Darkness

I don't own Twilight in any way whatsoever

Cold… so cold…

My heart is bursting while the rain falls, cloaking me in my own little world. A big stain marked my favorite shirt. In just an hour my life was smashed and crumbled while I just sat and watched.

Running to what I used to call home took a long time. The rain hid my tears from the people who stopped to stare at me.

I'm so cruel, how could I have just sat there? Why did this have to happen? So many questions with no answers…

My life kept getting darker.

As I burst through my front door silence greeted me. My husband had left long ago, and I had no kids to help with their homework, pick out a cute outfit for them…

I wondered around my house looking at its every inch. Then I entered my favorite room, the kitchen. I'd spend hours cooking in here. Christmas was the best time of year in here baking all those cookies, tarts, cake, and other sweets. Now I have no more need for those things. I have no need for anything anymore.

The counter was as clean as I left it. It shined with maybe a few bread crumbs on it. I started opening the drawers, to see all my tools.

Pain is becoming too great; I know what to do… yes that knife here will do nicely. I'd prefer a gun to do it quicker but beggars can't be choosers... The blade is so cold; my life wasn't as long as I'd picture it. Thought maybe I'd have my own family… with kids to surround myself with. But that was also smashed; I've lost my will to live after what the doctor had confirmed with me.

My child was dead.

There isn't anything else in this world for me. My hair dripped sticking to my face and my clothes clung to what curves I had.

My hand shook making the blade reflect the lighting. For a second I saw my eyes in the blade. They were puffy red, obviously of crying, but something more. I didn't want to die by slitting my writs or throat. That thought is just not my style really. And after all I've used this knife to do something I had once loved. It'd a shame to stain it with my sorrow.

Taking a small step I replaced the knife back into its place along with my other knives. Sliding the drawer back I rested on the counter.

Tear flooded harder, faster and more as I thought of what to do.

After all, my father moved to Maine after mother died. He stopped writing me after a few months. Heard he wanted to just forget his past, I'm not sure if he's dead or not. Francis had died about six years ago from war. How he looked so cute in his navy uniform…

At nineteen I married Howard; he was my high school sweetheart. We went through a lot together and just married one day. The happiness didn't last longer than five years. Once I turned twenty-three we tried to have children. It took a long time but after two years of trying I found myself pregnant. Soon I'd be twenty-six and a new mother finally starting to enlarge my family.

Before I had a chance to tell Howard my news he started to become more involved in his work. Back then it wasn't proper for a housewife to call out on her husband and demand to know what he was up to. I'm very sure he might have had an affair. But Howard was too nice to do that so I thought maybe he started up with his drinking problem again.

I was right; drinking was what just made the first hole in my life. He would spend all of our money that I wanted to save so we could buy our first official house. Our apartment was getting too small if you ask me. When I told Howard my wonderful news he was ecstatic. He came home with gifts and flowers for me every day.

Life was amazing as my belly started to grow. The first day I felt the baby kick my joy bubbled over. It couldn't get much better than that.

All until Howard began acting strange once again. What could possibly be wrong?

Money was low for The Panic of 1893 had been struck on America. Times were horrible with less food, people couldn't afford their homes, jobs being lost, and our economy might put us out on the street.

One day Howard decided he needed to go north since jobs in Nevada weren't very well. Anything could help and he wrote to me at least once a week. Then they just came if I was lucky, once every few weeks, which made me, start to feel lonely.

My twenty-sixth birthday had passed while I was at my seventh month or pregnancy. Now I'm about two weeks away from my due date. My mother before she died, god rest her soul, had always yelled at me saying I shouldn't "bare that mans child" unless I wanted to lose her respect. So I decided to run, I wrote to Howard letting him know, and left mother a note about my decisions. Getting Howard's answer partly broke my heart. It contained his wedding ring inside, which meant he didn't want me anymore…

With that I ran away to California with little pride I had left, for mother was right about Howard, but I wouldn't give this child up. Only a little over a week life in my pregnancy, after I found a place to rent I wept about Howard leaving me. How could he do that to me? I was faithful to him throughout our entire marriage.

This baby I didn't want to admit before, but I will now, that I knew I'd love this child more than Howard or my life itself in fact. This child would also be the only family left to me, with Francis gone, father no longer wrote to me. He stopped about three days ago, for he had moved away since mother died and he seemed like he wanted to forget what he left behind in the west.

The day had finally come, tear of happiness consumed my time as the birth went on. That would not be the only tears I'd shed in the following days.

My baby boys' name I decided would be Gabriel. He was such a strong babe and handsome too. Gabe was the apple of my eye and he had filled my heart completely. All the sorrow I went through the weeks before this day had vanished.

Two days later the doctor came in to speak to me, for today I'd be released from the hospital. He asked to keep Gabe over night for he was acting a little fussy and wanted to make sure he'd be ok. I agreed for I only wanted the best for my little boy.

The next day I went back to pick up Gabriel. As I waited outside, I saw the door opening so I stood. Walking over to the door I noticed on a table… a small lump had a blanket covering it. No… no it couldn't be…

His head hung low as he told me news that just took the light from my world. In the following days I wore my black and mourned at the burial of my son. After a few hours I lay across the earth which was still freshly dug and smooth. I got up and slid my fingertips across the tombstone and traced his name. Mumbling a good-bye and I love you I got up, and started to run.

That is how I came to be here now, in my kitchen… now running once again out the door. I just followed the road. Suicide isn't what I wanted, but there just wasn't anything left for me on this earth. This path led up and up, soon I realized I was on a cliff.

Thinking of my son as he was first born, and then the doctor walking out of the room, and last his grave… I just gave in. With a mighty leap I jumped off the cliff.

The pain was little, and I could feel my life starting to slip away quickly.

I could barely feel hands lifting me and setting me into a car.

With just a small ounce of life left in me I felt an amazingly cold hand on my cheek. Someone whispered in my ear that he was going to have my live. Then a fire started, it seared through me for days.

That is my story, and how I came to be what I am now, Esme Cullen. My only regret is I cannot have my own children. Other than that I couldn't be happier with the second chance in life I'd been blessed with.

This is how I see Esme's past, it just came to mind and I started typing.

I hope you all like it! It felt deep to write and I know it doesn't have humor, at least I don't think so?

Anyway read and review(: it's much appreciated.