Tattered Words

by TheDoctorIsSick

Set in the early 1800's, the tragic story of Edward Cullen is recounted in letters he has scrawled out while imprisoned in an unknown prison with the hopes of finding their way to the only person that gives him a reason to survive--Isabella Swan.

If these letters are ever to find you, may they not find you as you find them; tattered, worn, and yellowed from time and exposure. Overlook their appearance for my sake, Bella, as you would overlook the frayed clothing and filth I might wear before you. In many ways I am these letters; or rather, they are an extension of me, the spindle of a spool of thread that has unwound itself willingly, humbly, desperately, and to an unknown end. Bella, what you see before you is nothing more than my soul. It must be so, for where I compose these words there is no hope of you finding me and justly so—I have failed in my quest to find you. So this will be my penance, sitting in this tomb, surrounded by damp despair, breathing in dust collected from a hundred ages past; scratching out these memories of you. I must purge them, Bella! If I am ever to keep my sanity I must purge them.

So I write with the hope that this will someday find your eyes, that you may look upon them, retracing the grooves in the spindle, winding me back to you, if only within the realm of memory, and remember that I was alive, that my heart once beat a pulse, and that it beat for you. Handle my soul delicately, Bella; place it in a warm, dry place. Let me out on nights when you cannot sleep. Let me become your prisoner.

I hope you are well. Do not try to find me.

I am dead.