"How are you holding up?" Carlisle asked me.
"Well, I think." I answered. We were walking back to the ward after our "lunch" break, and was carrying a huge pile of towels in my arms, with a selection of books placed on top. I put the towels down on a table next to the door in the ward, and smiled at Carlisle, as he went towards the opposite end of the room. I walked towards the childrens area, and sat down, picking up the copy of "Peter Rabbit" I had bought that morning. It was an old story, but a good one. The children were all severley ill, and the smell of death clung to most of them, but my reading put a small on their faces. After reading them "The Tale Of Two Bad Mice" and "The Tale Of Benjamin Bunny" I put them back to bed and began attending to the rest of the ward.
As I walked towards Edward and his mother and father, I gave a small sigh. The french girl had died in the early hours of the night. It had been a week since she had been put under my care, and in that week I had done my best for her, but it was no use. Carlisle and I had done as much as we could, but it was not enough. It happened a lot during this epidemic, but it still effected me greatly. But the sigh was not just for her. The smell of death was getting stronger, and it was starting to become apparant on Edward. He was just 17. Too young to die.
I checked on his father first. He was the worst off. He slept all the time, never stopped sweating and occasionally coughed blood. I knew he was going to die soon, and it made me sad to think about it. His mother wasn't doing much better. She wasn't coughing blood yet, but her nose bleeds and vomiting became more frequent and violent every day, and eventually she would become like her husband. Edward however was sat up in bed, his forehead still beaded with sweat and his cough worse than it had been a week ago.
"What were you doing over there?" He asked me, a slight smile on his face.
"Reading. To the children." I answered.
"Surely that's not part of your job?" He asked me.
"No, it's not." I said, smiling. "But-" I turned to look at the children, and dropped my voice. "Many of them are going to die. And I want them to at least be comfortable and happy before the go."
Edward nodded, his face somber for a moment, and then he smiled. "That's very good of you."
I shrugged and cotinued to rummage around in my medicine bag.
"Peter Rabbit was always my favourite book. As a kid." He added, smiling wistfully.
"Mine too." I gave a small smile, looking up at him and looked down at the bag.
"Although now I prefer The Picture Of Dorian Grey...bit of an old book, but very good."
I looked up at him. "That's my favourite book. My most favourite book. Ever."
Edward shot me a crooked smile. "It's excellent. Pure genius."
I gave a small laugh and nodded. "Best thing I've read in a while, that's for sure. And I've studied English Literature at Uni-" I cut off and shook my head slightly, remembering that I was speaking to a human and not a vampire.
Edward frowned slightly for a second and then blinked. "Do you have a copy of it? I left mine at home..."
"In my bag, yes. I can read it to you, if you like." i smiled.
He grinned. "Please. If it's no trouble."
"No trouble at all." I smiled. "But you have to have your injection first."
He sighed, but nodded, holding out his arm to me. I smiled, quickly stabbing the skin and then pressing a piece of cotton to it, to stop the bleeding. Edward grimaced, but didn't make a sound.
"Keep that there," I instructed him, gesturing to the cotton. "while I go and get the book."
He nodded and I rushed off to get the book.