August 15, 1921
Diary of Esme E̶v̶e̶n̶s̶o̶n̶ Platt
Dear Diary,
It burns. It burns so badly. It's like that beautiful doctor shoved a burning pyre down my throat. God, he's beautiful. He's the only thing that distracts me from the burn. He said his name was Carlisle, his son's name was Edward, and that everything will be fine. As of now, it hasn't been fine. He forced me to kill an innocent creature. Well, not forced, more begged. I felt so guilty, but it made the burn dull. Now it burns just as bad as that first night, maybe even worse. Why didn't he just let me die? I don't want to seem ungrateful, but life would be so much easier if I were dead. What is this, another chance for Charles to find me again? Maybe I should just give this new life a chance. He did say the burn, or "thirst", would wean. Edward said I'd be able to handle myself if he found me again.
This morning, The fifth since I got here, I found a book laid on my bed with a note. "Hope you enjoy this as much as I," it read, written in t̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶d̶o̶c̶t̶o̶r̶'̶s̶ Carlisle's artfully messy script. Next to it was a set of clothes and a lipstick similar to the one I'd always worn. Charles always loved that lipstick... So I threw it away. Edward found it funny, though I'm not sure how he knew.
The book was titled "Pride and Prejudice", and it was lovely. I'd meant to get a copy years later, but Mother believed I should've followed other pursuits. Husbandry, for one. I felt a strange kinship to Elizabeth. She had other things to worry about. As do I, though maybe I'd be open to the whole marriage idea now. Oh, I shouldn't be having these thoughts. But oh they are so hard to repress. It's not like they're realistic, anyway. How could a God like him find me attractive? I'd never been called pretty, and I doubt that would start now. Especially from him.
I guess it's time for me to retire this entry. T̶h̶e̶ ̶g̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶d̶o̶c̶t̶o̶r̶ Carlisle is home and says he wants to talk to me. Maybe I'll write a little tomorrow if I've nothing to do. Wish me luck.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry this entry was so short, I didn't believe that much would have happened within the first few days. Some of the details may be a bit off, but I tried to be as realistic as possible. Oh, DISCLAIMER: ALL THE CHARACTERS, THEIR HISTORIES, AND THE TWILIGHT UNIVERSE BELONG TO STEPHENIE MEYER. I CAN STAKE NO CLAIM TO THEM. HAPPY NOW? MERRY CHRISTMAS.