Hearts stop working
I looked besides me, for as far as the muscles of my eyes allowed me to. I was situated in the bed next to my twin brother's. Despite of the fact we were of the same age, he took care of me as if he was the oldest. Now he was dying, as well as I. Since a few days I knew what it was like to be an orphan, but it wasn't something I thought of on my death-bed. I would be reunited with my parents soon enough. The only thing human beings think about when dying is living. The doctor was young and honest, he knew as well as us that we were going to die. I found myself to be in the death room. A death room in 1918. Chicago. Reason: Spanish flu. He told my brother Edward he would help him. Besides the fact that he had already told us nobody could help us. What happened next, what I saw, I cannot remember. I don't remember anything from before my death. Or my failed rebirth. How it happened is another thing that's erased from my memory. I can feel what happened, I can remember some things by feelings. Feelings from my past life, my real life. What I am now is neither living nor dead.
Edwards birth, his second one, was perfect. Like it was supposed to be. Doctor Carlisle Cullen was careful an extremely talented. A talent that took centuries of discipline. At the point of my birth, something went wrong, terribly wrong. I believe I'm the only one. I'm a vampire, and still I'm something else. My brother doesn't eat like you humans do, he drinks blood. I need both food as well as blood. I feel the hunger for food, but it makes me sick. Our kind isn't supposed to eat. We drink blood, no human blood, animal blood. I've been seventeen for over a hundred years and I don't know how long it will go on. Normally our kind doesn't die by itself, it's a danger we do not know. Except for me. I get sick when my body suddenly comes to terms with the fact that it's been alive like this for over a century. I have a heart that beats, unlike my family. I do not have their strength, nor speed. The poison of the bite didn't come through enough to make me like them. My blood seemed to reject Carlisle's poison. I do share the gifts my brother has with music. I'm a danger to my family. My scent is human, although it's hardly noticeable. My blood is still human blood. For them I'd be a treat. At the beginning I had to lock myself away from them, trying not to tempt them. But my family are so-called vegetarians, and they managed to live with me. That's we way we try to live.