In The Name Of The Father
Carlisle's Story
What most people don't realize about London in the middle ages is that there is more to it than pretty dresses, scandal, war, and a grand monarchy. I should know. I lived there all my human life. I was born in London sometime in the 1640s. In those times, noone really kept track of one's birthday. Later, I made up that I was born on the 12th of March, 1640, because Alice wanted a date to plan a birthday party. But lets not skip to that now. They say that the beginning is the best place to begin, so that is where I will.
It all starts in my father's little church, after one of his numerous services. The year was 1652, and I was around "Let us go in peace, and praise the Lord whever we may go." He called to the crowd. "Amen" they all mumbled back to him. As parish pastor, he was quite an authoritable looked similar to me,fairly tall with blond hair in a neat crop style and brilliant blue eyes."Wonderful service Carlisle"(His name too was Carlisle Cullen, I was named after him.) People would say to him, shaking his hand, and he would reply with things like " Thank you" or "Peace be with you".
Normally I just stood next to him and smiled. However, what one man said triggered my curiosity. I knew this man, he was Jeremiah Preston, a good friend of my Father's. He appeared quite intimidating, young, dark and quite handsome, with a height of over 6 foot and full of muscle, But he was really a gentle giant."Is the hunt still on tonight, Carlisle?" Jeremiah whispered to my father. I stopped smiling and furrowed my brow in confusion. My father saw this, and gave me a look that said 'I'll explain later'. I gave him a curt nod back and smiled at Jeremiah."Of course of it is. Will I see you there?" "Of course Carlisle. Good day." "Good Day Jeremiah." My Father replied, and we both left.