A/N: Okay you guys are SO awesome witht he reviews and stuff I'm gonna post ANOTHER chapter! Yay! Also I'm anxious to see what you think.
Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Hymn to the Sea - Titanic soundtrack and Bella's Lullaby - Twilight Soundtrack
Chapter 3 – Discovery
I started my search with property ownership of the house which of course was originally in the name of Edward Anthony Masen Sr. M.D.
What a nice name. It had an air of respect about it. Dr. Masen, who I also found out, the street was named for, was the son of an Irish immigrant who had immigrated to America during the potato famine in 1852. Dr. Masen's father, Arthur MacMasen married the same year to an Irish woman living in Springfield and set up house there. To shield his growing family from the prejudice of the Irish immigrants at the time, Arthur decided to drop the 'Mac' on his last name and was from then on known simply as Arthur Masen.
Arthur had four children, two boys, Edward Anthony, the eldest and Robert Andrew and two girls, both of whom died in infancy and their names were not given. Edward was quite the scholar and was able to attend university at Knox College in Galesburg, Illinois with a full scholarship. Robert, ironically became a stone mason, and was by friends, family and customers known simply as 'Mason.' Sadly, Robert died at the age of 25 after 75 pounds of brick fell on him from a weak and breaking scaffold.
Edwards graduated with honors and became a well respected Doctor, moving to Chicago in 1898. Soon after establishing his own practice, he met the love of his life, Elizabeth Kennedy, also of Irish decent. They married in 1900 and bore one child one year later, Edward Anthony Masen Jr. The good doctor was awarded with several honors on behalf of the city and was infact one of the top five in the state of Illinois. He even had the street he lived on, which was then called Old Derringer Pass Road, named after him.
It was not to last, however, in 1918 the Spanish Influenza hit the town and the doctor was one of the first physicians to contract the disease. Unfortunately he died, but not before accidentally exposing his wife, Elizabeth and seventeen year old son, Edward to the virus. They too, were recorded to have died of the flu, but the property, willed to Edward Jr., had no one else to be left to.
Out of respect for the beloved doctor, the city left his house just the way it had been at the time of his death. Twenty years later, it still stood vacant, but a distant relative came to claim it and has since kept it in good repair, occasionally hiring workers to see to its condition.
I looked at the name of the current property owner. E. Cullen, current residence was listed as Alaska. How very odd, I thought, a relative all the way from Alaska paying to keep the property up as well as it was. He was either more devoted to family roots than most, or he simply did it for the good of the city of Chicago. It seemed to me, though, that it might be of more use as a historical landmark or something, belonging to the Historical Society of Chicago.
Actually my reasoning was partially selfish; if it were owned by the Historical Society; at least then one could possibly tour it.
I sighed as I left the regional library. It was as cloudy as Forks used to be, but rain had not been in the forecast. I had left my umbrella at home today, banking on the weatherman's assurance. The bus stop was a block and a half from my house, which on most days didn't seem at all a daunting or weary walk. I walked quickly as I tried to beat the seemingly imminent downpour. As I reached sight of my house I reached into my pocket to retrieve the front door key. Charlie always insisted that I lock the door whether I intended to be out five minutes or five days because a burglar wouldn't know the difference.
As I felt around inside my jeans I had a startling realization. The key was on the table next to the door. Inside; I was outside. Charlie wouldn't be home for nearly three hours yet. Our lovely little house had no shelter of a porch or portico. Neither did any of our neighbors, none of whom I knew or had even met yet, save librarian Linda who also wouldn't be home for hours yet; the library was open until seven.
I looked to the old Masen house. How many hours had I sat at my window longing even to relax on the front porch? Now that it seemed I had no other choice, the old house looked more menacing, larger somehow, and just a bit…scary.
Maybe it was the fact that I now knew that people had died there. Died and no one else had taken up residence since then. Had the relative ever even seen the place? Of course workers had been in and out a bit keeping it up and all, but how far could that extend? No one who really cared about the place had set foot in it in almost a hundred years.
As I stood there gazing up at the house I felt the first few huge raindrops hit my head and shoulders. I didn't have much longer to decide; it was stand here like an idiot and get wet, or sit on the porch of 112 while I waited for Charlie to come home. My mind was quickly made up and I rushed up the steps to my grand lady.
The porch was even bigger than I had thought, and I now noticed, wrapped around one side all the way to the back of the house. I cautiously walked the old porch, the beams, though freshly painted, squeaked under my feet with the wonderful cracks and squeals that only a house standing for so long can.
I looked cautiously in the windows as I passed. Most of the first floor windows seemed to be covered by a thick lace curtain that prevented much of a view into the rooms that I had dreamt of so often. As I reached the end of the porch which descended into steps leading down off the porch into the back yard or into the back door, I hesitated. Out of curiosity I placed my hand on the doorknob of the back door. I turned it ever so slightly, and to my great surprise, it opened.
I felt like Alice in Wonderland, trying to choose whether or not it was rude to snoop in an abandoned house. Well, not really abandoned; after all, the owner made an effort to keep it up. I took a deep breath and opened the door a bit wider. Looking around and behind me to see if anyone was watching or present and seeing no one, I took a step that would ultimately change my life. I stepped inside.
EPOV
"I called you, you didn't come. Is everything okay?"
Alice stepped into my room from the hallway, I nodded slightly. I knew she would see it thought a human would barely discern any movement at all.
"We're all ready to go, you coming this time?"
I made no move this time as she walked slowly forward, she would know what my unresponsiveness meant too.
"You're looking at her picture again… Edward… it's been so long. Please don't do this to yourself; come hunting… it will clear your mind and we all need to be ready in case we don't get the chance again before the move. The movers will be human you know… none of us need the temptation."
She said, placing a tiny hand on my shoulder.
"I'll be fine." I said, my voice cracking ever so slightly. Silently I cursed myself; she would pick up on it… I really didn't want her to know how much I had been mourning her again lately.
"Oh, Edward, I wish there was something I could do to lessen the pain. You can't go on like this; you weren't even courting her… she never knew how you felt." She said.
"For that I'm grateful. She never knew what she was missing… I need to visit her, just once… one last time. I have to see her, Alice. I have to know." I said. Alice would know that I was not intending to convince her of my decision. She knew me well enough to know that I had been considering this for a while and had already decided.
"I understand, Edward. Please come hunting with us though… it will help. I promise." She said quietly.
"Thank you Alice. But no, I'll hunt along the way. I'd rather not see anyone else right now." I said. At times when my heart felt the heavy emptiness of my foreboding eternity Alice, my 'sister' was the only member of my family I could tolerate. She knew when to push and when not to. Somehow, she understood, even when she didn't.
"Alright, Edward; Good luck; I hope you find her life a happy one, for both your sakes." I could feel the slight smile in her voice; I knew that if she could cry she would cry tears of sympathy for me. At times I felt as close to her as if she were my blood relation.
I grew up an only child, but if I could have chosen to have a sibling, Alice would have been it.
I waited for the others to leave before I started on my way. I liked the peacefulness of traveling on my own. I had a long way to go, but I decided early on to take my time and drive at human speeds. Usually, when my spirits were better, I was known for being the fastest in my family; on foot and wheels.
My past flew before me; I relaxed as the memories flooded my mind. The drive, I knew, would have this affect on me, but I didn't mind. Perhaps, if I were lucky, this trip would settle me. Perhaps I would no longer feel the need to revisit my past, to see her… if she were even still there…still alive.
I could see her beautiful soft brown hair, how it framed her face, her chocolate brown eyes, how they seemed to bore into me, to look deep into my soul. How could she never have known how I felt? How could she not have felt the electricity between us? Perhaps it was better this way, just as I had assured Alice.
Would I speak to her? Certainly she should not see me… that would be too much… could I see her without wanting to speak? To touch her? I knew not to expect the beauty that my memory held fast to, but I could not imagine her any other way.
BPOV
I stepped inside the door and quickly shut it behind me, quietly as if not to disturb anyone who might be inside. Despite the obvious lack of use, the house was not covered in dust or cobwebs, but quite presentable.
I explored quietly as the thunder crashed outside. Each room seemed to bring the past alive. I felt quite the intruder, worse… like I was desecrating a tomb… disturbing the ghosts long laid to rest. I knew I should turn around, walk back out the door and wait quietly on the porch for the rain to stop. But I couldn't; something was pulling me forward.
I walked through the rooms on the ground floor; everything was as if in a time warp… a mixture of items, furniture, art from the early twentieth century Edwardian era, almost to the nineteen twenties. The house was like a vault… everything I saw belonged in the Smithsonian.
I finished my tour of the ground floor and decided to try the upstairs. My love for the house, my obsession, I could feel it growing the longer I stayed. I knew I was like an addict allowing the drug to enter my veins, to fill my senses, to dull my reality into a perfect place built only for me. I was lost to time.
The master bedroom was the first room on the second floor I came to. I was beautiful, retaining the most of the Victorian and Edwardian era furniture. I allowed myself to step back in time, I walked into this house as Bella Swan, visitor from the twentieth century, but I knew very well that I would leave as Isabella, Victorian lady; At least in my own mind.
The lady of the house obviously lacked for nothing. I sat carefully at her dressing table, fingering gently her cosmetic dishes, hair tools, perfumes. I looked into her mirror and imagined myself the lady of this grand Queen Anne. I looked around, a bit more, as if deciding for sure to do what I knew was wrong.
Empty or not, these thing belonged to someone else. I had no right to walk through here much less even consider what I was considering.
My hands moved as if compelled, I knew well that if I wanted to I could stop them. But that was the problem. I did not want to; I had no inclination to stop myself whatsoever.
A/N: Yes, one of my infamous cliffies! Yes I have written up to the eighth chapter! No! I cannot, must not post it all in one night! Where would the mystery and suspense be then? Please review... please no death threats, anything else is fine LOL!
