Based on characters from the Twilight© by Stephanie Meyers. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.
52 LOVE OR DEATH
I listened for my parents as usual on my way south and no one was home. I headed toward the unoccupied house. Their scent was strong which meant they were still living there. I had decided to go for a quick look in the window and was close to the house when I heard them returning from their hunt. Their minds were relaxed as they were preparing for the evening's activities. Carlisle was off to the hospital and Esme was working on a new design. I lingered too long basking in the warm familiar flavor of their minds, unsullied and contented. I was almost delirious with joy, I missed them terribly. So when I headed toward my next destination the strong breeze blew my scent directly to them.
Edward? Carlisle caught my scent and his thoughts raced; he knew it was me and that I was nearby. Esme's thoughts echoed his, and they both started running into the wind heading toward me and my fleeing scent.
"Edward!" he called, his voice echoed across the distance. Esme's voice, trapped by emotion, couldn't call out. I didn't realize how much I missed his voice. It was hard to keep one foot moving in front of the other but I continued to run away. The unbearable thought of him seeing me with blood red irises was enough to keep me moving.
Son, come home, he pleaded then knowing there was no way he could catch me, he stopped moving in my direction. Come home when you are ready. We love you.
Please, Edward. I miss you. Please come home, Esme's mental voice cried out, her heartbreak was very evident as she continued to run, passing Carlisle, still moving toward me. Her heartrending cry very nearly stopped me.
"I love you, too," I shouted emotionally over my shoulder not knowing if they heard me. I was out of range now.
Everything changed after that visit.
I had struggled with my loneliness before but hearing Esme and Carlisle's voices calling to me made it worse. I avoided anything that would reflect my face. I couldn't bear to get a glimpse of what I'd become. To see the crimson glow in my eyes as it denied my family's very existence, I couldn't endure it.
I had been in New York City for over a month and I had found monsters here, one my very first hour in the big city. The next a few hours later but after that I lost interest. I found them but did not pursue them. The thirst burned but I kept thinking about home. Wondering if…
Two weeks later there was a horrifically vile person that I just couldn't let live for any reason. She wasn't much older than I was. She had done such violent and gruesome things in her short life. She was a true monster. Her young intended victim was blissfully unaware of the evil cruelty that had come so close. After I snatched her up I found it impossible to drink any of her blood. I let it cool and congeal with her body buried under five feet of mud in the middle of the Hudson River.
If I hadn't been so mentally distracted I would have recognized my remarkably bizarre behavior.
It was very cold the first week of December, there weren't many people out and the self-indulgent monsters were no different waiting for better weather. I hadn't gone hunting and was not looking forward to doing so anytime soon.
My eyes and my mood were black. I was bored; the thirst burned horribly, but couldn't bring myself to do anything about it. I was losing my focus, becoming very homesick. I wanted to do something besides waiting for monsters to get ready to do their monstrous deeds.
I missed going out in the daylight.
A theater was running the opening night of the movie Frankenstein.** I was curious and wanted to see what they had done interpreting my favorite book into a movie. The theater had sold out all their tickets so I broke into the theater through the roof hatch and watched the movie perched on a massive wall sculpture like a gargoyle in the dark corner of the balcony.
I was mesmerized. The movie was unlike the book but I got caught up in the movie, the audiences' reactions and emotions. As the movie ran to the ending I was horrorstruck not only by the images and the audiences' emotions but my own.
The image of the monster running from the outraged crowd in the movie brought back the vivid memory I'd pulled from Carlisle's past. The good people chased down the old vampire, the evil monster, to destroy it. In human terms there was no such thing as a 'good' monster.
I returned to the roof of the theater. I felt so alone, so terribly alone. Not for the first time but quite definitely more desperately than ever before I missed my father's mind. It had fit so companionably into mine and I missed the comforting awareness of his reassuring love. My sudden anguish brought me to my knees.
Was this how I wanted to spend my eternity? I couldn't share the joy with the families of those I had saved nor could I share the sorrow with the families of those I had killed. I couldn't continue on this path and be with my family which I truly loved. My past feeble rationalizations did nothing to conquer my grief and feeling of loss now.
I had become the monster, the unthinking self-made monster. What was wrong with me that I thought I could evade my earlier principles and ignore everything Carlisle saw in me?
I wasn't a sane monster either, I was just a monstrosity. I had become the evil one, a monster lording over other monsters. There were no 'good' monsters.
I'm not a monster, I thought, attempting to deny what I had become. The thirst lived in me, the beast, that was the monster… but I had freed it, let it become the monster. I had lived for too long in the dark shadows.
Where was the light? The darkness of the film and its bleak reflection of my life made me realize how much I missed the light.
I'd proved to myself early on that human blood wasn't a cure all. The thirst would always be thirsty. The monstrous drive would always be there. All I could do was make a choice.
I wasn't going to heaven. I wasn't going to hell. I was where I was going to be until I ceased to be – that was that. I could make here a hell for myself or I could get as close to heaven as I could.
My family existed. I had a loving family so what was I doing here? Relieving the pain of the burning thirst? To what end? It always came back, at least when I was home I may have been in some pain but I was happy.
I was broken, wounded and wretched. I lived in the darkness and saw only misery, pain, torture and death. I was never happy now even the exquisite temporary relief from the pain didn't bring happiness. I pictured Carlisle's calm face, vivid in my mind. He had tried to tell me that I would be sorry for my rash decision. I had been deluding myself. I had gone too long without thinking about what I was doing.
The beast had buried my real identity, the one that had told me to seek out Carlisle before the monstrous obsession trampled the thought under. The real me that Carlisle thought he knew. The one he had chosen to save at my mother's request because I was good, loving and kind and…had I lost all that?
Was the desire to rid myself of the painful thirst worth leaving my family, the best part of my existence?
No.
I was still here and I knew I couldn't exist like this anymore. I knew I could cope with the constant pain of the thirst that animal blood could somewhat diminish, I had done it. What I couldn't exist without was my family. I'd been trying – it wasn't working.
Carlisle's words called out to me, we love you. I knew who he meant and it wasn't the damaged creature I had become. Esme's last pleading words, please come home, hit me hard, pulling me back to her.
** Frankenstein is a 1931 American horror film from Universal Pictures adapted from the play by Peggy Webling which in turn is based on the novel of the same name by Mary Shelley. The film opened in New York City at the Mayfair Theatre on December 4, 1931.
