Disclaimer: Esme and her story, and all other Twilight characters, belong to Stephenie Meyer
A/N: First fanfic. Kind of overly dramatic, I know, but I couldn't help it. It was a little confusing to write like this (as in "I am running" instead of "I ran"), so if I made a few grammatical mistakes, I'm sorry. Tell me if there are any factual mistakes as well, and please review with any advice! Thanks.
I am running.
Running from what, I do not entirely know. All I know is that I have to get away before I break down. I am running so hard, so fast; the fastest I have ever gone, and with each step I feel my heart getting heavier and heavier as I fall part. I push my way in a mad daze through the mess of weeds and bracken towards the edge of the cliff.
Run, Esme. Just get away. Just get away and you'll be fine. Anything to stop the pain.
I burst through the trees, tears streaking down my face as I stare, quivering, at the beautiful landscape in front of me. I make the mistake of looking back at the town, and I force myself to turn away. There's no going back. There are too many memories.
Trembling, I fall to my knees and stare at the bright blue sky, and I am swept back to five days ago...
"Esme, I'm so happy for you!" Susannah says, laughing. I am lying down on my bed, exhausted, rocking my newborn baby in my arms. Just looking at him sets my heart on fire. I love him so much it terrifies me. He is part of me. Part of who I am. I feel a tear slide down my cheek as I look into his bright eyes.
"Oh, he's so beautiful! Let me hold him, Esme! Such a beautiful baby boy. As beautiful as his mother…"
I feel my throat choke up as I remember.
"Do you feel that, Lord?" I whisper, my voice shaking with tears as I clutch at my heart, "do you feel my pain?"
It all comes out now. The well of agony I have been storing up spills over, and I let it. I let it flow out, and the memories it holds hurt so much that my nails dig into the soft palm of my hand, drawing blood.
"Why me?" I whimper, drowning in self-pity. Years of torture, years of abuse, years of agony, and when I finally find hope and happiness in my life it is extinguished in three days. I can't help but hate the world for doing this to me. It isn't fair. It isn't right.
I pound my fists against the soft dirt, moist from yesterday's rain. "Three days!" I scream, clawing at the dirt, "Three!" I don't want to stop. I can't stop. I want to keep hitting the dirt, keep hurting it, keep pouring my life of troubles into it until it can feel what I feel. And with each punch I feel a bit of the immediate anger seeping out, going away, until I am calm enough to stop. But I am still angry.
I hate the world. I hate it. It is so cheerful today, so bright and sunny. And it is killing me. It should be mourning for me, with me. How can I live in this falsely cheerful world when my baby is gone?
Immediately the thoughts which have been tormenting me for the past two days since his death, the thoughts both a terror and a relief, come to me again. They ring clear in my mind.
But you don't have to live, Esme. You don't have to live.
I don't have to live...but I do. I have to keep going, I have to-
But that's why you came here. To stop hurting. So you wouldn't feel. Wouldn't see. You wouldn't have to pretend. It would be fast, you would not feel the pain. And all you have to do is jump.
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, a voice reminds me of my cousin, Susannah. But the other voice, the stronger one, pushes it back, telling me to focus.
I stand up shakily, taking a step towards the edge and numbly looking down. Usually the drop would make me dizzy with terror, but not anymore. It is almost welcoming. All I can think of is the overwhelming pain in my heart.
Just jump, Esme…You won't even feel the pain. How can it be worse than the pain you feel right now?
Yes. There it is. The point I had been telling myself over and over as I argued in my mind. I take another step…
Just jump, Esme.
I close my eyes, thinking of my baby, one foot hovering in the open air…
Jump.