Author's note: Edward is now 17, so six years since he was sent to the hospital.
Chapter Eight
Year 1940.
"Edward, did you hear me?"
Esme's voice rings throughout the room. The words she has just spoken are broken, disconnected as if they don't belong together. The English language is strange that way, perhaps the most peculiar of all languages. It isn't soft and seductive, rolling off the tongue in sweet murmurs that I am all too familiar with like French, and nor is it filled with spice and life like Spanish. English is a mixture of harsh sounds and grated noises. The words she spoke are still floating in my mind as I try to decipher the meaning.
Being. Are. Today. You. Released.
It doesn't make any sense, but a feeling of cold dread creeps up my body as the words begin to rearrange themselves, no longer acting as useless letters stringing together but rather words flowing to something of meaning.
You are being released today.
Those are the words that were just spoken to me. Being released means I am to go home, yet I'm not entirely sure I can call that place home anymore. It has been six years since I've felt the hard wooden floors beneath my feet, the sound of my mother to the piano, and the groaning of the house I once believed to be Adele. Happiness was is something pouring out there, mainly pain and loneliness. There is no happiness in that wretched house without HER.
There was is no solace anywhere, no peace, not even with my own parents. The words of my father come floating to the surface of my brain and suddenly I feel sick. This place took away the only happy memories I ever had, why couldn't they take the bad ones as well? Something about the line between reality and fantasy. Pain and loneliness were very much real. Isabella wasn't. "This son of yours is ruining everything! All that I worked so hard for, he is bringing down. We've done all we can do for him, and I won't let him ruin our lives anymore so than he already has." At some point you realize that life goes wrong, that it dealt you the wrong cards. I didn't fully understand that concept until I realized it was I that was the mistake, that I was the wrong cards dealt to my parents.
"Yes," I answer monotone.
She simply peers at me with uncertainty in her eyes. My answer is not the one she wants but rather the one she knows is to be expected. She would have me wrench my heart out to her and say what I really feel. As if I could ever do that, even if I wanted to. The fragmented pieces of my mind are barely being held together and to be honest is a sure way to never escaping this prison. I learned early on the truth is dangerous. The last time I faced the truth, I went mad. Literally.
A mistake I will never make again.
All I left is to move forward and never look back. During my stay at the institution, I was mostly ignored due to people having eerie feelings towards me about seeing the dead. In response I read almost anything I could get my hands on. The psychiatrist believed my academic promise could possibly overshadow my momentary loss of reality. So in effort to help me recover faster, he bought me a plentiful of books. Soon I realized I was extremely interested in the field of medicine. Having lost my mind as a child did not deter me from my intellect; I was brilliant as a child and I am brilliant now. Books are all I have left of myself. My own parents didn't even try to get involved in my life while I was here. Who could blame them? I was a complete nutcase and an embarrassment to them. Yet somehow I did blame them, the rational part of my mind realizes their failures as successful parents. The fact I was always so alone, and their indifference proves my point. Neither of them wanted to waste their time handling a child, though I admit my mother did have her moments, even she never came to see me.
At first I thought it was just due to the humiliation, or anger and that it would soon pass, but as the days turned to weeks and the weeks into months I realized no one was coming and no one cared. They abandoned me at this wretched madhouse and not once came to visit. While I hate myself for being everyone's problem, even I realize that this was not entirely my fault. But seeing as how I cannot voice my blame on my parents, I put the blame solely on ludicrous image of my deeply fragmented mind; Isabella.
She will always be the one at blame.
"Edward, I know this is" Esme suddenly spoke in a soft voice. "Well different for you. But you're going to be fine." She continues assuredly. "Anyhow, Emmett was just released two days ago, but he's waiting for you since he has nowhere to go." She finishes.
I just give her a sad smile in return. Even she knows the difference between what we want to believe and what is reality. Going home to two people who wished I had never been is a sure way of saying you'll be anything but fine and she knows it. But for now I indulge her in the lie she's deluding herself to believing, she's been nothing but kind to me my entire stay here, basically my mother is some ways. The last thing I want to do is to upset her, even if it is the truth. Like I said before, the truth is dangerous.
Having Emmett, my only friend since I've been institutionalized here, being released with me today makes the situation a little more bearable.
Emmett McGrath is a man of intriguing secrets. He is quiet, kind and a much better man than myself. His story is sad, much more sadder than my own. He grew up only hours away from my hometown to a wealthy family who had no interest in him. Emmett lived a privileged life, had quite a bit of wealth to his name, prospects extremely intelligent but there was this one flaw, something that could not be overlooked by his family, nor their society. Emmett McGrath is an epileptic. There lies the very flaw, the only one that could not be ignored and so they left him here in this institution at the age of seven. He is only a year older than I, but he did not let the bitter world run his mind, did not let it poison his life, he makes his own destiny and has this forgiveness, this quiet strength that I will never possess and sometimes I hate him for it.
A hand touches mine and immediately I'm shaking from my thoughts. Esme is staring at me with such sadness in her eyes and this pain spreads in my chest because I wish it is she that I am to go home to, and I partly believe she wishes the same. So in an effort to perk her up a bit, I smile a little bigger and go get my trunk and start packing what little items I own. Since I am one the most well-behaved patients at the institution, I was rewarded many times by getting to go out some. Esme always accompanied me, and usually bought me something against my protests. Though she never talks about it, I know she replaced her son by me. He's dead and somehow she saw I was her second chance, and to be quite honest I glad for she was my second chance as well.
I quickly find the suit that she bought for me most recently, it is black, simple but presentable. To the world I look perfectly normal, and by most standards I am. Isabella was an idea I made out of loneliness as a child, and when I left that house I left her behind as well. In a way it is nice to be rid of her, she was always giving me false hope, always leading me to believe that I was someone of worth. The cold harsh truth is I am not, I tend to ruin everything I touch.
"Do you mind if I ask a question about her?" Esme asked abruptly after a momentary silence.
She never had to speak the name to which she was referring, I already know to whom she is referring. The faculty learned quite early on that Isabella was a touchy subject for me and I never even wanted to hear her name. In these six years of being here, not once did I utter her name; thought of it, but never allowed it passed my lips.
Part of that was simply because I called out to her the first week, and she never came. Of course she couldn't come; she wasn't real, but my anger ignited tenfold anyways. Bitterness grew in my heart slowly eating out the love I once felt for her. My own personal feelings are more like a distant dream, faded away in the recesses of my mind. I can still remember her clear as day, she was so frighteningly beautiful, a beauty that seemed to draw things to her like my mother. Her beauty made me feel warm, and her rage protection. She was like a mother to me, always so caring and gentle.
But that's all passed now.
She's nothing but dust blown in the wind, gone.
I nod my head slowly to Esme giving her permission. She is trustworthy.
Her face immediately becomes apprehensive; as if afraid she might offend or send me into relapse. Suddenly I am overwhelmed by love and concern for her; no one has ever shown me such affection and kindness like her.
"It's okay," I assure her gently.
She then takes a deep breath before looking directly in my eyes.
"I watched you suffer every night from the demons that poisoned your mind," she began softly. "And somehow you worked through it, overcame what we believed you never would. And now that you're going back to the same place where it all began, I" she falters on the last word, having trouble continuing.
Suddenly she leans forward and grabs both my hands, as her eyes search my own.
"I just can't help but worry that if you only saw her there and nowhere else, that returning could mean," she cuts off, too distraught to finish.
"I might see her again," I finish darkly for her.
I would be lying if the thought never crossed my mind. Isabella claimed she was dead, so there was that slight possibility that I could see her and not be mad, but the odds are extremely thin. At the end of the day I choose to believe that she was never real.
"That won't happen," I say assuredly looking into her eyes. "It won't happen because you taught me to be of strong mind." I say with a genuine smile.
Immediately she returns the gesture and I am happy to put her mind to ease some. This is not her burden to bare, not her insanity to deal with. I must handle my own problems now. The distraught eleven year old that I once was, is no more; instead a young man fills his shoes, and it's time I start acting like one. This woman has been like a gentle mother to me and all I want is her happiness and peace of mind, even if mine will never come.
Suddenly her hands reach up to her neck, shakily fiddling with the chain there. As she finally gets the chain loose and off her neck, she reveals the necklace is her rosary. Esme is a highly devoted Catholic and an avid believer in God. She shakily holds the necklace out to me and puts it in my hand, grasping mine tightly.
"Take it," she says looking at me with concern. "Take it and remember that God will keep you safe, even from your mind" she finishes with conviction.
While I normally would indulge her in anything she bestows on me, this I cannot accept. The notion of God is sickening as unappealing. I've no time for such frivolity as faith in God, nor will I indulge in such. Shaking my head in protest, I slowly give it back to her to her utter dismay. She knew handing me such an object would most likely wind back up to her again and this time is no exception.
I want nothing to do with God or his religion.
"Keep it," I say softly. "I have no place at the foot of God," I finish softly but firmly.
Her eyes tear up slightly at my refusal and I don't miss the pity that lurks there as well. Normally this would anger me, I do not need anyone's pity, but hers is out of sheer concern and sadness. I know that she wishes she could save me, and yet can do nothing.
"Everyone has a place at the throne room of our Lord, including you Edward" she presses.
Agitation, not at her, but to God runs hot through my veins. Apparently God disagrees with her, for I would not be here to begin with if He had.
"I've no need of God or His precious mercy Esme," I spit out venomously not missing her flinch at the harshness of my voice. "When I had need, he drove me out" I finish coldly.
Her eyes tear up even more and water quickly spills out over her cheeks, hurt by my tone and accusation. Guilt envelopes me at the sight before me. God, will I ever stop damaging the people I love?
"God has not the patience for men like me Esme," I say softly. "You are not like me, bitter, angry and vengeful. You are kind at heart and pure. Keep your rosary, keep it for you deserve it not I." I finish quietly.
Tears continue to stream down her face and I realize she is not crying out of hurt for herself, but rather for me. She so desperately wishes things were different. Don't we all? I prayed to God and he remained silent. As he is God he can do as he wishes, but I had to pay for the price of that choice and so this is mine. I put my hope and faith in others, including Him, and they all failed me miserably. It is just too hard to keep doing that to myself, constantly hoping and being left behind by everyone I love.
Suddenly she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me into a motherly embrace. Warmness floods through me, seeing as I take every moment of affection given to me as I won't be getting it later. Fear begins to course through me at the sudden notion of what's really happening, but I have to be strong now.
Slowly I pull back and smile warmly at her.
"I'll be fine," I say assuredly. "You said so yourself remember?"
She nods in response but then takes my face in her hands before looking at me intently.
"No matter what happens, always know you'll always be welcome at my table." She says firmly and I know she means it.
Esme never says something she doesn't mean. All I can do is nod, my tongue deciding to not move in fear I might upset her again. After a moment of silence Carlisle, my psychiatrist walks into my room.
"Go ahead and get changed Edward, the train is about to leave" he says. "Emmett is already ready to go, he can't stay here on charity any longer." He finishes coldly.
I glare back at him in response biting my tongue. God forbid this institution help the needy out of charity. It's not Emmett's fault he has epilepsy and was thrown out like an animal with nowhere to go. Finally I nod curtly before Esme engulfs me into another hug. As her arms leave me, coldness replaces the warmth. Suddenly I'm no longer afraid of seeing Isabella, but rather to never feel the embrace and acceptance of another. My own parents would never accept me, insane or not, how could another? Esme was something of chance, a part of the universe gone wrong and somehow it ended up in my favor. Who's to say it will happen again?
Instead of crying out to her like a child, I stand up straight as she walks away. Quickly changing out of my uniform and into my black suit, I decide to wet my hair down. After agreeing to my appearance, I finish packing and walk to my door. Slowly I turn around to the now empty room and somehow that's how I feel, empty, completely void of any feeling whatsoever.
With resolve, I turn my back to the room and walk briskly down the hall gripping my suitcase as I make my way to where Carlisle is. When I reach the end of the hall, a nurse unlocks the door and Carlisle stands on the other side of it with Emmett.
"Ready?" Carlisle asks with pity leaking its way into his voice.
Emmett eyes me worryingly, knowing I do not handle pity as eloquently as he does, and as to no surprise the pity makes me angry. Carlisle never had the same standing as Esme did, and only she was allowed to get away with something like that.
"Do you make it a habit of asking idiotic questions?" I spit out. "Because honestly, I don't know how you do your job adequately with your never ending stupidity. I think the answer's rather obvious, seeing as how I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't." I sneer.
His eyes go dark with rage and I realize he's counting his breathing to keep himself in check. After spending six years with me, gone was the little insecure boy who couldn't fight for himself. I knew how it felt to be useless, weak and utterly pathetic and by no means would it ever happen again.
Little Edward is gone.
And by God the wake up call my parents are going to have when they realize that. A sick smile twisted its way up my face at the thought. Perhaps I had gone even more mad being locked up than I ever would have been at home.
Pity.
"Well seeing as I straightened you out, you don't have much room to talk young man" he says slowly with his voice tinged with anger.
Immediately I stop walking and suddenly the agitation is wiped clean and absolute fury takes over. Straightened me out? Like hell he did! He did nothing! Absolutely nothing!
"Edward, let it go" Emmett says warning, his gray eyes sharp.
But I cannot let it go, the hatred is too hot, too much to ignore.
"In case you forgot, you claimed I was clinically insane and beyond hope of saving!" I say slowly my voice dripping in venom. "Seeing as you didn't do much after that point, I straightened myself out." I grind out tightly turning to him.
He simply stares at me with anger shining in his eyes, obviously angry that I am calling him out exactly on how it is.
"It had nothing to do with you," I say taking a threatening step forward. "You egotistically, son of a-
"Careful son, don't want to walk right back through those doors do you now?" He cuts in harshly absolutely way too satisfied with his threat that he knows he holds over my head.
Emmett roughly grabs my forearm and starts propelling me forward.
"Forgive him sir, he's just anxious" Emmett states calmly. "Though who could blame him? After all his family abandoned him here and then disappeared for six years." He finishes tightly.
He's saving me, again and I'm grateful that one of us can keep our cool around our self-serving psychiatrist. And despite how angry I am, I will never come back here. I will die before being readmitted. In response I take a shake off his hand but and continue walking forward regaining control. He chuckles at my response but I keep moving forward.
"Leave it, he's a petty man who must make other's feel weak and beneath him to feel anything of worth," Emmett says quietly but coldly and I envy that, his sense of control over his emotions, how he can balance them.
As Emmett and I board, we quickly find a secluded spot on the train. Putting up our suitcases he sits opposite of me and stares out the window. I imagine he's thinking about what to do when he leaves, he has nowhere, but I do not worry about him too much. Emmett is smart and cunning; he'll make it far in life regardless if he knows it or not. His humility is sickening, how talented he is and yet how he doesn't exploit it for his own benefit, his own uses. He doesn't seek power and control, he just wants to do the best he can and help other's do the same.
"When we get off, I'll start looking for a shelter house and a job quickly, hopefully then I can save a little and begin rebuilding," he says while looking out the window.
He's right of course, but the idea that I'm going home to a house and he to a shelter doesn't settle well with me.
"Don't be ridiculous," I say almost curtly. "There's no reason for you to stay in a shelter when you can just take a spare room in my house," I finish.
He just eyes me curiously, obviously not expected the invitation and it slightly hurts that he would think so lowly of me, that I wouldn't extend my hand for a friend in need, especially a friend who has been with me though hell.
"Won't Jack have some issue with that?" He says. "It's almost certain he's not particularly happy about your return, I can only imagine his stance on you bringing home another 'freak.' He finishes.
He's right and I feel slightly guilty about my thoughts before, but Jack can deal with it or throw both of us out. Emmett is the only true family I have.
"You and I are brothers," I say. "And if he doesn't like it than we can both live in dingy shelters and scrape our way back to the top. I don't need him to rebuild my life." I finish strongly.
The truth is I don't, if there was one thing of use Jack taught me it was never lay down and die, you fight for what it is yours. Nausea sweeps over me and quickly I excuse myself.
Finding my way to the men's room, I quickly lean over and vomit. My anger can only go so far till my fears take over. The idea of seeing Jack again with the possibility of seeing Isabella has my skin white and clammy and my stomach churning. Finally I clean myself up and look in the mirror. My eyes have dark circles beneath them and my skin still a little pale. So I splash water on my face and straighten myself up.
I have no time for fear now.
As I open my compartment door a pretty young blond with blue eyes, sitting opposite of Emmett looks shyly at me. At first I am too captured to say anything, she looks so much like my mother it's striking. Judging by the way Emmett is looking at her and then at me, he's obviously taken interest in the girl and he's so humble and weak he will stay quiet and let me take her from him in a blink of an eye. Finally shaking myself out of my thoughts to keep from looking like a fool, I speak to her.
"Hello," I say quietly.
Suddenly her eyes go wide and I can't help but wonder if I just caught her off guard. For some reason the notion amuses me, seeing as it is she who looks positively ridiculous and not I. She opens and closes her mouth several times stuttering with each word and shifting awkwardly in her seat.
"Have I offended you?" I ask as she just keeps looking at me without replying.
Apparently she hasn't had much experience with the opposite sex. Well I haven't either so I don't have much room to talk, but her behavior is right down adorable. A small smile tugs the corners of my mouth at her discomfort. It has been a while since someone has genuinely made me smile.
"I'm sorry," she suddenly says finally able to collect herself. "It's just that, well you are" she falters out and I accidentally let out a chuckle of amusement.
Her eyes go wide again at the sound.
"Oh my goodness, I'm really messing this greeting up!" She exclaims and finally I go sit by Emmett, opposite of her.
"No," I say shaking my head. "I believe you are doing perfectly fine! It is I who should apologize for obviously making you uncomfortable" I continue as I lean forward and take her hand and lightly kiss the back of it.
I don't miss her sudden gasp and inwardly smirk. Sometimes it's just too easy. You see, being at a mental institution did have its benefits. Women came all the time to look after their elderly fathers and such, and well most found me irresistible, the poor handsome boy who was neglected by his own family, a real tragedy; they could hardly stay away. I was a Casanova of some sorts.
Blood rushes up to her cheeks at my touch and I have to fight to keep that smirk inside my head. Though I don't miss how Emmett turns his head at the gesture, obviously upset how I've just stolen her attention from him. It should make me feel guilty, but I can't help but feel the surge of power flowing through me knowing he saw her first and probably captured her attention first and how he just lets me take whatever I want from him without a fight. The power is addicting, his submission addicting.
"Oh goodness no," she responds slowly taking her hand back. "I believe you acted quite adequately!" She responds enthusiastically. "I'm just not very socially inclined apparently," she trails off embarrassed of herself.
I quickly intervene.
"No, I must have caught you off guard." I say
A smile spreads widely across her face before her eyes take a quick overview of my body. It doesn't take a genius to know she's attracted to me. Of course I am aware of my appearance, and use it often for my benefit and pleasure.
Slowly I extend my hand to hers.
"Edward Mason," I say as I flash a smile. "May I have the pleasure of knowing yours?" I ask.
She blushes that beautiful blush again before responding with a slight giggle.
"Rosalie," she says with a smile. "Rosalie Johnson" she continues.
Soon she looks away from my direct gaze and I chuckle darkly to myself. This girl really is too easy.
"So, what brings you on the train?" I ask.
She looks up immediately and by the look on her face she seems grateful for my interest.
"Well, as I've stated to your friend, I'm coming home" she says excitedly while nodding to Emmett. "I've lived with my grandmother for some time and now it's time for me to return." She finishes.
I just smile and nod.
"So um," she starts out stuttering again. "What about you?" She finally gets out.
Suddenly a tightness in my chest captures my attention. How is one supposed to make conversation when they spent the last six years of their life being institutionalized? Guess they just made it sound good.
"I am also returning home," I say vaguely hoping she'll get the hint and drop it.
She doesn't.
"Oh really, where from?" She continues to pry while finally glancing at Emmett for an answer that he refuses to give as well.
My brain goes into overdrive because there is no way I am about to tell her the truth! If I told her she would be running for the hills, completely unnerved by me. Finally my mind comes to a manageable explanation.
"I was very sick," I say feigning sadness to play the part right. "My parents spent the last six years of my life trying to find a way to save me." I continue as her eyes go wide with shock.
She shifts uncomfortably for a moment before responding.
"Well, did you find what you were looking for?" She asks softly.
A smirk plays up my lips and the look in her eyes tells me she definitely notices.
"Oh I've found it alright," I say looking at her intensely pleasured by seeing that blessed blush gracing our presence once again.
She definitely catches on quick.
The moment is intense but neither of us move or speak. I have to admit, she is lasting a lot longer than I expected. Emmett just turns his head, sulking some at the open flirting that he has no part in.
Suddenly the conductor announces that we're arriving to our destination effectively breaking the hold on the both of us. Rosalie is the first to look away, but smiles softly to herself. She then turns back towards me and bites her lower lip before speaking.
"Well you know what they say," she says with a glint in her eyes. "Look to the sky, if it blue and sunny then so shall your life be," she says. "And if it stormy, filled with rage and passion, so shall your life be." She finishes quietly before standing up.
"Nonsense, I make my own way" I say firmly but still with a smile. "And I prefer Machiavelli to Bronte any day." I playfully tease.
She simply shakes her head and heads to the door but pauses for a moment and looks over her shoulder to me.
"Well good luck, and it was a most pleasure meeting you Mr. Mason, Mr. McGrath" she says shyly. "I'm sure we'll meet again soon, considering the size of this town." She finishes with a soft smile before glancing at Abraxas, her blue eyes regarding him with quiet interest, though his back is turned and he cannot see her quickly taking off.
Somehow her comment about the sky bothers me. It really shouldn't, it's completely ludicrous, just a tale tell. But as I look out to the sky and see the dark thunderclouds rolling in, my brows furrow together.
"Nonsense," I say again, this time more for myself than anything.
But I still can't stop the icy cold chill running through my body. I'm home, back to the place where it all began.
Home.
But it didn't feel like it.
Please let me know what you think!