience.

1. Chapter 1: The Muse

Memoirs of the Lonely Composer: Journals Entries of Edward Cullen's

Note from the author:

This story is a work in progress. I had several of these visions before I started writing, so I guess I will be starting at one and updating from time to time. I dream in color, so my dreams are vivid, so I can remember all my dreams. Who knows how long this can get. But, hear goes. (My first attempt at putting my visions down on paper)

Preface

I have often wondered why I was chosen to be tormented day after day, night after night to live eternally alone with these thoughts, vivid thoughts of the love that I can never have. I must have done something really wrong in a former life, but yet I am damned to hell daily, and not only just with eternal yearning for love but also left to hear not only my tortured mind but all those around me as well. I cannot sleep so the thoughts are never ending; so much that I sometimes wonder if Carlisle didn't really kill me that night and I am trapped in my own personal hell. No, that's right I can't sleep but I can still dream, go figure more pain for my broken and battered soul.

Chapter 1: The Muse

December 24, 1918

Yeah!!! (Christmas Eve.) Mother, I miss you and love you, Merry Christmas. I know you wanted me to be saved but I have to assume you didn't know what you were asking at the time. You wanted me saved, but to never see your face again in heaven that just can't be how you pictured it. Anyway, I am now trapped, damned to hell, no hope of an eternity in heaven. My soul is lost and you are farther away than you could have gone on Earth. Carlisle is a great man; don't get me wrong; he has more morals as a vampire than I had as a human. The soldier in me wanted to fight this fate. But, it was no use. So, I have learned to endure. I tried the hard life (or easy life which ever you want to call it) but I couldn't live with the regret, the shame, and the visions that swam around in my head of the victims begging for their lives or the blood on my face when I was finished looking at the red eyes staring back at me in the mirror. I had to run back to my Father, My Creator; I had to learn how to have some form of existence that didn't haunt me every second of every day. I am still searching. But, I can at least now turn my thirst away from human flesh and be seen among the living without dining on their unique and quenching blood. Carlisle says I am a work in progress and he tries to consol me to no avail. I would commit suicide but how and why because hell is suppose to the greatest pain imaginable; and I am already there.

January 1, 1919

Happy New Year. Yeah right. What's happy about it? I am here trapped inside myself with so many needs that are unattainable. I cannot find a place where the pain is not so strong that it over comes every nerve in my body. I do not even find solace in composing any longer. I haven't touched the piano in months. I am too overwhelmed by all the thoughts surrounding me. Not my thoughts, but everyone else's for miles around. It is like a huge bubble with conversations to choose from everywhere. Yes, people may not often talk but their minds never shut up. This gift (as Carlisle calls it-I call it a curse) is too much for my humble mind to control. I hear so many thoughts that I cannot distinguish between them. Carlisle says I need to work on channeling them apart and separating them into something useful. He feels that I should embrace this curse and use it to benefit us. I have to agree that if I could control it; finding people who thought us monsters or had plans to kills us would be much beneficial. I guess this is something I will have to work on at some better point in time.

February 12, 1919

I find myself becoming much better equipped to handle the gift I have been given. Yeah, I know, I sound like I actually like this new found power. But, that's not the case. It has just come in handy for the first time in many months. Yesterday, I actually hear a faint thought of a young woman who had recently lost her child. She felt much like me with no will to continue so she jumped off a cliff. This enabled me to let Carlisle save her, though, I am not sure I was doing her any favors. I meant for Carlisle to save her life not doomed her to eternal death. But, he felt no power against the yearning to have her by his side for the rest of eternity. She is in so much pain, as is he, I cannot stand to see this, so I have taken my leave for a while.

March 13, 1919

I have returned to my family at last. Carlisle was so happy to see me again. And, to my surprise his new bride was happy to be by his side. She looked so beautiful, so content, so at peace. How? How could she feel this at ease when she had been turned into a monster? But, as I listened, intrigued by her voice, she explained that she had never felt love except for the love she had her for child. But it died so young at 2 days old that it was short lived. However, she never thought that love could find her again so she wanted to leave the cruel world that bonded her to an eternity of suffering. Then, after her rebirth (as Carlisle has so sweetly named it) she started to see clearly. Of, course she was angry at first. Why had this man been so cruel to make her live eternally with the pain of never finding true love. But after Carlisle explained the vision he had the first time he saw her; she was lost in his trance. She could not comprehend how to move, breathe, or blink. All she could do is stare into his eyes and forever feel home. She was finally home. Home in her heart/his heart. Home for the first time in her life with a heart full of love, and at last that love was returned by someone else. At that very moment they both knew this was meant to be; they were meant to be together for eternity. Since that moment they have not been apart literally (and almost physically as well). They were one, a unit, a family, and more than that they wanted me to be part of that family. A part of me was happy, I also longed for that family that they offered. But, then there was the part of me that knew I would never find what they had and seeing them daily would be a constant tormented reminder of that fact. None the less, I could not turn my back on Carlisle. Suddenly as I began to nod in agreement of this new family, my new Mother, Esme comes running toward me throwing her arms around my neck hugging me as if I were her actual long lost son. I have to admit that it felt good. I felt loved for the first time since my mother's death. No she would never replace my true mother, but I could see myself as part of her family. She then told me how Carlisle had told her so much about me that she felt as if she had known me her whole life; she felt like I had been her family forever and she hoped I would soon follow in her emotions. I said nothing but in my heart could tell she was right and I would feel the same way very soon.

April 21, 1919

Esme and Carlisle are impossible to watch. Their love is so pure that it sickens my heart. Not because I hate what they feel for each other. That could be farther from the truth. I was happy for the both of them. I know they will never be unhappy in love again. Not that they didn't have other problems to deal with but at least they had each other to lean on in times of hardship. No what was sickening was the yearning I had to also feel love. BUT, I could never wish to have that because I would never wish for someone I love to lose their soul. No one deserves to feel abandoned or alone. No one should have to deal with an eternity of wandering with no hope of finding paradise with the Savior. Even worse to be consider part of Satan's army though I didn't feel that way at all was even more tormenting. At least for now someone has a reason for existing and I am happy for that.

May 13, 1919

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, you cannot grow older, and you drink blood too. Yeah!! Another seventeenth birthday. Doomed to never grow older, never feel my age, never have wrinkles or grow old with my love swinging next to me on the porch. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. We have moved again we are in Alaska for the summer. People don't notice how cold your skin is when it isn't hot outside. Nor, do they notice how pale you are when the sun only shines a couple of hours a day. Esme and Carlisle are still as in love as ever. I wonder if some love really does last forever. For their sakes, I truly hope so. For my sake, I hope not or else not having love for a lifetime would be like being locked in a dungeon without hope of escape.

June 2, 1919

We are still in Alaska living within the Denali. Btu I had the strangest experience today. Today I could smell this sweet aroma that called me to it. It was weird one part of me was a blood thirsty murderer that couldn't resist the urge to taste the blood of whatever it was creating this smell. Another part of me yearned to smell the smell forever because it felt so warm, so inviting, like home. It is almost as if there is a battle raging inside me, fighting to see which one will win: the monster or the composer. So, as I take in this new delight, I sit down at my piano and start to play. I don't know why but from my fingers come a song, almost as if it had been written years earlier and I was just replaying it for the first time. It was slow. It was sweet. It was almost a lullaby. Where did it come from? Why couldn't I get that smell out of my mind? Why of all nights were all other thoughts erased except that smell and this sound. Torture. Torture. Hell knows no bounds to its torture.

July 15, 1919

I still play daily and always the same song. Carlisle and Esme wonder when I will stop and play their favorites again. Esme longs to hear her song again, but would dare not ask. So, tonight I broke free of my trance and played it for her. She was happy for the moment, but it was short lived. As soon as finished, I started right back on that song. The lullaby I couldn't get out of my head. When I wasn't playing it; I was humming it. It was if instead of me being the composer something inside me had taken over and was serenading me. It was so calming to my mind that all of the other's thoughts became clearer. I felt peaceful while at the same time resentful at the way I longed to devour the creature that creates the smell I cannot escape. But, I am getting stronger I hope. One day maybe I can attempt to fight whatever this is that has taken over my soul.

August 5, 1919

The illusions still continue. I still cannot play any song but hers. I still smell her; she' stuck in my mind as clear as if I was standing next to her. Yes, I said her. Don't ask me how I know but as the days have continued to linger more vivid illusions have emerged to take over my mind. The smell, if you could imagine, has gotten stronger. My thirst for it is almost impossible to bear as is my desire to take in every bit of it I can. Not that I could erase any of it from my memory; then, came this feeling of a soft tender wind brushing across my face ever so gently. At first, I threw it off as just that, a tantalizing wind. But, as the days progressed it was even most distinct. I could feel it more and more every day. First, I felt it as a wind that was so erotic that I could feel the orgasm at the surface of my every being. Then, as a touch, yes a touch as pure as the snow on the Alaskan Denali. It was a touch so inviting that I had to reach out trying to hold on to it; if only for a moment more. It is so wrong, this conflict that I have going on inside me. No normal man could endure such pain; it would kill him. The yearning for that smell and touch to take over your mind, body, and soul; then, there (the flip side of that yearning) is the rage you feel to consume your want and devour it in one bite, sucking all the life out of whatever it is that tortures you so. But, still somewhere along the way I knew it was her. The smell, the touch, the sweet aroma of her blood could be nothing else. She was the muse of my existence and the Devil Goddess of my mind. But, I was lost. I could never forget. I could never-not want whatever it is that I could feel coming.

September 11, 1919

Carlisle and Esme are concerned about me. They would never say anything but I can hear their thoughts. They think I am depressed and longing for companionship. They just do not know how right and wrong at the same time they are, but it does no good to be right or wrong. None of it can ease this pain that grows bigger every second. The uncontrollable disease that grows inside of me over taking every cell in my body is so spread out now that it is irreversible. She is as much a part of me as my arm. I do nothing without first thinking her. I have even given up trying to fight it, though I know very soon I will have to try. I cannot stand an eternity of this nightmare. I will have to find a way to forget or find a way to die, whichever comes first. If only, I could block out my thoughts. To just feel or think nothing would be such a relief. To finally be able to release the tension I feel in my very being, would be an orgasmic moment.

October 15, 1919

I have finally lost my mind. Carlisle has been working long hours. I was playing the piano thinking about the smell and her breathe when all of a sudden I felt her. Yes, it was her. I could actually feel the sweet scrumptious sensation as it entered my body and went through me like a bolt of lightning. In one instance, I was the monster and the lover of a stranger all at the same time. How can that be? How could you want to destroy something that you wanted so badly? Her touch called to me, and I was gone. I could escape it no longer. It was a constant reminder of what I could not have, what I would never have, what I could never wish to have – love, passion, happiness. But, still I cannot escape it, she is everywhere. I still hear the cries of the strangers around me. Their thoughts are much clearer than in the past. Maybe soon I can find a way to use that to my advantage to maybe suppress these yearning these senses that have awaken in me. One thing is for sure since she has become a haunting part of my life I can definitely harness the thoughts of others and separate them, and mold them to my needs. I can even find the thoughts of things that I need to know almost as easily as scanning the forest for my next meal. It is as if she is there parting the clouds into a clear meadow of thoughts laid out like a field of flowers waiting for me to pick whichever bouquet I find appealing for that day. BUT, still she tortures my every being; just the thought of it as I put it on paper is agonizing.

November 10, 1919

I have finally given in to the insanity of it all. I am totally, completely, and irrevocably gone. My mind is a slave to her. Tonight was the first night that I actually saw her face. I was shocked. It wasn't that she wasn't beautiful because she was breath-taking. I guess I just never expected it to be so clear. It is torture just to remember it now. I can feel her touch, her kiss, her breath on my face still. I was playing her song when all of a sudden she was there: her breathe, that tantalizing aroma that is her, and then I felt that inviting touch calling me. So, I turned and there before me was the one, the soul being of my lust, my muse. She was as clear as a rose blooming in the spring. When as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone. I was torn. I didn't know if I wanted to run after the illusions or stay and pray that I could stand at all without the thought of it in my mind. I was frozen. Where was she? Why had she shown me the thing I wanted most but could never have? Now, I knew I was doomed to an eternity of searching for something. Something that was lost to me. It was mine and I wanted it back. Even though, I had never actually owned or even had it; she was mine and I would spend every second of my being trying to find it again. Hell is an awful place.

December 1, 1919

I must be possessed because whatever she is; she has taken over my very existence. I have got to break free of this war that rages within me. I am totally trapped in her grasp. She is in control and I for a moment- for that wonderful grand moment, a moment so heavenly that I would wish to stay in it forever I was with her, but therein lays the problem. It did end, and now I cannot stand not having the moment any longer. The realization that it wasn't real is too much for my mind. I cannot sleep so dreaming is impossible; it had to be real. I had to actually experience this erotic moment, or else I had to be completely possessed by some demon that found humor in torturing me. But, none the less before I set out on my journey to forget- I must leave witness to the experience. It was just too good to lose forever. It all started tonight. Esme and Carlisle had gone to the theatre. Yes, they still acted like young lovers. Anyway, I was again playing her song. As if I was playing for her to sleep. Then suddenly, her smell was so strong that my senses stood on end. I could immediately feel her breathe on the back of my neck. She was breathing ever so calmly and slowly, but I couldn't stop myself from inhaling in shock at the sensations that were being aroused in my inner being. Then, I felt it. Her touch; it was so inviting. (Even though it took all of me not to turn and destroy it in one swift bite) I had become accustomed to her smell and things that I almost didn't want them in a monstrous way, but not her touch that was too close. Still I sat and continued to play as if someone else inside me had taken over and wouldn't let me move or stop. Her fingers ever so slowly slid across the back of my neck. I closed my eyes, but continued to play. Then, as if taunting the monster within me, she kissed my neck: gently, softly, sweetly, and sensually. Yet, still I played on. She continued the kisses across, up, down, everywhere until she reached my ear. I froze in place no sound in the room, though only for a second. I didn't won't the moment to stop, so a second later I continued her song; keeping my eyes closed. She then went to a place I thought was impossible in a daydream. She slowly wrapped her arms around my waist and held me ever so longingly. I wanted this to never stop. It was such a sensation that I could feel my non-beating heart skip a beat. Next, she took it even farther. I felt her moving around me to the side of my piano bench but facing me not the piano. She kept moving almost nudging one of my arms to drop where she instantly moved in-between my two arms and legs the whole time while I continue to play. She then slowly (so slowly) slid into me wrapping first one leg around my waist, next the other. I don't know how she did this; the movement seemed impossible. She was now fully against me. I dared not stop playing or open my eyes, I was too scared of what might happen; I never wanted to do anything to make this feeling go away. Then, the moment I had yearned for came; she kissed my mouth. The taste was like melted sugar (the sweetest taste imaginable). I just absorbed every sensation and dared not to stop playing. Then, either the lust or the hunger was too strong I could take it no more. I wrapped my arms around the sensation and turned to lay it on the floor where I could devour it in an erotic display of love making no one had ever seen or experienced or maybe I'd wanted to devour the temptress so she could plague me no more- ah, to taste that sweet crimson magic. The latter I knew I would have instantly regretted, probably for an eternity. However, it mattered not for I was too late. Reality had returned she was gone. AND!!! I was tortured even more. I didn't know what to do. I had to do something I had to have her. I would have her, if it took an eternity to find her; I would and when I did, I would destroy her for making me want her so much.

January 1, 1920

I am an empty shell. I only thought I was in hell before. Now I truly knew hell. I can no longer feel her, see her, or even smell her. I try God knows I try, but nothing. It is like I scared her away with my attack on her advances. But, now she is nowhere. No one could imagine the hell of knowing exactly what you want, coming within seconds and inches away from getting it, and then realizing that it was all a dream- a fog that had quickly cleared so that the blinding light could shine through and blind you with the truth. I told Carlisle and Esme we had to move. I could no longer stay where her memory was; they of course agreed- though they found my intrigue with my imaginary love a bit insane. They would do anything to keep me from my pain. I really am very lucky in some ways.

February 14, 1920

This is Carlisle and Esme's first real Valentine's Day together. The last was impossible to celebrate for she was in too much pain. She still has to stay in the backgrounds and balconies of the public to control her thirst for human blood, but she is getting much better at it. She and Carlisle truly are a perfect match. They left today, however, so they could be away from the world and all that tempted her to give into the monster within her. Carlisle has not told her where they are going it is a surprise. However, I had to be in on the plans since I had to take care of many of the arrangements for him. Carlisle has purchased and island (very small and secluded) that is a perfect place for two lovers to unleash their passion for each other (especially if that passion is incredibly unpredicted and destructive). She will be so happy, and I will not have to endure the heartache of hearing about every moment in their thoughts the next day. Ah, there go my thoughts again. I vowed to never think of that cursed muse again. She still haunts my very soul, if I allow her to. I am getting much better of dealing with ways to distract myself lately however. I have been attending school. I find that if I throw myself into learning any and everything that I can my mind stays occupied. Of course any mention of love or want, and she poops right back up to haunt me more. The experience is still so indescribable and painfully clear in my memory. But, now I have lent myself to trying to hate the muse that help me harness the powers of the demon within me.

March 13, 1920

Time seems unmoving lately. I do not know what has come over me. But, I have learned how to turn off my emotions a little better. I guess it could be the fact that no matter how many different people's minds or how many different thoughts I hear from those minds; they stay fundamentally the same. Money, sex, love, social stature, usually all internally egotistical and almost always they are the underlying theme of all minds. I have to say that it has become very boring and almost irritating. I find myself loathing people I don't even know simply because of their thoughts. I hope my new found emotions do not mean that the monster within me is taking over. But, I now feel myself thinking in terms of those humans, or us vampires. GOD, what am I becoming? No, God won't answer that because he has nothing to do with what has happened to me. That is all together another being and there is nothing good about him.

April 22, 1920

I am becoming as cold at heart as I am in the flesh. I feel nothing for anyone or anything around me, with the exception of Carlisle and Esme. They are still my family and their happiness and love toward me are the only thing that keep me grounded and in touch with the human side of myself. I will not be the monster that I am doomed to become because I will not make Carlisle un-proud of me. I see in his thoughts how happy my vegetarianism makes him. I would never again tarnish that image if I could help it. As for the muse, I hardly ever bring her to mind. She is a part of me that still lingers, but now more like an old sketch that is worn and crinkled. I have placed her in the file of human dreams way in the back of my head. I hope she never resurfaces; I do not think I could control the monster within if she did. I would destroy anything around just to escape that old pain and torment. However, this new emotion of unfeeling makes me tire of all things that hold me still. I do not enjoy writing in my journal as I once did. I once used it for a way to keep the memories I now wish to forget. I still enjoy playing but now I only play composition of old composers. I have no new compositions of my own. The composer in me is lonely and lost; his muse has left him empty and without a purpose. SO, he sleeps waiting for a new inspiration. I hope it never comes; I do not want to feel. I like the emptiness I have now. It is so much better than the pain and longing. We are moving again when they return, I think a change is good. I tire of Alaska and the thoughts of the villagers have become suspicious.

May 1920

No entries

June 1920

No entries

July, August, September, October, November, December ……….

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