Disclaimer: We do not own Twilight.
This fanfic is brought to you by Meganthy

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Dearest Diary,

I sit here now, I feel confused and alone. I watch Carlisle and the son-Edward. And I can't help but feel gratification. I admire Carlisle to such an extreme that it hurts. I owe him my life.
I remember that day, when I was twelve. I remember the day that I first saw Carlisle Cullen.

I watched my skirt fly up around me, watching my legs twirl and twirl around.
I hated dance practise. I hated the stupid ball. I hated the stupid skirt.

I sat down in the corner, watching the other girls twirl, spin and prance around the hall. Their perfect skirt's falling gracefully around their long legs. I didn't belong here. I looked out the door-way onto the grass beyond. I belonged outside. I wanted to walk around with girls my age; I wanted to fit in with people my age. I didn't want to be in this ridiculous dance studio, always behind the other girls.
These people had the graceful bodies for dancing; they were also four or so years older than me. The costume looked fully inappropriate on me. It wasn't made for me.

I sat there, watching everybody have fun, becoming professionals in front of my eyes.
Every Thursday I spent two hours sitting and watching them. Did they even know I existed? Did they even care?

I sighed. It was officially over and I was allowed to leave.
I stood and packed my too-tight shoes into my satchel; waiting for the last girl's to leave. They all had big, rich houses to go home to. I would be returning to the farm.

I looked at the ground when I walked, my laces were done up and the hem of my skirt was neat. My mother took pride in the fact that I was so well kempt. I prided myself on that too. As I neared the gate I looked once up at the sky. I spread my arms out and twirled in the early winter warmth. It was an unusual day, not a cloud in the sky. I breathed deeply in the fresh air. I loved being outdoors. I loved helping mother in the garden, watching flowers sprout out of earth that I had kept. Watching vegetables grow out of seeds that I had planted.
I wanted to make a difference in this world.

I rushed up the last few stairs, eager to drop my bag and bask in the last hours of sunlight. I saw my mother's figure in the kitchen, preparing dinner for my father and older brother. They would be home late tonight as on Thursday's they worked late.
When my brother was my age he worked on the farm, in fact he practically ran it. Then when he was fourteen he was involved in a terrible accident when some machinery fell onto him, he lost the movement's in the lower half of his body and now he work's in the bank with my father-it's up to mother to watch the farm. They don't let me help, not after what happened to Robert. They don't trust me.
I sighed and slipped off my shoes, making my way to the kitchen. I grabbed the potato peeler and began to help out with dinner. My blissful afternoon was already ruined.
My mother-Clarisse, looked side-ways at me. "How was dancing?" She asked.
"Good." I replied. I would never admit my hate for dancing; it would be so unfair on my parents who had high expectations of me.

The ball was being held on Saturday, it wasn't uncommon for a ball to be on. It also wasn't uncommon for my parents to be invited, as they were well respected citizens. It was uncommon, however, for me to be able to go.
Not that I wanted to go. Balls involved pretty dresses, people getting dressed up, and dancing.
I loved pretty dresses; I loved special events and all that. I admired people who could dance. It's just none of that was for me. I wasn't a fairy princess; I was a farm girl with mousy brown hair.
Nobody noticed me. I was the daughter of Charles and Clarisse. Sometimes I think my family was disappointed in me. And for that sole reason, I signed up for dance class. Thinking magically I would be transformed in time for the ball.
I wasn't magically transformed. Not in time for the ball.
I didn't think I'd ever be magically transformed.
I'll never be one of the pretty ladies who sits back and watches-lets people do everything for them. I was a girl who did things for other people.
And maybe that's something to be proud of. Or maybe it's not. I don't know.

I finished preparing the vegetables for the evening meal, I glanced out the window, it was darkening and I wouldn't be allowed outside. I thought of an excuse.
"Mother?"

"Yes dear?" She replied.

"I'm just going to go and check on the horses and fill their water."

I hurried out of the room before she could answer; we both knew that my father had refilled it only earlier this day.

I grabbed my best coat; it would surely be cold out now.
I was proud of this coat, it was thin and easy to move in-yet it held a lot of warmth. I pulled my boats on. I laughed at the reflection.

I pulled the door firmly shut behind me, heading for the stables. I checked the water just for good measure. It was almost full.
I walked around to the back; my eye's catching on the wooden pole. Every afternoon for the past three months I had been trying to get onto the roof. All I needed to do was climb that pole and reach onto the sheets of roofing. Easy yet impossible, but with my trusted lucky coat, I felt today was the day.
I snuck around to the back, checking that nobody was watching. Then I reached one hand up and grabbed the wood, it felt very strong. I pulled myself up with both of my arms. Heaving and grunting in the process. I pulled my legs up and left them on metal sheeting, propelling myself higher. The roof was in sight, I only needed five centimetres and I was there. I reached up, my fingers out stretched. Nearly. Almost.
Suddenly the roofing came loose, toppling down on the ground, my legs swang free. I screamed, supporting my full weight with only my arms. Suddenly the wooden pole didn't seem so sturdy.
My eyes opened wide in horror when I felt it swaying, before it too cracked to the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut, my heart pounding in my ears. A sharp pain was shooting up my arm, I tried to roll over but couldn't. I opened my eyes and saw the big pole on my arm. Every time I tried to pull my arm from underneath it a sharp pain ran all through my body, making tears sprout to my eyes.
"Help!" I yelled feebly. Scared of what my parent's would say when they found me.
I was at the nearest stable to the house, thinking mother would have heard the crash the metal, wood and my body made when it hit the ground.
I wasn't mistaken. I heard the pounding of feet on the dirt, my mother's eyes wide and frantic-searching.
"Esme!" She screamed when she saw me.
"Mum." I choked back. Tears clouding my vision.

My father was called home; he was the one who moved the timber off my arm. I was horrified when I saw my twisted arm. Blood had seeped through onto my lucky coat. It was ruined.
I was taken to the nearest hospital. Normally we didn't like to go the doctors, it was expensive. But what ever my mother couldn't fix was classified serious enough for proper medical attention.
I remember half walking, half being carried into the small room. Lot's of nurses came to see me, but I was diagnosed with only a broken arm.

A doctor came into the room. He was beautiful.
I remember even in my twelve year old eyes I had never seen anybody so handsome.
His face was angelic, blonde-white hair framed his face. His smile was gentle, full of care and worry.
I knew that in his hands I would be safe.

He smiled at me, the gesture reaching his big golden eyes. He placed some pills on the table, checked my hospital charts and then said "You are a very beautiful young girl and that arm should heal in no time." His voice was like music. A lullaby. It tinkled and charmed.
He left the room after that. I never found out his name.

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Written by me. Beckaroni. –sighs- but if you stay tuned I guarantee very epic chaps indeed.
Our first group story. Fingers crossed –secretly hopes she hasn't stuffed it already.- Thanks for reading and if you review you WILL receive some free novelty pencils –the patterned kind.
Becky, Sam, Meagan-order of who's writing XD
Sam's profile: i_love_the_emo_corner ( . instead of _ )

Meagan's profile: meagan_the_emo_kid ( . instead of _ )

My profile: _Nervous_Laugh_ ( . instead of _ )

Review please.