Apple Garden.
Summary: If Rosalie had a sister, but she was sent away, all because of an apple, here is there story. There is a link on my profile to show a picture of them.
Disclaimer: I only own Suzanne. Stephanie Meyer owns the rest.
I remember, all the way back to when I was possibly seven and my younger sister Suzanne was five. We were the best of friends even though our personalities are so different. I was a shy girl, meek and mild, whereas Suzanne was confident, cheeky and wild, our mother used to say that we were as different as chalk and cheese.
We lived in a beautiful house in Rochester, New York. We had an equally beautiful garden, where our father, surprisingly grew apples, I know he was a bank worker and yet he grew apples in his spare time, they were delicious apples too, we loved to eat them in the summer. But other wise Suzanne and I were never allowed to touch the apples. So that's when it all went wrong, I suppose. He was always a touchy man when it came to his apples, we never knew why.
" Suzanne! No, you must stop, wait for me!" I called after my surprisingly fast little sister. She laughed as she hurtled down the path, in her bare feet. I had her shoes and stockings in my hands, I had to get them on her before mother noticed but that was never going to happen. Our long blonde hair streamed out behind us as we ran, seeming to shimmer in the sunlight that shined down. Suzanne laughed at me because I was starting to run out of breath, my pale face turning slightly red. Suzanne reached her apparent destination, the patch of grass at the end of the garden. Where the apples were. I flopped down beside her, neither of us caring if we got dirty, I cast her shoes and stockings to one side as we lay down, the sun beating on out stomachs and faces.
I heard Suzanne get up and move, I opened my eye a crack and saw her with one of father's apples freshly plucked from the tree. I gasped
" Suzanne no!" I shrieked, but I must have said it to loud as father came charging out of the house, he saw Suzanne and started to walk faster, I screamed. He grabbed Suzanne knocking the apple right out her hand, it rolled across the grass, and I could watch in horror.
I never saw Suzanne for the rest of the day, nor the next day I asked my parents where my sister had gone, but they told she had gone to stay with my French cousins, to learn some manners. I knew better though. All because of those delicious apples.
Every-time I see a human bite into an apple at lunch, it fills my head with horrible thoughts, so I sit closer to Emmett; taking in his scent. He thinks I just want a hug but he won't ever know.