Esme POV:
We both sat on our bed and I pulled out the first journal, Vera's. I decided to read it out loud to Carlisle and to myself. He could help the kids too.
"In every war, there is an enemy. I watched my mother being half beaten to death and watched as blood and tears streamed down her face. I felt useless and scared and furious at the same time. Oh, god. That poor woman, that poor girl! Imagine if I had a child with Charles, they would have to go through the same thing Vera did," I was starting to cry. So, I handed Carlisle the next one, Jasper's.
"I can still feel the sting of the belt on my back and my legs. I can smell the alcohol on their breaths. My father and my brother Royce whip me all the time for helping my sister. When I came home from a Little League baseball game at age seven, I saw her sprawled out on her bed, naked, bloody, and crying. I watch her get kicked around every single day. I feel guilty that I can't ever stop those monsters. My parents don't let us do anything, even homework. We're all alone in this world, trapped, helpless,"
"Read Rosalie's," I said bravely. I had to know the reason behind her rudeness.
"When you're seven, you're innocent. When you're seven, you played with dolls and called your friends for sleepovers. You wear pink dresses and imagine to find your Prince Charming because you feel like Cinderella. When I was seven, I experienced pain in my private area. My then eighteen year old brother, Royce said he wanted to play a game. I had no idea what he did or why he did it. I just knew that it hurt like hell. When I was eight, my belly got big. I thought I was getting fat. My mom beat me and said I seduced my brother. I didn't know what that word meant. She said I was pregnant. I was having a baby in the third grade. I named her Ashley. She's got cerebral palsy and needs a wheelchair. When I was in sixth grade, I learned what rape meant. I knew then that I was raped at a young age. This past spring, my father played the same game with me. It hurt, like fire. My mom said I stole my dad and she gave me a bad beating. I'm gonna have a baby again, any day now. My birthday is tomorrow and no one cares but Jasper and Ashley. The reason I was up all night was because my parents don't let me do my homework. They think it's trash. They ripped up my Romeo and Juliet book like animals. They have me make meals and clean up for them all the time. They beat me up. Royce tosses me around like a rag doll. My dad and Royce spoon me in bed all the time. And I was wearing sunglasses because my mother punched me in the face and then in the eye and she gave me a split lip. My choker covers the bruises that ring around my neck from years of my father and Royce gripping me around the neck and pushing me up against the wall. I feel dirty and used. One of these days, I will die. And I want it to be soon, to end this torture that I go through each day,"
I hugged my knees to my chest and put my hand over my mouth while I cried. Carlisle's voice was cracking as he read. This was hard for him, too. I felt nauseous at what she had to go through.
"Oh, God," I whimpered. "Let's just read this to ourselves," I picked up Alice's journal.
You know that song, Runaway Love? The song by Mary J. Blige and Ludicris? That first part, about Lisa? If you haven't heard it, then listen-cuz it's good. At age nine, I was ready to go to fourth grade. Instead, my father was taken for not paying his bills on time. My mom was killed in a drive-by. Only my then-sixteen year old sister was with me. She became my legal guardian. The first time she went out, she came home drunk. Some guy came into my bedroom and hurt me. I discovered I'd been raped, when I found out what it meant when I was in sixth grade. She brings home men different hours of the night and comes home wasted. It's happened since I was nine. Cynthia barely knows I'm alive. We rarely speak, and I've only seen her in club gear or her pajamas. She makes me do everything-it's like I'm living on my own. Sometimes, I can't do it all. I've had nervous breakdowns, and there was no one there to hug me and tell me everything was all right. Cynthia doesn't hurt me, she just ignores me. She throws house parties sometimes, and I'm up all night, because it's so loud in my house. When she brings home the men, they rape me for two hours, and that's why I'm so tired all the time. She says it's a sin to cry when she sees tears falling down my cheeks. I just want to be loved.
"I knew it," I sobbed into Carlisle's chest. "Okay, Emmett's next,"
A mother's love is supposed to be nice. At age twelve, I was raped by my mom. She said she loved me, but it was incestuous. My father blamed me for it and beats me all the time. Everyone calls me a motherfucker, but it's the other way around. I hate them both. He gave me a black eye and she only loves me because she says my dick is huge and I'm sexy. I feel dirty when her drunken body lays on top of me and she starts moaning with pleasure. My dad tells me I'm stealing my mom from him. The truth is my mom's cheating on him with her son.
No wonder Emmett yelled at me when I touched him! Oh, God. I felt sick for the second time tonight. I was angry at Cynthia, and disgusted by Rosalie, Jasper, and Emmett's parents. And I could totally relate to Vera's, because her mom went through the same thing I did! Jacob didn't write much. I could read this out loud.
"One time, he couldn't pay the rent. And that night he stopped us on the street and pointed to the concrete. He said, "Pick a spot. "
"Poor guy," Carlisle said.
"Yeah, no wonder he's so frustrated," I responded. I picked up the next one. It was Sam's.
"Randy was my boy. He had my back plenty of times. We was like one fist, me and him,
one army. One day, I accidentally shot him. I sat there till the police came. But when they come, all they see is a dead body, a gun and a native. They took me to juvenile hall. First night was the scariest. Inmates banging on the walls, throwing up their gang signs, yelling out who they were, where they're from. I cried my first night. Can't never let nobody know that. I spent the next few years in and out of cells. Every day I'd worry, "When will I be free?"
"My brother taught me what the life is for a young Latino man. Do what you have to, pimp, deal, whatever. Learn what colors to learn, gang boundaries. You can stay on one corner, you can't stay on another. Learn to be quiet. A wrong word can get you popped," That was Ben's. Next, I read his girlfriend's, Angela's.
"If you look in my eyes, you'll see a loving girl. If you look at my smile, you'll see nothing wrong. If you pull up my shirt, you'll see the bruises. What did I do to make him so mad? I thought I loved him. Ben treats me like a woman, and I love him,"
"She's like me," I whispered. I picked up another journal, Embry's. "At 16, I've seen more dead bodies than a mortician. Every time I step out my door, I'm faced with the risk of being shot. To the outside world, it's just another dead body on the street corner. They don't know that he was my friend,"
Next, I read Leah's.
"During the war in Cambodia, the camp stripped away my father's dignity. He sometimes tries to hurt my mom, my brother, and me. I feel like I have to protect my family,"
"I was having trouble deciding what candy I wanted, then I heard gunshots. I looked down to see that one of my friends had blood coming out of his back and his mouth. The next day, I pulled up my shirt and got strapped with a gun I found in an alley by my house. I don't even know how this war started. It's just two sides who tripped each other way back. Who cares about the history behind it?"
That was Seth's journal.
"I am my father's daughter. And when they call me to testify, I will protect my own no matter what. Nobody cares what I do. Why should I bother coming to school?" Poor Emily.
"My friends are soldiers, not of war, but of the streets. They fight for their lives," Peter.
"I hate the cold feeling of a gun against my skin. It makes me shiver. It's a crazy-ass life," Charlotte.
"Once you're in, there's no getting out. Every time I jump somebody in and make someone a part of our gang, it's another baptism. They give us their life, we give them a new one," Paul.
"I've lost many friends who have died in an undeclared war. To the soldiers and me, it's all worth it. Risk your life dodging bullets, pulling triggers. It's all worth it," Kate.
I read the rest of the journals and couldn't stop my tears. We just slept in our clothes, snuggled into each other, and thought of ways to help these kids.
Read and review, please! Your choice-what do you want to happen next-Esme stops someone from raping Rosalie in an alley or Rosalie has the baby or Esme yells at Cynthia or they all dance on tables and learn to slow dance for homecoming? One thing is for sure, though-Esme will be picking up Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett for school the next morning with her husband!
