On the morning that the last Cullen girl took her life, my heart grew cold and I became a shell of the man I once was. Who would have thought that Alice, the mischievous little imp with a constant mega-watt smile, dreamed of death?
Bella, the youngest had gone first. One night while everyone was asleep, she cut into her beautiful pale wrist, slicing her skin open with a razor blade. When they found her the next morning, soaking in her pink bath, it was too late. She was already gone. From down the block, I awoke to Esme Cullen's screams as she wept for her child in the early dawn hours. Three hours later my heart ached for Edward, as I watched the tears stream down his cheeks as he clutched the phone in his hand, listening to the voicemail Bella left behind.
Second was Victoria, who departed this world with her love. James couldn't live without her, so when she whispered her plans to him one night, he instantly agreed. That was the one that shocked me to my core; she not only took her life but my brother's as well. Two weeks later, I sat in my living room with my parents, listening to police tell the tale of how she shot herself first.
That was first shot that rang throughout the night, waking me from my slumber. A few seconds later my brother picked up the gun, and with shaky hands he put a bullet through his skull; that was when I entered a nightmare without even closing my eyes. I still remember how my breathing stopped when I heard the second shot, it was as though I knew my brother was gone.
The image of James soaking his blonde hair with his blood is all I see when I think of Victoria.
Third was the oldest, Rosalie. The most beautiful of them all. She was as vain as she was pretty. She refused to leave this world with her perfect body ruined by scars or a gunshot wound as the two before her did. She turned her father's car on and sealed the garage and her fate at the same moment. That was when I saw the strongest guy I've ever known fall to his knees.
I knew that it was only a matter of time before I had my turn. When they found the second two, I knew I had already lost the girl who stole my heart in the first grade. My time for heartbreak came when I found Alice lying lifelessly in bed. Thirty sleeping pills and a bottle of vodka decided her fate. Without one word, I ran out of that house of horrors.
There should be four broken souls sitting around my bedroom but there are only three. Together Edward, Emmett and I mourn for our girls. There may be no one here for Victoria but her pictures lie in a pile next to the spot where he always sat.
The Cullens changed the small town of Forks forever. It wasn't the death of their daughter that did it, but their arrival eleven years ago. Dr. Cullen was young and handsome, the secret desire of woman everywhere. On more than a few occasions I've heard my mother gossiping about how lucky his wife was. I wonder if she still thinks that same now.
Had it not been for Alice, Esme Cullen could have been the woman who entered my dreams at night. She was the type of woman young boys crushed on, not because she was pretty but because of how kind she was. Don't get me wrong, she was a MILF, but it was the way she would bake cookies for all the kids in the neighborhood and not just her own that made me love her. She was the perfect mother and it wasn't just for show. When I got older and would sneak into Alice's room, and from the closet or under the bed, I would see Esme kiss her daughter goodnight.
That's what makes the story much more tragic. How could four seemingly perfect girls with perfect parents do something so horrifying? No one may ever know. They're gone so they can't give us the answer. And that's where the pictures come in. it all started with a thought- "What if photographs that we took of our girls over time revealed something that we didn't see?"
And so we set to work separating the photos that Mrs. Cullen thought that we should have. "Something to help you remember my girls," she said. "So that you won't forget that they actually existed and weren't just a figment of your imagination." I laughed in her face at that one, there was no way in hell I could ever forget her daughters. Especially not the two who took away the most important things in my world.
And now spread throughout the room are photos of the four girls who are no more. Bella, Alice, Victoria and Rosalie, all beautiful in their own way.
Bella was the plain Jane of the sisters. There was nothing about her that stood out. She was the shy girl that hid in the corner of the room, a book always in hand. With long brown hair and huge brown eyes, she was usually overlooked when compared to her sisters. But she had the kind of subtle beauty that Edward was drawn to. It was obvious to everyone that she doubted his love for her. I would have doubted that love, too, had I not heard him rant about the way he felt when he was around her. His eyes were usually glossy as he thought of it. To say the least, Edward was blessed in the looks department. His emerald green eyes and odd colored bronze hair made girls swoon whenever he walked past, and I just wanted to punch him in the face. Not because I was jealous of the attention, but because I was afraid that one day Alice would see him the way the other girls did.
Alice was the one who was so full of life. Sometimes I would expect her to break out in song and dance but she never did. Her beauty captivated me from the moment I saw her twirl around in circles, her long dark hair fanning out, as she pretended to be a princess one day during recess. I ran to her and asked to be her prince. I thought she would instantly accept my proposal, so I was caught by surprise when she pushed me away and said she could rule the kingdom on her own.
From that moment on, I was under her spell. Whenever I looked into those deep blue eyes, the contents of my heart spilled out. I told her everything; there were no secrets that I kept from her. She let me enter her world, but I didn't know as much as I thought I did. The last time I saw her, she was smiling for the first time since Bella died. I thought she was slowly becoming her old self again. I should have looked into it deeper, because now I wonder if she was happy because she was going to join her sister.
Victoria was the wild child. The one who, had she lived, would have crashed Dr. Cullen's car after she'd stolen it in a desperate attempt to run away from this small town. I always believed that she was secretly a dreamer. She had to be, the way my brother talked about her with such wonder. James was obsessed with her. He wrote her love poems and would sneak out to the Cullens' house more times than the rest of us. Maybe that was why he was given his fate, because he was so captivated by the red headed siren whose song called out to him. Often times my brother would confide to me that her eyes spoke to him; that if you looked deep into the green you would see the fear that she hid from everyone but him.
While Alice used to dream of a world where she reigned as a princess, her sister, Rosalie, was the one who should have been one. I used to think that she was the next Grace Kelly, and that one day the prince of some faraway nation would sweep her off her feet and take her to live somewhere else. That way my girl would be the most beautiful of the sisters. Rosalie is the reason that I even met my best friend Emmett. We looked so much alike he thought she was my sister and approached me one day in hopes that I could tell him how to impress her. By that time, I had been invited to a few birthday parties at the Cullen household and knew enough about Rosalie that I could help him. A few days later we learned that he didn't even need any advice. The moment she laid her blue eyes on him, and saw his huge smile, she was in love. After that, Alice would complain to me about how Rosalie wouldn't shut up about how cute Emmett's dimples were.
Four unique girls, different in both appearances and personalities. They weren't born to the Cullens but adopted, all at different ages. Maybe it was their pasts that made them the way they were. We never knew how they came to be placed in foster care, but over the years, they would occasionally stare into space as though they were thinking of their former lives. We may have heard some tidbits of what life before the Cullens was like but not enough to form a full story. The only details we have are vague. All four were adopted around the same time. Bella was two, Alice only three, Victoria and Rosalie were the same age at four. Although not much is known, I don't believe that one can conclude that their pasts drove them to suicide for I doubt that they came from similar backgrounds.
The next theory would be that something in the Cullen household led them to it, but that, too, is impossible and extremely doubtful. Secrets may lie behind closed doors, but I've been on the other side more than enough times to know that the Cullens truly were the perfect family.
Finally, I stop torturing myself with ridiculous possibilities long enough to stare down at the picture I'm holding onto for dear life. The big blue eyes of my first love stare up at me and a tear falls down my cheek."Why did you leave me?" I silently ask the picture of the girl I once loved, as I inhale a shaky breath. She doesn't answer; she continues to stare up at me, her smile mocking me. I ball my hand into a fist, effectively crumbling the picture. "Who's smiling now?" I wonder.
Those were the wrong things to say because, of course, they make me think of the Journey song "Who's Crying Now," and that reminds me of the time I once danced with Alice to that song at a middle school dance.
I lean back and cover my face with my hands as I deeply inhale the warm air, breathing in the sweet scent of Alice's perfume on my palms. Earlier that day I sprayed Chanel no. 5 on my pillow so I could smell my girl while I was sleeping, and some must have gotten on my hands. It's almost as though her memory stalks me, refusing to let me pretend she never existed.
Something light lands in my lap and slowly I look down. There lies a picture of James with his arm wrapped around the evil sister, Victoria. I scowl and throw it across the room. "Who put that there?" I ask the other two guys in the room.
Edward didn't even look up, he just continued to stare down at the picture of his beloved. I thought that he would have been the least depressing out of us since his girl has been dead longer, but instead he's the worst off. Well, since he isn't dead, he's the worst off after James.
Emmett looks at me apologetically. "Sorry," he mumbles. "It got mixed in with my pile and I was putting it in-" his voice breaks off not wanting to say my brother's name. "I was trying to put it in the other pile." he continues. He goes back to stare down at pictures of his would-be fiancée, unaware that anger boils from a deep, dark place inside of me.
"His name is James," I yell. Both of my friends turn to me.
"We know that," Emmett says.
"Then say his name," I tell him. "He existed, he was real, he was my brother. Say his name." I point to the fourth corner, the empty corner where a lonely pile sits. "It's not the other pile, it's James' pile."
Finally Edward speaks for the first time since he entered my room. "Jasper, calm down," he whispers.
"No!" I shout. "I won't calm down. I can't." I put a hand in my hair and tug on the blonde strands, hurting myself physically to distract myself from the emotionally pain that will most likely be the death of me. "How can I calm down when she," with my other hand I pick up a picture of Alice and hold it out to them, "killed herself without coming to me and telling me what was wrong?" I throw the picture down. "Why was James the lucky one? Why did Victoria come to him and tell him what she was going to do? The fucking lucky bastard got to die by her side."
The tears stream down my face and I stop pulling out my hair as I wipe them away. I'm ashamed of them, ashamed that I'm not numb to the pain, to the world.
"So you want to die too?" Edward whispers. I know he's not asking me if I want to die like Alice but he's asking if I wish for death like he does.
I stare at him with my jaw clenched, my chin slightly quivering. "Is that even a question?"
"Good to know I'm not the only one." This is Emmett's half-assed attempt at a joke, to lighten the air but Edward and I both know that part of him is serious.
"What's next?" Edward asks.
I shrug. "I don't know. There are only two options that I can think of; one, we can just give up and die, or two, we can continue to put the pieces of their lives together and see if that helps us move on."
"Teenage suicide, don't do it," Emmett whispers.
Edward smiles. "Option two it is"
I nod. "Just..." I try to think of how to express what I'm feeling. "Just say his name; say all of their names. Because if we pretend as though they didn't exist, then our love for them doesn't exist. And without that, what are we?"