Chapter 4
Broken
AN: OK, this note is important so please read. I know that they did not have computers in the 20's. I am well aware of that. I decided to have a computer in the last chapter because I felt that the Cullens are so awesome that they should have one. They are so smart they probably invented something like it. No, it would not be like today's computers, but I wanted Carlisle and Edward to have one. I knew one-hundred percent that they had not made them back then, but I wanted the Cullens to have one- hence a computer ending up in the last chapter.
Thank you to the people who told me this kindly and with humor.
I don't own Twilight.
Chapter dedicated to EdwardCullensMine just because I love her!! Go read her stories now!! The Cullen's Go Camping, and Nessie Runs Away!!
Esme POV
"I wasn't kidnapped, but my life felt like it had been." I said. I tightened my grip on my leg where my hand was resting. I still resented Charles for what I was about to tell from my story. Carlisle saw my tension and held me closer to him. His other hand slipped under my hand- keeping me from tearing my jeans- and I gripped it closely. I held onto it with all I could, and his thumb rubbed against the top of my hand.
"Nessie, this part is very hard for Esme. We just ask that you try to understand." Carlisle said. His arm- that was wrapped around my shoulders- rubbed against my arm.
"Of course." Nessie paused. "Grandma, what happened?"
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1920
Ashland, Wisconsin
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I tapped my fingers against the hard wood of this uncomfortable chair. I shifted in the chair for the one-hundredth time this hour. I had been waiting so long in this little barren room.
Too long for any good news.
I twisted in the chair yet again. So many thoughts were running through my head. Knowing my baby was in trouble, and there was nothing I could do. The terror of the situation, and the absolute helplessness.
I hadn't even named my precious baby boy yet. He was all I had left in life, and his life was dependant on whether this surgery was a success.
Instead of dwelling on everything that could go wrong, I thought back over everything that got me to this place.
Although against my will, I married Charles. He seemed nice enough on the outside, so I figured I would get through it. Many girls have arranged marriages, so that comforted me some. For the first month of the marriage, he was so sweet. He was an amazing husband, giving me everything I had wanted.
After that first month, everything changed. He abused me. Every night, he would torture me. Call me names, swear at me, and physically hurt me. If I cried, he hit me harder. If I talked, he hit me harder. If I so much as made a sound, he hit me harder. He still forced me to sleep in the same bed as him. I wanted so much to cry when he was done, but I knew I would be hurt even more if I did. I guess you could also call it rape on some nights when he was 'in the mood'. He treated me like his slave. I had to wake up before the sun rose in the morning. If I jostled him as I got out of bed, he would wake up for ten seconds, slap me, and then fall back asleep. His breakfast had to be made by the time he was out of bed. During that first month, he would kiss me when I made a mistake. Now he just hurt me further. I tried talking to my parents, but they didn't believe me. They just told me to get through whatever phase I was having, and continue on with my life. They just wouldn't listen.
A couple years after, the war broke out. He was drafted and sent out. The night before he left was the worst night I have ever experienced. The torture was so much worse. I never knew that kind of pain was possible. As soon as he walked out of the door the next morning, I broke down in tears. I cried the whole day long, tears of hurt, and tears of joy. Tears of hurt- finally being able to breakdown with getting punished, and tears of joy- he was gone off to war, not to hurt me again.
My life became normal once again. My bruises yellowed, and disappeared. All except one. One large bruise on my left arm remained. It stayed at a light purple, but still visible to anyone with eyes. The bruise was just a ghastly reminder of what Charles had done to me.
In 1919, Charles came back. He just showed up on the doorstep on day, telling me he was back. I was terrified. I was hoping seeing what he did in the war would make him more compassionate, and that he wouldn't hurt me again. But he did. Charles went back to the way he was, hurting me yet again. All the bruises that had faded came back, and the one that had remained just darkened until it became a permanent dark purple.
One Wednesday morning, I thought the day would be the same as always. I woke up at the usual five-thirty, made Charles his breakfast, and he left to go to work. Moments after, I felt sick to my stomach. I just made it into the bathroom in time to throw up. Just thirty minutes after, I felt fine. I didn't have a headache, no more stomach ache, and no other symptoms. When I made lunch for myself, I ate twice as much as I usually did. I even fell asleep on the couch after lunch. I called my cousin and talked to her about it. She suggested that I go to the doctor and was about to say something else, but Charles was pulling into the driveway. I quickly hung up the phone before he saw me.
After Charles left for work the next morning, I went to the doctor. He ran all sorts of tests and came to one horrifying conclusion.
I was pregnant.
Of course I was thrilled I was having a child. I always wanted one, a little baby to hold in my arms and to cuddle when I was sad.
But it was Charles's baby. And I didn't want a child from him. I wanted a baby from a man I loved with all my heart, a baby we could watch grow up. A baby that we could cry tears of joy at as they had their first day of school, joined the town sports teams, graduated high school, went off to college, got married, had children. I would get that now, but I didn't want to do that with Charles. I didn't want my baby to grow up in a house like that. If he abused me, he would probably abuse my baby.
I needed to leave before Charles could hurt my unborn baby. While making his dinner, I slipped heavy doses of alcohol into his drink, and some into his soup. He ate his dinner, and before he could drag me into the bedroom, he was passed out on the couch. He awoke the next morning with a hangover, confused and clueless about what happened last night. Before he left, he slapped me hardly across the face. All I could think was, 'at least it wasn't my stomach'.
As he was gone at work, I ran away. I had called the same cousin and asked to stay with her. She willingly accepted, and I traveled to her home in Milwaukee. A missing report was filed, but someone had reported a sighting of me in Milwaukee. Police were getting suspicious, so I had to move on. I changed my name to Anne, and put in a generic name as my last. I traveled to Ashland, as I had gotten a job offer there. I taught just outside of the town, but my small little house was inside the town borders. I loved the children I taught, and I knew that I could be a good mother to my baby.
Some months after I left Charles, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. As he was born, I was waiting to hear the piercing ring of his cry, but it never came. I could see my baby on a table with doctors over him, but there were no sounds coming from his precious self. I looked worriedly over to him, but a nurse stepped into my view. She had told me my baby was having some complications, and the doctors were doing what they could.
And now I was here- in this barren room, awaiting the news. My baby was in surgery for a lung problem. The reason for not crying when he was born- he couldn't get the oxygen from his lungs to do so. He was only two days old, and there was no guarantee he would live to see the rest of his life. I may never get to see him grow up, or…
"Anne?" I looked up. The main doctor was standing in the doorway behind his desk. He was the one performing the surgery. Oh please, please be good news.
"Yes?" I said. The doctor sat down at the desk. This churned my stomach- if it was good news couldn't he just tell me so I could go see my baby? "Is my baby alright?"
"Ma'am, I am terribly sorry, but your baby didn't make it. We did everything we could, put we weren't able to save him. I am so sorry." The doctor said.
My…baby…died. My…beautiful…baby…boy. He was gone forever, and I would never get to hold him in my arms again. He would never grow old, or get married. I could never raise him, or cry tears of joy as he said 'mama' for the first time. I didn't even get the chance to name him.
"Ma'am, we understand that this will be a very hard time for you, so we have asked for someone to help you with the…arrangements." I couldn't respond or move. "Anne, I suggest you should go home to your family. They will be the best…support. Of course, you may stay in this room until you have collected yourself." I then realized tears were streaming down my cheeks. The doctor stood up again. "I am deeply sorry, ma'am." The doctor said. He left the room.
I balled my eyes out. I had no idea what else to do. My baby boy was my whole world, the only reason I had to live. He was the only reason I had worked so hard to hide myself, and to survive. I had no point of living anymore.
After about another thirty minutes, I was able to move. I slowly made my way out of the chair, and eventually out of the room. I got looks of pity as I passed people. I could only imagine how my face must look. I continued walking and didn't stop. I walked, and I walked. I only stopped when I got to the place I wanted to be.
I was standing on the edge of the cliff, the waves crashing against the rocks below me. I looked down and wasn't scared. I had no reason to live. So why should i? Why should I go through years of suffering, just to end up in the end with nothing? I stepped up closer to the edge so my toes were hanging off. There was only one person I would for right now, and he was gone. He wouldn't come to save me.
Goodbye. I love you, Carlisle.
And then I launched myself off the cliff.
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Present
Forks, Washington
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"You…threw…yourself off a cliff?" Nessie asked. I nodded and squeezed Carlisle's hand tighter.
"Yes. I was so broken down that I didn't know what else to do."
"But how are you here then? Wouldn't throwing yourself off the cliff kill you?" She asked.
"That's where I come in." Carlisle said.
