A/N: This is a story I thought up this afternoon, following Edward Mason's last moments as a human, as he lays in the hospital dying of the Spanish Influenza in 1918 Chicago. It is from Edward's perspective, and since he's still human, and Bella won't exist for another hundred years or so, Edward is a little different from how we know him. He is after all, only seventeen for the first time.

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, and it's a good thing I don't- Stephenie Meyer writes her characters so much better than I ever could!

Sunset

Chapter One

Despair

Every bone, every joint every vein in my weak body shivered violently with a chill as if I was encased by ice. My head ached with sharp waves of pain above my right eye, causing heightened agony whenever I attempted to glance around my surroundings. I longed to slip back into unconsciousness. Sleep seemed to be the only relief, though I never woke rested.

The despair was nearly as overwhelming when completely removed from my body. In my week laying here in this particular hospital chamber, I had neither witnessed, nor heard of any patient leaving the room- alive. The heavy sigh of a nurse or doctor indicated another loss of human life, and was usually quickly followed by the squeaky wheels of the rolling table on which they transported the dead to the morgue. The room was rank with the smell of disease, the sounds of people attempting to hack through the grime blocking their air passages through coughing. But worst, was the feeling of fear. The darkness of fear encompassed all my thoughts, hiding the hope that might have lingered from view.

Death had never seemed so real. Death had never been something so very close to me. At the age of seventeen I had been to my share of funerals. mourning in the deaths of grandparents and friends loved. Never did I imagine that Death would touch my family- but it had. Father was gone. He and I had fallen sick on that same fateful September afternoon, but the diseased attacked him with so much more violence. Within a day of the first symptoms he fell asleep, his body convulsing violently with shivers of cold, all while his blood boiled within...

Mother never left his side. She didn't even stop to sleep, fighting desperately to keep him by her side. All day and all through the night she attended us, bringing cold towels in a vain attempt to cool our fevers. My fever was much milder, my coughs more clean. Still, Mother attended to me as much as she could. By morning Mother was weakened also, and when in the afternoon she herself feared she had contracted the epidemic she tried to call the doctor. With the influenza raging throughout the city and thousands of men crowding the hospitals, no physician could afford to make house calls. So, mother sent the serving staff home and called for a carriage to the hospital.

Upon arrival at the hospital Mother had been quarantined, though she had feigned perfect health to continue caring for us. Father and I were placed in cots, side-by -side on the floor. She stayed by us bedside all throughout the night seeing to it that we were as comfortable as possible. Around midnight Father slipped out of consciousness for the last time. By morning he was gone. Her tears had soaked his bedsheets before the nurses could come and cart his body away.

We couldn't even hold a funeral. I never even had the chance to say goodbye, not really. Mother soon admitted that she also was ill, and took Father's cot beside me. Her smooth, musical voice had gone hoarse as she whispered in the darkness to me in those rare moments of consciousness.

"Edward." She called to me now. I turned my head to face her, letting my face fall upon my pillow like a brick. I allowed my eyes to open as little as possible. She didn't even have to know I was awake. Mother should be falling to pieces. I was her grown son- I needed to be strong for her. If I she didn't even know I was conscious I wouldn't have to pretend that I wasn't giving up already.. The wrinkles around her eyes seemed to me to be gashes in her flesh. "Edward Mason. I know you're awake."

I squeezed my eyes shut. If I had to look at her face again I was going to cry, but a sudden, irresistible urge to cough gave me away completely. I sat up for a moment before falling back to the cot. My chest felt as if it was bursting with an internal explosion. I forced myself to sit with my back against the cold stone wall, which sent shivers up my spine.

"Edward, we're going to pull through this, you and I." She whispered, sitting upright herself so that her shoulder rested on the wall. She tried to smile to reassure me, but landed in a fit of coughs herself. I watched with growing horror as her body convulsed with coughs and shivers. She still tried to smile as she sank back to nestle her body in her sheets.

I caught a tear falling down her face, and that was enough to trigger my own weak emotions. I gave in to the hopelessness and cried, setting my chin down on my knees. My body shook with such violence that the woolen blanket covering me, keeping me feeling warm fell to my side. I wanted the misery to take me.

God! Oh God! Let me die please. Please... You love me, right God? Let me die... make me die. Let me perish lord. May the fever burn me away.

I sank back onto the cot, setting my head on the pillow. I refused to put the blanket back, thinking perhaps if I was more miserable my life would end sooner. My whole body felt numb and cold. I cried. My prayers turned into poems of misery in my head, begging God to put an end to me. I drifted out of consciousness again, still praying.

When I woke again I was first disappointed that I wasn't yet dead. Then I realized that Mother was waiting, sitting up for me. She wanted to talk to me, I could tell just by looking into her green eyes.

"I'm dying Mother." I said, my rasping voice struggling just to force out the words.

"No Edward." She replied, firmly, as if I was seven years old again and she had just slapped my hand for sticking my finger into her blueberry pie. "I don't believe this is what God wants for you." She clarified, her voice weaker than before.

"How do you know what God wants?" I snapped. "He wants me to die." Mother smiled and began humming. She went on like that for a few moments, her eyes closed.

"Don't say that dear. There's so much more for you to do my son. I want you to hold on. You will make it through this."

"No Mother, I won't." I insisted.

"Edward Mason! You've always been such a good boy, don't you start to talk back to your mother now. Your existence is not about to end in this place." Her words were quiet, her tone resolute. She closed her eyes, serenely and let herself fall asleep again. I looked on my mother and closed my own eyes.

God forgive me... If only for my Mother, I don't want to die anymore. I know you have a place for me in heaven, but I'm not ready yet!Oh Lord, don't let me go!

I was brought back to consciousness by sharp pains in the pit of my stomach. I had hardly imagined a greater pain than that which I had already endured, but this was worse. My fever wasn't breaking, I knew that much. My chest rising into the air, I coughed more, my throat burning as I gasped for air. I turned my head, and there Mother was, looking back at me, her eyes wide with fright. Her eyes told me I must look worse. She believed I was dying now.

The coughing fit subsided for a moment and I lay my head back on my pillow.

"Edward," Mother said, her tone now frantic. "Dear one. Pull through this."

"I don't think... I can." I choked out. I saw Mother pulling on her left hand before I had to shut my eyes. It hurt too much to have them open, even in the dim light of the setting sun streaming in through the high windows. I felt the warmth of her hands around one of mine. I felt her ring slip around my smallest finger.

"Mother, no." I gasped, still unable to open my eyes. I felt... So sleepy, but I still knew that Mother shouldn't be giving me her ring.

"Keep it safe. Stay strong. Love, Edward. This ring needs to go to someone who deserves it, and I want you to cherish her forever... I won't be needing it anymore." She whispered in my ear, her voice weaker and somehow more desperate than ever before. I realized that she was crying now, but I could do nothing to comfort her. I had no energy to speak.

The feeling of despair was subsiding. I became aware that I wasn't even thinking and fought desperately to force myself back into the hopelessness, but even misery was beyond me now.

I could feel myself slipping away.

I was going to die.

And I was afraid.

It was as if there was nothing. My whole being cried out in pain, yet it was all numbness. My awareness of self was the only indication I could give myself that I still lived.

And I was so very terrified.

Oh God! I'm so afraid

A/N: Well, there's Chapter One. I'll continue soon- I hope! I really enjoyed writing it, and I hope that if you like reading it that you'll review!