A/N: Thanks for the SUPPORT so far guys! It means a lot! Please keep those REVIEWS coming!!!
Disclaimer: I do not own the TWILIGHT Saga. That belongs to Stephenie Meyer.
*** WARNING: This story contains child abuse… Mild as it may be, if you cannot stomach this sort of material DO NOT read.***
Chapter Two – Discovering Where I Went Wrong
---Carlisle's POV---
-June 20, 1987-
I never felt such pride and joy until I held my baby boy for the first time in that hospital room. My wife was asleep in the hospital bed as I stood holding the tiny baby wrapped in a soft blue blanket in my arms. When I first saw him cleaned up after his birth I had to laugh, my son already had a full set of hair, the most bronze hair I'd ever seen. It also had a natural wave to it. My son had yet to open his eyes for me as I held him; I was desperate to see what color his eyes were. When he was born and the doctors performed the natural duties every baby goes through after birth, Edward had screamed and cried but he stubbornly kept those eyes of his squeezed shut. Now I stood by the window as twilight crept in upon us, rocking my son gently in my arms, studying every feature in his angelic face just reveling in the amazement I felt being a new father.
Ever so softly I felt a nudge against my arm and looked down. I noticed that Edward was stretching his legs out against the blanket that kept them imprisoned. I heard a quiet grunt of frustration and watched as my son's eyes fluttered and opened slowly. As his eyes met mine I felt my heart skip a beat. Finally, there was a connection between me and my son. And he had the most gorgeous eyes a child could have; they were emerald green and ever so bright, reminding me of a marble. This child I held possessed indescribable beauty in physical appearance. He would break a lot of daddies' hearts one day… Edward continued to stare at me and a small crooked grin appeared on his lips as his eyes brightened even more. At that moment my heart began beating erratically – how could I have created a child this beautiful, so innocent? I knew in that instant that Edward was my little miracle. I would never let harm come his way and I would always love him unconditionally.
As I softly planted a kiss upon his angelic lips, I whispered, "Welcome to the world, my son."
I should have known that month after he was born that Maria regretted having him… She refused to hold Edward, never even acknowledging him. It was, I, who got up in the ungodly hours of the middle of the night to tend to our son's needs. I guess I should just be thankful she took care of him during the day while I worked my hospital shifts. The doctors had said Maria was suffering from post partum depression. HA! I wish that would have been the case… but it certainly wasn't. But all those nights Maria refused to tend to Edward only helped the bond between my son and I form, and I would forever cherish that bond.
-December 23, 1987-
The hospital had been busy with patients, non-stop: sledding accidents, wreckless drivers causing car accidents, and people with the flu bug going round. I only had two hours left of my shift before I was to go to the mall to finish picking up Edward's Christmas presents. My son was now six months old and learning to sit up by himself, I was so darn proud of my little guy. He was growing up so quickly but I couldn't help but smile and praise him at his achievements, futile as they may be. For Edward, each small achievement became a milestone in his childhood. However, my son was also teething. His first tooth had popped out yesterday but he had two more that were to pop out any day now, so days and nights were filled with hysterical crying from the pain he felt in his mouth. My wife was giving up with her patience around Edward right now. She told me that no infant orajel, chew toy, or rubbing of his gums worked so she decided to just set him in his swing and let him cry since nothing seemed to comfort him. I had a hard time accepting this, for when I got home in the evenings and cradled my screaming son to my chest and gently soothed him, his cries would stop and he'd fall asleep to my finger rubbing his inflamed gums. I just figured it was daddy's job to get Edward through his teething phase.
I was just about to go on break when I was paged to the front desk. I walked over and my colleague pulled me aside.
"What's up, Trace?" I asked the elder resident, Dr. Trace Jameson. He had been a doctor here in this hospital for over twenty years and counting.
"Carlisle, your wife just came in with your son. They're in exam room four."
"What's wrong? Are they okay?" I felt my adrenaline rushing in fear.
Trace shook his head, "Calm down, it's nothing serious. Your wife was changing your son and turned her back for a second and he rolled off the changing table. I've done an x-ray, he has a slight fracture. I'm thinking three weeks of his arm in a cast and then Edward will be as good as new."
I nodded and quickly headed to the exam room. My fear subsided when I saw my son asleep in my wife's arm, his tiny right arm supported in a splint until Trace fitted it in a cast.
"How did he fall?" I asked Maria as I sat down in the chair beside her.
"I dropped the new diaper I was putting on him and I bent down to pick it up. He must have tried to pull himself into a sitting position because when I caught him as he tumbled off the ledge he was in fetal position."
I looked at her wearily, "If you caught him, how did his arm break?"
"It made contact with changing table and I guess the force broke his bone."
I shook my head, "Please, Maria, be more cautious next time. You know how fragile a baby is…"
She rolled her eyes at me, "I know that, Carlisle. God! I just made a mistake, excuse me for not being perfect!"
Anger rose in my chest at her sarcasm, "Mistake or not, it caused our son a broken arm. Just be more aware next time. That's all I'm asking."
It was memories like this one that made me want to kick myself in the ass. How could I believe her lies? Yes, I know accidents with babies falling off their changing tables do occur, but Maria was a child abuser; I witnessed that first hand, what did she do to that child to make him break his arm at six months old? I could guess, but I'd never know…
-May 11, 1988-
Yesterday, the day before Maria's first Mother's Day celebration, we found out the most glorious of news… she was three months along with another baby. We would be having another child in November. We were both ecstatic! We had started Edward in daycare when he turned eight months old and now Maria was in school majoring in Applied Behavioral Science, studying to be a social worker. Her school day ended around five in the evening and she would pick Edward up at six. I got off at six-thirty and was home by seven. Now, with our schedules nearly matching, we all ate our family meal at seven sharp.
Throughout today, Mother's Day, Maria talked non-stop about the new baby and how excited she was for him/her to come. Edward and I had given Maria her gifts, flowers, and cards– she seemed appreciative – but what confused me was the lack of interest she had in Edward this day. I would have thought she would be interacting with our son constantly for this was her first special holiday with him. But she did not… She acted like he didn't even exist.
As my wife flipped through endless infancy catalogues preparing to start buying things for the new baby, I took my son outside and walked him down to the park and enjoyed a beautiful day with him.
The moment I noticed my wife acting like Edward did not exist should have been a warning sign that something was going on. But foolishly I told myself that she was just overly excited about the new baby on the way and that took control of her mind. Maria nearly had a full-blown panic attack when she realized she was pregnant with Edward and almost aborted him… I never did understand, back then, how Maria had changed her feelings in eleven months from not wanting our first born child to suddenly wanting our second son… I understand now, but how could I have been so ignorant back then?
-November 29, 1988-
I sat at the foot of Maria's bed with Edward fast asleep in my arms and stared lovingly at my wife as she breastfed our newborn son, Emmett Alexander. He looked nothing like Edward had when he was born. Emmett had the blackest hair and the darkest of brown eyes I had ever seen. He was also a chubby little thing, but adorable none the less. I could already tell that he and Edward would look nothing alike. Emmett was much larger than Edward was when he was born. As Emmett fell asleep eating, I chuckled. As I studied my wife I realized how much more relaxed she seemed with Emmett in her arms than she ever appeared, even today, with Edward in her arms. Was it possible that she would show favoritism towards Emmett? Nah… I quickly pushed that thought from my mind.
"He's perfect," I heard my wife softly say as she lifted her gaze to mine. "We couldn't have done better. He's the most gorgeous baby I've ever seen."
"You're right. We've created two beautiful babies."
"Huh?" She expressed confusion but then the thought dawned on her, "Oh right… Edward. That would make two."
"Honey, are you all right? Why do you seem to favor Emmett over Edward? Edward's done nothing wrong to deserve this treatment from you?" I asked offended, as I defended the child in my arms.
She smiled affectionately, "I'm sorry, Carlisle. My mind is just numb. I just can't wrap my mind around the fact that we've got two perfect and healthy children." I noticed how she put the emphasis on two. "Can you bring Edward over and place him in my other arm? I would love to hold my little man, too?"
I smiled and nodded. There was the wife I knew and loved. As I walked around the bed heading to her free arm and gently laying Edward in the crook, I said, "He's very excited to meet his little brother."
"Did he say that?" she laughed.
"He sure did. He wants to give Emmy a hug and a kiss."
"Emmy?" Maria questioned.
"That's what Edward calls him since he can't say Emmett."
"It's catchy. I like it too."
I smiled, "Darling, you look exhausted. Why don't you catch some shut eye while the kids are asleep? I'll stay awake in case one of them needs something."
She nodded and closed her eyes, "Thanks, honey."
"No, thank you." She was already asleep as I placed a kiss on her forehead.
I just sat back in the chair next to her bed and studied the three most important people in my life and smiled at how gorgeous they all were.
I really was a stupid man! Clear as day warning signs had been shown the day of Emmett's birth. Maria showing favoritism, Maria forgetting they had two children – how could I have believed that she was just overwhelmed with joy? Why did it take my son's death to draw up these memories, these warning signs, to show me all the mistakes I made missing them? I could have prevented my son's death if I'd taken these warning signs seriously. God, why are you punishing me? Why show me how at fault I am for Edward's death?
-June 20, 1989-
Today was Edward's second birthday and my parents and Maria's parents were coming to celebrate. Along with Edward's neighborhood friend Bobby who had turned two last month. I was so infuriated with my wife. She had gone in for her math test this morning but texted me after saying she should stay at school to finish her biology lab. That lab wasn't due for another two weeks. So why did she choose her son's second birthday to work on the stupid project? This infuriated me beyond words. Her son didn't turn two years old everyday… she was missing a huge milestone in his development.
"Mama?" I heard Edward ask as he pulled at my shorts.
"Hey, buddy," I smiled as I picked him up and swirled him around in the air.
"Mama?" He asked again, wanting an answer. Edward was an intelligent child. He knew when his mother and I were being honest or dishonest with him. He despised when we beat around the bush with him, he wanted the answer given to him straight.
"I'm sorry, buddy, but mommy won't be here today. She had to stay at school and finish her work."
"But me… two. Mama here." His lips began quivering as tears filled his eyes and pooled over.
"I know she promised you, Edward. But mommy's school work needed to be done," I lied as I wiped the tears away. "But I'm here, buddy, and so are Emmett and Grammy and Grampy, and Meme and PopPop. We're all here to celebrate your second birthday, okay, Edward?"
"Otay, daddy."
I smiled and clapped my hands together, "All right, now that everybody's her, I think it's time we started Edward's second birthday party!" I heard the cheers from my family and waited till they died down to continue, "Edward, since it's your party, you can decide: Cake or presents first?"
His face lit up as he smiled brightly, jumping up and down clapping his chubby little hands together, as he exclaimed, "Cake! Cake! Cake!"
That was the day I officially knew that Maria favored Emmett over Edward. When Emmett reached his milestones, never once did Maria miss them. She had missed so many of Edward's, as did I, but that was because of my hospital shifts. It saddened me that unlike with Emmett, I never came home in the evenings to have Maria run up to me with a smile to tell me what Edward did new or discovered that day, but she certainly did with our second son Emmett. But for her to miss her firstborn's second birthday, that was the piece of the puzzle that was missing; She could care less how Edward developed, all she cared about was perfect little Emmett. I hated her for that and I still despise her for it. I love all my children evenly for they all brought different gifts with their personalities… how could Maria have despised her own flesh and blood so much?
-December 24, 1989-
I was coming home from a long, strenuous thirty-six hour shift from the hospital after a major interstate bridge had collapsed causing smashed cars, accidents, and lots of deaths and injuries. I had never been more excited to come home from a shift from the hospital than I was tonight – even if it was eleven' o'clock, and it had nothing to with tonight being Christmas Eve. As I opened the front the door I was greeted by the sight of my two-year-old son laying in fetal position on the bottom step with tears staining his cheeks, his shirtless body shivering from lack of heat. I glanced into the living room and saw my wife stretched out on the sofa with a blanket covering her, just stopping at the shoulders, as she watched America's Funniest Home Videos.
I immediately rushed over to my son taking off my jacket on the way. I gently shook his shoulder and watched as his eyes fluttered open.
"Daddy?" He asked as I picked him up and wrapped my fleece jacket around his trembling body.
"Edward, why were you sleeping on the stairs with no shirt on?"
"I bad boy, daddy. I wants warm shirt and said no mommy. She leaved me like this."
I stayed silent as Edward's sentence was processed in my brain but terror ran through my veins, "You wanted a warmer shirt on and your mother told you no?" My son nodded, "And she just left you in your room with no shirt on and didn't tuck you into bed."
"Yes, daddy."
"How did you get down here, buddy?"
"I follows mommy. I falled aseep here. I warm now, daddy. Thank you."
"You're supposed to be warm, buddy," I mumbled not loudly enough for my son to hear. "Well I'll make sure mommy never does something like this again, okay? It won't ever happen again. And I'm glad you're warmer now, Edward."
Edward nodded and smiled, tucking his head under my chin and wrapping his arms around my neck, "I sleepy, daddy."
I stood up with my child in my arms and walked up the stairs. I put him in warm pajamas and tucked him in. After kissing him goodnight and wishing him sweet dreams, I turned on his Tigger nightlight and shut the door gently behind me, hearing the soft snores from my son in his room. I went next door to the nursery and checked on my other son, who had turned one-year-old last month, and noticed in anger how he was fast asleep in a snug, fleeced onesie. What the hell was up with Maria and refusing to let our older son sleep in something warm during the harsh winter of Forks?
After kissing my baby boy on the forehead, I angrily made my way downstairs to confront my wife. I headed over to the television and turned it off.
"Hey, I was watching that!" Maria started but stopped when she saw the look on my face. "What's got a stick up your ass tonight?"
"What's got… I'll tell you what's up! I come home from a thirty-six hour shift only to find my son shivering and sleeping on the bottom step with tears on his cheeks while his brother is tucked in securely upstairs nice and warm. Care to explain that?" I spat at her with venom in my voice.
"That little brat was a terror tonight, not like you'd know since you're never around."
"Don't give me that bull. I'm the one to always put Edward to bed since you seem to always only want to do Emmett for some irrational reason."
"He wouldn't finish his dinner, he didn't get out of the bathtub when I told him to, and then when I go to put on his t-shirt he starts telling me no."
"He was cold, Maria. He wanted warm pajamas. Its twenty degrees out right now! How in the world could you put him in a t-shirt and then just leave him shirtless? You knew it was cold enough to dress Emmett properly."
"That brat just has himself wrapped around your finger, doesn't he? He's disobedient and throws tantrums, ones you never see. You don't know what he's really like! He kicked at me and hit me as I tried to get the shirt over his head. I had enough of it and told him to tuck himself in and I left the room. I had no idea he was going to follow me down here. He kept whining to me that he was cold and I told him to be quiet and get upstairs. But he didn't stop so I told him to wait there until you came home. He fell asleep waiting. It's warm down here, he was fine."
"You, being his mother, should have given him warmer pajamas when he asked for them. The least you could have done was wrapped a blanket around his body while he waited on the stairs for me." She huffed at me and rolled her eyes. I threw my hands in the air, "Don't you get it, Maria!? You're neglecting your OWN son. Why can't you accept the fact that we have two children… two small children that need their mother to tend to their needs. Edward is almost three years old. Get over yourself already. Edward is your son too."
"Neglectful? How can you think I am neglectful? Just because I let Edward throw his tantrum for one night and you're accusing me of being neglectful towards him? You have no right to accuse me of that. I admit I could have chosen a better way to handle his tantrum tonight. So I confess, I made a mistake. It won't happen again. Just don't accuse me of being neglectful."
"But it isn't just what happened tonight, Maria. Its how you've been with Edward his whole life. I know you didn't want him when we found out you were pregnant, but hasn't life been great with him in it?"
"Yes, it has, Carlisle," she answered me shortly.
"Then why must you treat him like second priority. You have a favorite child and it isn't Edward. You have to start treating him like you treat Emmett. Can you do that?"
"I'll need to start," I heard my wife murmur.
"What do you mean?"
"I was going to tell you this when you got home but then we got into this fight… I went to the doctor's today. I'm three months pregnant, Carlisle. The baby's due on July 22."
I seemed to cool off at the disclosure of her pregnancy, "Pregnant… another baby?" I whispered in awe.
Maria smiled and choked out with a sob, "Yeah, baby. Another one!" and ended with a huge smile.
"I hope this one's a girl… I need a baby girl."
"Me too… this pregnancy so far doesn't feel like it did with Edward and Emmett, hopefully that's a sign that we are having a girl."
"Promise me you'll treat Edward better? Soon you'll have three little ones you'll have to treat equally."
"I promise, Carlisle. I'll do better."
"Thank you, hun. Once you get to know him, you'll love Edward. He's so carefree and kind-spirited."
She smiled and nodded, "Let's go up to bed?" she suggested.
"Mmm," I moaned in agreement, I was extremely exhausted. "That's an excellent idea."
Was I just blind to find real fault in my wife? I found my child fucking shirtless and shivering from the cold passed out on the bottom step on the staircase and all I did was ask my wife to do better and treat him more fairly? Was I just a cold hearted bastard or was I truly that clueless to the evil person my wife is? And this was when Edward was only two? How did he put up with four additional years of torture? Had Maria truly hated Edward just for being born? God, now I felt sick to my stomach…
-June 23, 1990-
It was a calm Sunday afternoon and us doctors in the emergency room had no real trauma case come in as of yet, only a few stomach bugs and a child came in with a broken wrist. Now we sat around in the lounge and played a few rounds of poker wasting time as we waited for our next patients to arrive. Another hour passed until I heard myself paged to the front desk. I excused myself from the current round being dealt and headed to the front desk.
The secretary, Allie Kern, informed me that my family was in the waiting room and that Dr. Brian Johnson had been paged and would be down in fifteen minutes to take an x-ray that needed to be done on my son. I thanked her and rushed into the waiting room. Maria was eight months pregnant with our daughter, Alice Mary, and was holding our eighteen-month-old son Emmet in her arms, while my injured three-year-old son Edward sat in the chair next to Maria. His arm was bent at an odd angle and his shirt was soaked with blood, his hands sporting brush burns.
I carefully gathered my son in my arms, avoiding contact of his back and broken arm, turning to my wife and asked, "Maria, what happened to him? How does a three-year-old end up like this?" I asked in panic when I saw the terrible state my three-year-old son was in.
My pregnant wife adjusted our one-year-old son in her arms and replied, "Edward wanted to be the good big brother and help push Emmett's stroller. I didn't see anything wrong with it but I noticed too late the hill that he began to go down. The momentum of speed the stroller picked up caused Edward to fall and the stroller dragged him down the pavement. He's got a lot of scratches on his back now. And when his arm smacked the ground I heard a snapping sound and realized he had broken it."
"You need to be more vigilant, Maria. This accident could have been prevented."
"Don't start blaming me, Carlisle. I can't even see my feet over my stomach so how can you expect me to see a hill start when I can't even see the damn ground?"
I sighed, Maria was right. Edward just happened to be the victim of just another accident that occurred while he was in the care of his mother.
I looked at my battered son in my arms and gave him a gentle hug avoiding his back and broken limb before carrying him into an exam room and began patching him up.
Edward had ended up breaking the same arm he had broken when he was just a little baby. I'm shocked that he never had any permanent damage to his right arm with the two breaks he received in the first three years of his life. Maria was an irresponsible mother… she was definitely a woman not fit to be a mother. No woman who could show favoritism among her children when they were just babies… That favoritism only turned more dangerous along with Maria's excuses and believable lies… all that led to my son's premature death.
-August 9, 1990-
I stayed home from work today to help my wife with our children. All of them had managed to pick up the flu. Alice was only two weeks old but fortunately, aside from the vomiting and diarrhea, she managed to skip out on the high fever that our poor boys were suffering from.
I was currently bathing my baby girl when I heard Maria close Emmett's door silently behind her. She walked into the bathroom looking exhausted.
"How are they?"
She sighed, "Emmett's fever is at 103 and Edward's is dropping, it's at 101. Both of them are out cold."
"Did you use a cool, damp cloth on Edward to still try to lower his temperature? I see you've done so with Emmy," I said as I noticed the cloth in her hand.
"Should I still? I mean won't he get cold now that his fever is lowering?"
I shook my head, "He still needs it until his temperature is below 100. Do you mind doing it? I have to finish cleaning Alice."
She sighed, "Carlisle, I've been with those boys for the past hour. Can we switch?"
I was disappointed in her… I hoped she wasn't indicating that our children were a burden. "Honey, I'll only be ten more minutes with Alice, please just go take care of Edward."
"But I want to be with my baby! You can't deny me time with my own daughter."
"I wasn't," I started to argue but shook my head not having the strength to fight right now, "Fine. Finish bathing her and I'll go in and cool off Edward."
As I walked out of the bathroom hearing Maria coo over Alice, I hastily made my way across the hall to Edward's room. When I walked over to him I noticed the sweat beads lining his forehead and saw his body trembling. I gently stuck the thermometer under his arm and waited till it beeped: 104. I was alarmed, that was a dangerous temperature. I quickly pressed the cloth I had brought with me into the basin of cool water on the side table, squeezing the access water from it, and gently began wiping his sweaty brow desperate to cool him off and bring that temperature down. Had my own wife lied to me about caring for Edward? Because there was no way his temperature could have raised that high in thirty minutes.
Considering what I know now about wife's heinous behavior towards our son, it wouldn't surprise me one bit if she hadn't stepped foot in Edward's room that day while all three of our children were sick from the flu. Thank God I called off work that day, because if I hadn't, Edward's health could have been jeopardized if Maria had neglected him all day. Edward was such a little blessing, I still cannot grasp how Maria could have abused him and killed such an innocent soul? The only thing I know is that Maria was a selfish person and didn't think how Edward's death would affect everyone else but her…
-December 22, 1990-
My wife and I, along with our two children Emmett and Alice, sat on a church bench while the pre-school performed the Christmas production of Jesus' birth. Our little boy Edward was playing one of the three Wise Men. When Maria was getting him fixed in his costume, as I videotaped, I chuckled at his protests of displeasure. He hated the long white robe he had to wear for his character. After his part in the play was over everyone clapped for the three children's participation, everyone except my wife. I looked over at her and saw that she had the most stagnant expression on her face, one that indicated boredom and obligation. How could she not be proud of our son when he just overcame his stage fright?
My son ran over to where I sat and jumped up on my lap, "Daddy, did I do good?"
"You sure did, buddy!" I smiled as I gave him a hug.
"Mommy, did you see me?"
"Yeah, whatever, you did good… Now be quiet, the play is still going on!"
I watched as Edward's excited expression fell into one of pained confusion. Was it so hard for my wife to be kind to him just once in his life?
That was the only play production or recital that Maria ever attended that Edward participated in. Every other time she had an excuse as to why she could not attend or said it would run too late and affect Emmett and Alice's bedtime. If it weren't for me taking off work early to attend my son's piano recitals in the afternoon and early evening then Edward never would have had family supporting him as he performed. I knew my parents attended as often as they could but Edward preferred having one of his parents there.
-April 13, 1991-
Today was Easter. Maria was outside hiding the eggs that our children were to hunt in a couple of minutes. We had just come home from church so the children were still in their church clothes looking handsome and beautiful. My son Edward was almost four years old now, Emmett nearing two and half, and little Alice was now eight months old and was determined to crawl any day now.
As I sat on the floor beside my little girl, I watched in amusement as Emmett chased his older brother around the house. Unfortunately as Edward rounded the corner, Emmett missed the turn and ran into the side table causing the vase of flowers sitting near the edge to teeter and fall to the ground, shattering.
"EDWARD ANTHONY CULLEN!" I cringed as I heard my wife's atrocious screech. "How many times have I told you there is to be no running in this house?"
"Emmy ran too!"
My wife took threatening steps toward my son and to my utter shock backhanded him across the cheek, "You broke my favorite vase, you little brat!"
Edward stood brave not allowing the tears to fall that were filling his eyes, "I didn't break it, mommy. Emmy did."
"Are you talking back to me?" she shrieked.
"Maria, calm down. Edward's telling the truth. Emmett ran into the table and the vase fell. It was an accident. If anyone's at fault, here, it's me. I shouldn't have let them run in the house." I said defending my children from my wife's wrath.
"I don't care, Carlisle. Edward knows better." She then focused her attention back on the frozen three-year-old, "Get up to your room now! You're being punished. No Easter egg hunt for you. Go now or you will get a spanking!"
I saw two emotions flash across my son's eyes: longing and fear. Why fear? What would he be scared of? I shrugged letting it go as I watched him fly up the stairs to his room.
"Maria, why did you do that? It's Easter… You could have been more lenient. This whole week Edward's been looking forward to this Easter egg hunt."
"Carlisle, that boy needs discipline. He doesn't obey my rules. I'm sorry if he's sad about the egg hunt being taken away but maybe he'll remember how sad he felt and obey me next Easter."
I shook my head at my wife's cruelty. To be technical it was Emmett who had broken the vase, why wasn't he being punished? "You know, Maria, Emmett was the one to knock down the vase. I guess he shouldn't be able to participate either."
"Don't be silly now. He's only two. He didn't know any better." She took our younger son's hand and walked away, sweetly saying, "Come now, Emmy. We'll get you into play clothes and then you can go Easter egg hunting!"
I glanced up the stairs with regret for my now despaired son, but I quickly shook my head and picked up Alice following my wife into the family room; my heart going out to my oldest child alone upstairs.
Had Maria slipped a drug into my drinks or food that caused me to buckle under the invisible power she'd possessed over me? How could I let her get away with punishing our son on Easter and having him miss out on precious family time? Why didn't I press Edward on the fear that I had seen in his eyes when his mother mentioned spankings? He was three and heartbroken, had I asked then, Edward probably would have spoken the truth about his mother's treatment toward him. Jesus, Carlisle, how could you have been so stupid?
-December 25, 1991-
Christmas morning was always a morning to be eager about. Our children were all mobile and full of adventure. Edward was now four, Emmett three, and Alice, seventeen months. We were all gathered around the tree, the children finishing up their sippy cups of milk that they always received in the mornings after they woke up. I watched Maria stand up and retrieve the children's stockings. She brought them over and sat back down around the Christmas tree. I watched as the children's faces lit up when she handed them their stockings.
Emmett immediately reached into his and pulled out a toy garbage truck. "Oh cool, thank you!"
I smiled at his enthusiasm.
Alice pulled out the teddy bear that was sticking out of her stocking and hugged it close, "Beary!"
I loved the sweetness that radiated off my daughter.
I then glanced over at Edward who was peering into his stocking with a perplexed expression on his face. I wondered what was wrong, I had bought him a Hess truck for his stocking.
"Mommy, there's nothing in my stocking," Edward told my wife quietly.
"Did you forget where I'd hid his present?" I asked my wife, unsure of what was going on.
"No, it's still exactly where you left it. I just decided that since Edward's been in trouble this week that he should receive nothing in his stocking. He doesn't deserve one."
"What did I do, mommy?" Edward asked, hurt lacing his voice.
"You don't listen to me when I tell you something. You need to learn how to behave. Or this is what happens – you don't get presents."
"But I've been good, mommy. I do my best to listen. Please can I have my present?"
I watched as Maria shook her head, "No, Edward. You're lucky I'm letting you open the presents Santa brought you along with the ones daddy and I got you."
Edward nodded in defeat, "Yes, mommy. Thank you."
After the children had opened their presents and were in the playroom playing with all their new toys I walked over to my wife and confronted her.
"What the hell were you thinking? It's Christmas! You don't take away gifts from our kids! What the hell went through your mind?"
"Obedience is the most important thing for a child to learn. Edward still needs that fact to go through his mind."
"He's four years old, Maria. You're going to scar him for life. Stop treating him more harshly than the others."
I watched her roll her eyes, "Fine, I'll give him the truck now."
I nodded while she went upstairs to get the truck.
That Christmas was the first time the idea of a divorce popped into my head. But I realized if we separated it would disrupt our children's lives horribly. Our kids wouldn't understand why they didn't see both of us every day and I was frightened they would turn bitter. I had never been more outraged than when Maria rejected my son one of his Christmas presents. Emmett and Alice were always her little angels… why couldn't she accept Edward as one?
-September 2, 1992-
Today was Edward's first day of kindergarten. He would even get to ride the bus to school! I couldn't believe it… Where had the time gone? My son was five years old and officially and elementary school student. It was only half days, but he was going to meet new friends and hopefully find a sport he enjoyed.
As I waited with Edward at the bus stop he and I just chatted about what he should expect during his first day at school. Then with much dread, I saw the bus coming down the road. It pulled to a stop in front of us. I hugged by little boy and watched with tears as the bus drove off, taking my little boy to school.
When I entered the house I walked over to my wife and wrapped my arms around her back, "It's official. Our son is in elementary school."
She shrugged me off, "Yeah, whatever, it will be nice to have him out of the house for a few hours. Hopefully his teacher can teach him some discipline."
With that said, she walked up the stairs to the nursery where Alice's cries rang out. I stood staring blankly at the staircase; if divorce was a solution, I'd divorce that bitter witch in a heartbeat.
Thinking back now, school must have been a blessing for Edward especially when he reached the first grade. He was out of the house, away from his mother, for eight hours. Those eight hours each day helped his body heal from wounds and gave him freedom of not hurting. Now I had tears running down my face; our house wasn't Edward's safe haven, his school was. That was completely messed up… A child's home was supposed to be where they felt safe, but because of Maria's torment on Edward, he must of dreaded coming home after school and when the weekends came.
-July 4, 1993-
It was our annual fourth-of-July family picnic. Our entire family was relaxing in the pool while the children ran around the yard chasing one another. Well our entire family with the exception of Edward… He was lying in his room upstairs, asleep. Yesterday morning an ambulance rushed my son into the emergency room and Dr. Negley Jackson declared emergency surgery, for my son's appendix had ruptured. I noticed there was bruising around his right side but I figured it was just ruptured blood vessels. When he came out of surgery two hours later, I was relieved when I found him awake and talking. Dr. Jackson told me the bruising on his torso was not caused by ruptured blood vessels but by blunt trauma. He confessed to me it appeared as though Edward had been kicked or punched several times on his torso. Who would hit my child? I would have to warn Maria to keep a vigilant eye on our son to make sure no stranger was hurting him.
To think I thought it was an insane stranger that was hurting my son or possibly a teacher at his school? No, it was my own wife. Edward's own mother… When Negley had informed me that my son was being physically harmed, my stomach was in my throat, I felt nauseous. Edward was such a well behaved boy, so polite, the idea that someone had the nerve to strike my son brought upon me an anger I had never experienced before. If I was a violent man – hell if I didn't have two other kids to raise – I might have killed my wife myself. I would never forgive her for murdering my son.
-October 16, 1993-
I found myself, once again, being paged to the front desk, thinking what did my son get into now? This past month, my son had been taken from school and brought here because of recess injuries. My son was an injury magnet; I swore to myself that the next time Edward was brought into the hospital during school hours that we were going to withdraw him from public school and just home school the poor child.
When he came in, I knew this was no falling off the jungle gym or monkey bars injury… no, this was more serious. His cheek was split open.
"What happened to him? Why does Edward have such a large bruise on his cheek?" I asked.
"The school nurse called again, Carlisle. Recess accident. Edward and another child were racing to the jungle gym and Edward fell, catching his face on the edge of the pole."
I winced at the deep purple bruise on his cheek, "That must hurt like hell," I mumbled. I just wasn't sure if I believed my wife's story or not. The cheek that was split open appeared more like a fist that met his face… "Are you sure there isn't more to what happened today?"
Maria looked at me astounded, "You don't believe me?"
"His injury looks more like he was punched. Are you sure he and the other child didn't get into a fight? I've seen child abuse cases before and the split open cheek always indicates a fist striking the child's cheek." I noticed that my wife paled slightly at my response.
She sighed, "I don't know, Carlisle. I told you what the school nurse told me. What more do you want from me?"
I shook my head, "Sorry, sweetie. I'm just worried about our son."
"Yeah, me too," she responded quickly. "Now get in there and heal our son."
I nodded, but couldn't throw away the voice in my head that was telling me that Maria knew more about what had caused Edward's injury than she was letting on.
I had a gut feeling that day that my wife was the one to cause Edward the bruising on his cheek and split open cheek. But my heart just hadn't wanted to wrap around that intuition. I didn't want to face the fact that the repulsion my wife felt toward Edward could lead to physical harm. I was an idiot. Selfishly I buried that feeling away and that only allowed Maria to continue to harm Edward until she eventually killed him. This is why I blame myself for his death…
-May 1, 1994-
I was watching Edward during his first day of swimming lessons at the local YMCA. He was such a little trooper. Before, Edward had been terrified of the pool water. But here he was with an instructor in the three-feet deep section of the pool with his floaties on his arms, as he held onto a kickboard and made his way across to the other side of the pool. When he reached the other side he immediately glanced up and found me and his mother and smiled brightly and waved at us enthusiastically. I returned the gestures with the same amount of enthusiasm. I noticed with a frown that he continued the gesture with confusion on his face. I glanced to the side and noticed my wife standing there playing her portable Yahtzee game not paying attention to our son's lesson. I nudged her on the side and pointed at Edward. She briefly waved but never smiled down at him as she returned to her game. I saw Edward frown before he continued on with his lesson.
"This is so boring!" My wife exclaimed. "I am not coming here again. I'd rather be at home with Ali and Emmy!"
"My parents love spending time with their grandbabies, Maria. Besides, Edward is thrilled you've come to watch him."
"Yeah, well, I am not coming again."
She walked away and headed outside. I sighed… Nothing in the world would change the way she viewed Edward. I realized that now and it broke my heart. Edward would never know what a mother's love felt like. I had had enough of her hatred portrayed at my son though. It was time to take action. I followed her out the door and saw her sitting on one of the benches outside.
"Maria, I'm done."
"Excuse me?"
I took a deep breath before continuing, "I've put up with it for six years hoping your attitude would change but it hasn't. I can no longer stay in a house where you hate one of your own children. Emmett and Alice sense it… they aren't stupid. They know you love them but not Edward. This summer, once Edward's schooling is over, I want a divorce. And I will fight you for full custody of the children."
"You can't mean that."
"Do I ever… Once June 6th rolls around, we are filing for divorce." With that I walked away and headed back inside to watch the rest of my son's swimming lesson.
I was even a bigger idiot than I thought I was before. Everything she had said about Edward ruining her life… she took out all her anger on me with my suggestion of a divorce on Edward. My God, had I been home she would have used the baseball bat on me not my son. Why hadn't I come home sooner? I could have taken my son's place and he'd still be alive. God, was this my punishment for overlooking the warning signs you sent me of the abuse he was suffering from? To have me live with the guilt and regret for the rest of my life… is that the punishment you've granted me?
A/N: Did anyone catch what was the cause of Maria's brutal murder of her son? Take guesses, I will let you know if you're right!
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