Disclaimer: All characters in this story belong to Stephanie Meyer- the brilliant author, who I envy of her muses. I simply follow her... anyway; the characters belong to her.
AN: yet another one-shot--or at least it is right now. I might continue to chase this idea of Elizabeth Mason and Edward Mason/Cullen. Written by I, the WiccenLilly. Cheesy wave Why are all my stories revolving around death? Have you noticed a pattern?
Death. This was the word and notion that haunted my dreams. This is the ending of life- was death. It happened to all of us- it even happened to the legends. Then why- oh why, did it have to come in great waves? If we always except and understand death, if it is always there as an undercurrent to our lives- why did it come now, in the form of the Spanish Influenza? And why was it Spanish? Why did it have to hit my family- my Edward? The only one left of my family- my bronze haired son. He would die soon, I saw it in the looks the doctors gave him as they passed- the medicine they gave him, the sympathetic looks they gave me. He would die. He could have been a child prodigy- with a little more practice; he would have mastered the piano. My lovely Edward, so handsome and smart, yet innocent. Why did the a-cursed influenza take the young and innocent.
Hope. There is no hope left for those of us in this area of the hospital. None at all- fate placed my Edward near me- to taunt me. His father- my husband-is gone, and he is the only hope left in the Mason family. The only hope for this family to survive, and yet there is no hope. I crave water, and cry out- so quietly that I do not even hear myself. A doctor turns sympathy in his eyes- his golden eyes. Such an unusual color…
"Elizabeth," he said, glancing at a chart.
"Water," I tried, and found a sound escaping my lips. The doctor reached for the bucket of cool water kept near my bed, and pulled the dipper out- brimming with water. This doctor… what was his name? I found I could never remember anything of importance anymore. He leaned over, and placed the wooden dipper to my parched mouth, I tried to drink.
"Elizabeth, staying alive for your son. You are a brave woman, I admire your perseverance," he murmured to me. I remembered then, this was the doctor that crooned encouragement to his patients- this was Dr. Cullen.
"Dr. Cullen," I replied, barely, "when fate offers us a dream beyond all hope of life- do you accept?" He did not respond. I tried again, "When fate gives you life, provides for it, then takes it, what do you do?" I realized my mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out. I was tired. I would try again tomorrow. He could help my Edward- I felt it.
Dreams. They haunt you when you wake, and when you sleep. I was asleep when this one struck. It was Dr. Cullen, only he was leaning over my Edward. He was leaning in toward his neck, and his mouth was almost touching Edward's neck. I screamed, and awoke. At least, I hoped this was awake, everything was shrouded with a crimson red, with shadows of the mourning black. Was this death? Could it be that I was dead? Was I to be forced to an eternity of red and black? My Edward- I had not been able to save my Edward…
"Elizabeth," I awoke, and found myself staring at my son. Edward. I had failed him- how could I explain that. Then I saw that he was not sad, but merely thoughtful. He stood at the edge of a meadow, barely in the shade of the trees surrounding it. He was staring at a girl. The girl's long brown hair swirled in the sun, and her arms were open and excepting, she smiled. Then she turned, and saw Edward. Her smile faded, and she reached out her arm toward him. He smiled, hesitantly he stepped into the sunlight. As he moved from the shade, his skin reflected the sunlight, as a million minute diamonds would do. The girl stared in shock, then slowly...
"Elizabeth," This time I knew I was awake, for Dr. Cullen was leaning over me. I stared at him, and realized that the sun was shining through the window, and hitting my bed, and that Dr. Cullen had placed his hand in the patch of sunlight. His hand glittered, and I gasped. Dr. Cullen looked, and quickly moved his hand. I knew what he was. He was a vampire. The dream of him leaning over Edward, the dream of Edward sparkling in the sunlight... This man could save Edward. I began to feel a tug at my soul, and new my time was limited. I looked at Edward, then at Dr. Cullen. I repeated the gesture.
"Dr. Cullen," I said, weakly. I remembered his entire name then. "Carlisle Cullen, you must save him," I looked at my son, then at Dr. Cullen, my eyes pleading.
"I will do everything in my power," his eyes betrayed him- anything but... I glared, weakly.
"You must do everything in your power, Dr. Cullen, I glanced at his mouth, his abnormally pale skin, the patch of sunlight on my bed, then the cloudy sky outside my window," Absolutely everything..." My voice faded. His eyes lit with understanding.
"I will save him," Dr. Cullen said, quietly. I nodded
"Thank you," I mouthed. I felt the tug more strongly, and released myself to whatever personal heaven or hell I had built for myself...