Not being Twilight's biggest fan, I was surprised that I had inspiration for this oneshot. However, though the story itself is not to my taste, (most of) the characters and histories are good, so I have focused my attention solely on them. Notice Bella is not mentioned. Apologies for those of you who like Bella, I deem her not exactly worthy of admiration when compared to heroines like Elizabeth Bennett or Lyra Belacqua.
Cloud932, if you make one negative comment I will throttle you. I know you do not like Twilight. I am not making you read this story ;)
This is from the point of view of Carlisle, whom I believe to be the most admirable of the Cullen family.
You Learn To Live With Your Thirst
You learn to live with thirst. You have endured endless agony in silence to avoid being found by the men you once called your friends. You can survive a slight prickling in your throat. You can survive the drawn out agony of dying of thirst, with no amount of water able to quench your desperation.
Sometimes you allow self pity to cloud your sharp mind. Memories wash over you of the life you once had. Possibilities agonise you of the life you could have had. Your thirst is the reminder of the life you do have.
You try to see it as a blessing. You note that you will take pleasure in more books than any man to ever walk the earth. You take pleasure in knowing that you will ultimately save more lives than any other doctor. You atone for your sinful existence in the knowledge that you are making the most of an impossible situation, using it for good, not evil.
This is the pain you are living with.
You do not awake from sleep after a horrifying nightmare. Your life simply is an ever wakeful nightmare. You are a nightmare.
You wonder if it would not be better to have become one of the creatures that you had assumed your kind to be: stripped of emotion with nothing but savage hunger and lust for company in your life of solitude. It would not hurt, if you were nothing but hunger.
But you are not.
You are able to hear the cries of helpless humans acutely. You are able to recollect how you once cried. You remember too much. You forget nothing that you would banish from your thoughts if you could. It is too much.
You learn to live with your thirst.
Hidden in royal towers among those who are proud of their nature, you learn to live with your thirst.
You remember how lonely it is every time you hear the laughter of friends enjoying one anothers' company. Your companions are merely the ghostly memories of those you saved from death – the curse you would ultimately consider the kindest of gifts.
You save more lives. You wish more and more to be saved yourself. You save more lives. You wish more and more that someone was here to comfort you. You save more lives. You learn to live with your thirst.
You see him. Unseeing eyes of pale green and bronze hair damp with sweat. You know he will die. You hear the mother's words of desperation. You promise to save him. You save him. Blood seeps into your mouth and for a moment you do not wish to stop, but you do. You release him from your grip and hold him as he screams in agony. He will learn to live with his thirst too.
You see her. Broken heart displayed unwillingly on her still face. Angelic beneath the bruises, you love her for the sake of loving, and you find it is more addictive than blood. You save her. You save her because you want her with you. You save her only to hear her voice.
You learn to live with your thirst.
You reach down to the exposed neck.
You part your lips, tasting venom.
You pierce the soft flesh.
You feel her writhe feebly in protest, despite her broken body.
You hear her cries.
You watch as she opens her eyes to this new world. This terrible world.
You realise what you have done to her.
You die a little more.