Esme was the kind of person that was blessed with optimism. She never liked to look at the glass half empty; she always preferred to look at the glass half full, no matter what the circumstances were . She always faced her challenges with an eager tenacity, and a gentle heart that was always filled with hope.

But, however.

The tauntings at school were beginning to take a toll on her.

Her quiet demeanour was the armour she wore every single day against their attacks. Though she fought with all she had, the words hurt her deeply.

But she would nevergive them the pleasure of defeat.

They can talk all they want.

They are just words. . .

In the beginning she denied it to herself that the words those girls said at school didn't hurt. Perhaps denial was the only thing numbing her pain, but then in the long nights she slept on her bed, their voices would come back to haunt her. The words reverberating into her mind creating a tempest within her. Their faces filled with filthy superiority.

"October.

Dearest Diary,

The girls at school are relentless. They won't stop. I just can't understand.
I've done nothing wrong.

Right?

Mrs Kenway is worse. Every Monday, she makes it a habit of humiliating me in class. I can't think of a reason why she hates me so much. Susie Mae is the worst of them all. Ever since that day in class when Mrs

Kenway saw my diary and said Carlisle's name in class, Susie Mae's attitude towards me seems to turn into anger which I have no comprehension of.

I've never felt such cruelty in my life.

It seems that they take pleasure in teasing me and making my life miserable.

I can't tell Mother about it, she won't understand. She definitely will chastise me even just for writing in class. Let alone writing his name into my journal.

Father seems distant. I barely see him anymore.

Putting poignancy aside,

I am thankful to my new English teacher, Ms Roberts.

Whenever I'm having a particularly hard day, she talks to me, inevitably making me feel better.
She is extremely sweet. Thank God for her, I don't know how long I would have gotten through the last few months without her. She's like the older sister I've always wanted, wise and yet funny, firm but kind. I shall always be thankful to her kindness."

"November.

Dearest Diary,

Ms

Roberts has been fired.

This is completely ridiculous, I feel like I'm being punished for something that I didn't do. I went up to speak with the school's principal myself that morning and told him that she was merely talking to me. But then he replied in a very dry tone "That it is not of the teacher's position to interfere with personal matters of students."

Personal matters?

I didn't even tell her any of the events that happened in the last months. How ludicrous can this school system be?

All she did was talk to me, shared jokes with me and spoke to me about her ideals.

The principle told me that she was not 'safe' to be teaching at the school. He said that her candour was a bad influence on the students; giving them 'ideas' as he called them.

I'm helpless with this situation. I tried to reason with them. But all they could hear was how 'insolent' I was at speaking to my elders in such a manner.

I feel like I've let Ms Roberts down. She didn't deserve any of this. If anyone should have the blame, it should be me. I should have never gotten so close with her. It's just that, I've felt so alone this last month. Everything seems so confusing, and she helped me go through it with her benevolence and humour.

I feel like I lost a good friend."

That was the moment when Esme knew she wanted to be a teacher.

The teachers she grew up with were stern and clinical. But Ms Roberts showed her that sometimes change is good. Opening your mind to new ideas was like opening your eyes to a whole new world, it's not something to deny or something to be afraid of. Change ispart of life.

She knew that she would never forget the kind teacher.

The holidays were beginning to set in, which meant no school for a couple of weeks, which also meant time away from the snake pit.

Autumn was her favourite time of the year.

The way the lush greenery turned into faded remnants of the past year in one big beautiful ruin, as its memories are swept away by the wind.

The once green leaves, now replaced with incandescent colours of red and gold.

Everywhere she looked it seemed, each golden leaf she saw resembled the color of his eyes.

She spent a good a first week of her holiday break working her way through the never ending chores.

"List of things to clean.

1. Dust all the wooden furniture.
2. Mop the floors.
3. Clean the chicken pens.
4. Clean the horses and refill their water buckets.
5. Do the laundry.
6. Organize the kitchen cupboard. (Porcelain from glass must be separated.)
7. Clean the bathroom floor.
8. Clean the living room carpet. (Esme dear, make sure to remove the dust thoroughly.)
9. Throw the garbage.
10. Iron all the clean clothes."

She worked from the early hours of dawn till the late hours of night. Diligently cleaning, mopping, scrubbing and ironing till she thought she was going to go completely bonkers.

It was 10 minutes past 11 in the night.

She needed to finish the last batch of shirts for her father to wear for work.
She patiently ironed out every wrinkle from every nook and cranny and meticulously folded each one and placed them neatly onto the laundry basket. The beads of sweat started to form at the temples of her head and made their way down to her cheeks. She was extremely exhausted. But she had to finish this right away, not later, not tomorrow, now.

Several shirts and one finger singed finger later, she was finished.

Her legs were aching from the long hours of standing. She was scheduled for the cast to be removed tomorrow by Dr Peterson; she no longer needed the crutches.

She slowly dragged herself up the stairs and straight to her bedroom. She was dead tired.

Esme collapsed onto the bed and closed her eyes.

She fell into deep slumber in no time.

Sometime during the night, she awoke to the sound of someone's voice calling her.

It was so familiar. Yet the voice was barely above a whisper, she couldn't be sure who it was.

She sat up in bed, confused.

The room felt cold, she glanced at the window to find it open.

That's so strange.

She slowly got up from her bed and walked to the window and pulled the sill down. Esme felt a shudder go through her as she went back to bed.

The darkness in her room silhouetted the large and foreboding trees outside. Their thorny branches outstretched like greedy hands waiting for an innocent victim.

She quickly pulled the blanket over her head. Underneath her pillow was his handkerchief. She grabbed it and held it close to her face, she began to replay the memory of the night she had met him.

His beautiful face.

His eyes like golden fire.

His gentleness.

She fell asleep with Carlisle in her thoughts. . .

A/N: Whew! this took me a while to type out, Haha. Hope you guys like it! keep reading! :D