A/N: If you've read the Story of Sarelle and its sequel then this is the document mentioned in chapter 20 and 21 of the sequel. Big spoiler alert so please don't read this if you haven't read up to chapter 20 in the sequel!
The day of Bella and Edward's wedding
The blossoms still effervesced their scent, clouds of hazed air swirled around the now empty rooms. Their fragrance will seep into the fabrics, the floors, the very foundations of this house and will act as a reminder for this day. An imprint of the hours passed as we entertained, celebrated, and watched with smiles on our faces as Edward and Bella were joined in holy matrimony.
But eventually that fragrance will sour and become not as sweet as it once was. It will show the sickly undertone of this day, the small fragment of time when all the wonder was dispelled and we all felt hollow. The prolonged moments when the laughter couldn't warm our hearts, the toasts didn't register in our ears, and the words spoken by Edward and Bella seemed to act like a double edged sword—carving a fresh start and new beginning ahead of us, but all the while cleaving away our past. Ending the era of possibility, the years of wondering, the days of looking for Sarelle.
I turned back to the remainder of my family, each perched in states of thought in our sitting room. We'd each lost something today and for just a moment we needed to recognise that. This day may have been focussed on Edward and Bella, but that didn't mean we should ignore the presence of the girl we each cared for deeply.
When I saw her sitting there, that look on her face, no words could describe the feeling that pooled within me.
Had I failed her, caused her pain somehow by not finding a reason for her jumps, for not finding a way to stop them? She was, is, like a daughter to me, a part of our family. She's always been a part of our family, from the very moment she offered us a smile or a word of comfort throughout our pasts. She's occupied my mind, held my attention, and stretched the very limits of my understanding and faith just by existing.
I could still remember the first time we met, or at least the first meeting I was able to keep with me in memory. That day when she came into the hospital with Esme clung to her arm, just two adolescent girls, so similar in age and yet just a glance into their eyes showed how different they truly were. Esme was so innocent, so open to the world and her emotions. It was that openness and innate ability to forgive which drew me to her on first sight. She was in agony and yet she seemed to forgive the very workings of fate without a single grumble.
Sarelle's eyes showed something else. Not only did they send a chime of recognition down my spine, but they seemed alive with flames and fiery resilience. Just one glance and I knew she wasn't settled or content. She didn't live life the way the other humans around me did and she wasn't one to forgive fate's workings so easily. The gold in her eyes glinted too vibrantly with determination, the hazel sparkled too much with recognition and relief, and the deep brown hid too many secrets.
Sarelle couldn't hide, not when her eyes lay open like a door to her soul. She may not have been able to hide, but she could certainly act and hold her composure. That was a trait that I later learned was a strong constant in Sarelle's character. Perhaps it had always been there, or perhaps it had developed naturally. Either way I couldn't stand the idea that it was something that had been forced into her, a mechanism that had been a by-product of mistrust, neglect, or hurt. I hated the idea that Sarelle could have been harmed or mistreated.
On that first meeting, our first true conversation, the burning curiosity inside me sparked. She was something new, something no book had ever revealed to me. A myth without an origin. If I had known then that she would become a solid part of my later life then perhaps I would have tried harder to make her explain. Then again she could never have done so because she already knew that it had never happened. She already knew of my ignorance because she had already experienced it in her past. She knew that my future self had no knowledge of her condition because it was with that self that she experimented and tested. Those few months in Belmore where we tried every medical examination and machine to try and unlock her condition and the cure for it.
In a strange way Sarelle acted as my compass, a guide to show that I was on the right path. She knew my future and by telling me the small details that she did, it offered me comfort. The decisions that came my way didn't seem to hold as much uncertainty because I knew that somehow it all came together.
Unfortunately I could never give that to Sarelle. In fact, what had I ever truly given her?
"Carlisle." I felt Esme's hand rest on my shoulder and I turned my gaze away from the minute specks of pollen floating through the air to look upon my wife's angelic face.
She was the one truly beautiful thing in my life. Sunsets held no comparison, diamonds lacked her lustre. Nothing could compare to my love, and the warmth radiating from my still heart told me that nothing ever would.
I raised my hand to clutch her own as it stroked circles on my shoulder. Her eyes showed her own pain, and yet as always she chose to ignore her own healing in favour of offering me comfort.
"Yes, love?" I murmured as I placed a kiss on her knuckles, savouring the smell of honey and lavender as it drifted from her skin.
"She was really here, wasn't she," Esme whispered and if she were human her voice would show the strain of her emotions.
I nodded, unable to verbally acknowledge that Sarelle had been within metres of us all and yet none of us bar one had been able to talk with her.
"I barely saw her, Carlisle. She was right here with us and I hardly got to see her. What if that was my last chance. I never got to hold her, talk to her. " Esme looked off to the darkness outside the window as her lips pressed together and her eyes mirrored my own regrets.
"There may be other chances, love. We don't know what the future holds. You know that, Sarelle has taught us that much. After all we never expected..." I cut my words short because I can't stand to cause my wife pain and that is what she would feel if I finished. But it was the truth, after last time, we never expected to see Sarelle again.
"Did she look well? I can't bear the thought that she was injured. The very idea of how she must be surviving, out there alone in the world. It's torture to think of her that way." Esme's voice broke slightly so I pulled her into my arms. It wasn't just for her comfort but for my own. It comforted me to know she felt the things I did, that I could protect her and help her like this, but most of all it comforted me to know that I would never have to worry about her slipping through my fingers and disappearing. I could hold her this way forever, until the very end of eternity and I would never have to plan for a time when she dissolved in front of me. Not like how Edward had to plan for the moment Sarelle left him.
I clutched my wife a little closer as she whimpered into my shirt, no tears to stain the cloth.
"She's strong, Esme, and she's fierce, and she looked...well."
"Life can be so cruel. I adore Bella, truly, but I love Sarelle as one of my own as well and I can't take this feeling that she's suffering."
"I know, believe me I know."
We stood like that for a few moments, just breathing in each other's scents and allowing ourselves to face the emotions together. We'd lost a daughter tonight, or at least we had been forced to say goodbye again and time hadn't eased the pain at all.
I felt Esme shift against me as her head raised and her eyes searched mine.
"How old was she, Carlisle?" Her eyes were hopeful as they implored me to answer. We all knew the significance of this question. It had at first been a harmless inquisition, a way to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. However, as of late, it had become the only question that really mattered.
"Sixteen, I believe. She looked a mere month or so older than when she left Belmore." My voice was sombre when I replied and Esme nodded slowly, her face set in the same tone as my voice.
"Did you feel her, Jasper? Was she OK?" Esme turned in my arms back towards the rest of the family, bursting the bubble that seemed to have formed around us.
Jasper smiled tightly, some peace relaxing his lips, as he stroked Alice's hair.
"She will be fine. She's a survivor." Esme's smile flickered on her face at Jasper's words.
"There were some feelings...between her and Edward. Clear as day, and just as strong as the day she left but I got a lot of acceptance as well. He's chosen Bella. He's married her. Sarelle's accepted that, to an extent." I nodded as Jasper shifted uncomfortably. I saw the look on Sarelle's face; I wouldn't have wanted to feel her emotions.
"If there's still feelings there then maybe, when she comes back, they'll get back together. I would rather have Sarelle than Bella. At least she's a true member of this family, not some girl trying to force her way in," Rosalie spat as she flicked her hair with disapproval.
"Bella is a part of this family, Rosalie, you must accept that, and when the two of them return from the honeymoon, you cannot play devil's advocate," I said firmly.
"Devil's advocate. You mean tell Bella about Sarelle? Why not? Edward should have done it already. He should have stopped being such a coward and told Bella. In fact he shouldn't have been so idiotic in the first place and had a bit more strength to hold out for Sarelle. He gave up too easily." Rosalie's eyes sparked before she jerked away from Emmett's lap and instead sat staring out at the night. We knew she felt Sarelle's appearance and disappearance more than the rest of us. It just brought the guilt back to the surface.
"Do you think we'll ever see her again?" Emmett asked into the stony silence.
"I don't know, she could have been only sixteen today, that makes her younger than last time."
"We should never have let her go in alone," Rosalie whispered causing Emmett's hand to grasp hers where it sat in her lap.
"Rose, we didn't really have a choice, she knew that. She wouldn't have listened if we told her to do anything other than go to him. You've got to give it to her; she was stubborn right until the end."
"Do you think that really was the last...Do you think there's a chance she'll come back?" Esme said as she curled her arms around my waist and rested her head on my chest.
"I'll check the timeline we have so far, but I really don't know, my love. I think, given the knowledge we have gathered between us, that we must prepare for the possibility that we won't see her again," I replied before placing a kiss on my wife's head.
"I wish I could see her, just once. If I could then maybe I could have stopped it." Alice's light voice tinkled.
"Don't think about it, darlin'. Your inability to see her has nothing to do with your gift. It's simply that the future can't hold her. She doesn't exist in time the way we do," Jasper reassured her as I smiled in agreement and released Esme, leaving up the stairs as she sat comforting Rose.
I went straight to my office. I knew this route as if it were ingrained into my mind. I had taken it so many times, easing open the right hand drawer of my desk and removing the hidden compartment as always. Of course over the years the appearance of the document inside had changed slightly, but all the same it made my chest tighten. When I first started it, it had merely been a point of interest. I wanted to see if we could map her existence, track her jumps. However as time passed and jumps came and went, the feelings of interest and curiosity soon decomposed into regret, fear, and sadness.
I lifted the battered pages into my palms and placed the document on the cherry wood of my desk. Opening the rustling pages I began to read...
The Known and Recorded History of Miss Sarelle St Clair
This document is the property of Dr Carlisle Cullen and holds within it the collated events and dates which concern the timeline of one Miss Sarelle St Clair.
The recorded dates and events have been divulged by members of the Cullen family and have been noted voluntarily in a joint project to document the presence of Miss St Clair throughout time. The information given for each entry may differ due to personal agreements or the extent to which the mind can remember. Some entries may have been divulged by Miss St Clair herself to the family and/or individual family members. In the case of this the family member to whom she revealed the information will be responsible for making that entry and also deciding to which degree they detail the entry. The entries will be arranged within chronological order within the file. If an entry predates its predecessor then the order will be rearranged accordingly.
This timeline was started on the day of February 17th 1952 and is complete up to this date and shall stay forever in progress for as long as Miss St Clair lives.
I, Carlisle Cullen, hereby state the fact that, in the year of 1663, Sarelle stayed with my human self for the period of eight months in London when she was aged nine through to the early years of her being ten. This information was given by Sarelle, herself.
Entered February 17th 1952.
I, Jasper Whitlock Cullen, was told by Sarelle that she stayed in DeSoto, Texas for a short period during the year of 1863. Here she turned twelve. Written August 19th 1952.
Written by Edward Anthony Masen Cullen.
I know our days together are numbered and so I feel this project is even more impatient than ever before. Unfortunately I find myself torn. My mind is constantly switching between researching and recording, and spending my time with Sarelle. My heart tells me the latter is more pressing, however I try my best to find these odd moments when Sarelle is asleep and I can tear myself away to note down my memory. So I shall do the task which I left her side with the intention to do As told by Sarelle, I am informed that she spent a small period of time, approximately three months, in Chicago during the year of 1905. It was here she turned eleven before leaving a short time after. Recorded March 6th 1952.
Written By Edward Anthony Masen Cullen.
I asked Sarelle to marry me today. It was amongst the place where we first met, the library. Her face was lit with the soft daylight which filtered from the tall arched windows and in her eyes was a peaceful appreciation for the literature she looked upon. She was such a beauty standing there that my words left on their own accord. She refused, although I could see it was not for lack of wanting. However it was this event that triggered the revelation of a faint memory in my mind. It was another memory linked to the one which Sarelle disclosed to me concerning her short day trip during 1910 to Chicago when she was aged thirteen. It's a tentative memory, hidden by the years of others piled upon it, however it sparked in my mind and I can only think of it as a hidden treasure finally found. Sarelle and I are sitting side by side on the piano bench in my old home. I ask her to marry me when we are older and her answering laughter is music to my ears. She is so lovely in her violet dress and flowing blonde hair that I as a young boy am uncharacteristically shy in her presence. Now this memory is found I shall keep it forever sacred in my mind for it is a small snippet of the history we share. A history that will be priceless when she's gone. Another point regarding this memory is that I believe from here she visited Aslo, although this is merely conjecture and should not be treated as fact.
This is all I can afford to note at this moment as my love is waking and we cannot afford for her to know of this document, not yet.
Recorded April11th 1952.
I hereby declare what I remember as my first encounter with Sarelle. It occurred in the year 1911 at the place known as Ashland. She came in, coincidentally, with Esme who was sixteen at the time. I believe Sarelle was also of this age as she spoke of knowing myself very well. I remember thinking her very perplexing but felt inclined to believe her. To this day her words still ring in my mind: no one can last eternity alone. I hope and pray that, as I did, she finds someone for I am sure, even as I write this that she must leave us someday. Entered by Carlisle Cullen, February 17th 1952.
So we're supposed to write in black, or blue, or some other official looking ink but I can't be doing with that. Plus I think purple looks so much prettier, I think Sarelle would agree. Anyway, I don't have any memories of my own, not from my human life, so I can only write down what Sarelle has told me. It was only recently, while we talked fashion, that I found a dress printed with the name of Newalk Asylum. Sarelle then told me that she had stayed there for a long time when she was eleven. I'm not sure what the year was, but the printing on the dress suggests a time around 1912. I know we're not supposed to really put feelings in here, Carlisle wants it to stay strictly factual but this is about life, right? Sarelle's life and she was never oen to live without emotion, not really. So it seems kind of wrong to keep it all skin and bones, not beating heart, no emotion. So consider this the first little piece of living flesh added to this skeletal piece of scientific writing, when we talked, when I saw that dress and Sarelle's face I saw so much more than what was in front of me. Her eyes shut down, almost like someone had just cut the shutter cord and let the blinds fall over the sunlight. Something happened in Newalk Asylum, either something that scared her, something that changed her, or maybe just something she doesn't feel ready to tell us. Maybe it was all three. Either way it scares me that this strong girl, this wonderfully resilient person who I call my best of friends has endured something that, just by memory, has the power to shut her down.
Alice Cullen, entered August 14th 1952
Alice again. It's been a while since I had anything to put in this. I'm at the disadvantage of not remembering my human memories which seem to hold more useful information than my vampire ones. I learnt just today that Sarelle knew me prior to my new life! Cataclysmic knowledge or what!
Anyway, back to business. I can't be positive but I think Sarelle may have returned to the Asylum after her first visit. I guess this would slot sometime before the night she helped Rosalie because she showed me a picture of me and her in the same violet dress that had blood stains on it. If she did visit, it couldn't have been for very long. She told me I had a vision of burning which seems like it must have been close to when I was changed so my guess is that it was in 1918, maybe 1919. She was older than the first time so I think about thirteen. I realise this is the first of two entries I've written on this date, but they both concern different dates. This entry fills the short gap which existed between Rosalie's attack and Sarelle's jump to Belmore. I just hope it helps.
Entered March 16th 2005
Entered by Carlisle Cullen, February 17th 1952
From my memory there are many moments which involve Sarelle, this is one of a few that occurred during the year 1917. She was at the Halloween Ball in Chicago and I would place her age at sixteen, however a conversation we had indicated she had only just turned sixteen. Another memory within the same time period is a ball in Chicago during the month of February. It would be the following year and therefore 1918. However I am to assume she had not jumped in the months since November as she was in attendance with Edward Masen (now Edward Cullen) and had been courting him, according to rumour, for some months. My final entry from this time period took place during the week ending April 4th. She attended the hospital with Elizabeth Masen, and Edward Masen after the death of Edward Masen Senior. It is known that Sarelle's birthday is on October 10th. Therefore I presume she was aged sixteen and a half when she left Chicago.
Written by Edward Anthony Masen Cullen.
I enter this information with a heavy heart, for it from a time that I prefer to forget. However it is important, just as all our entries, that I divulge this information. My own disgust must not deter me from revealing what I prefer to hide given that there is hope that this information will aid me in helping my love, Sarelle St Clair. I first encountered her, in my vampire form, on the night of March 14 1931. It was within a dark alley in New York that I found her, fighting valiantly with two men who were far too big and brutish for her to win. I can say no more of what occur except that she received a knock to the head, leaving her with a small cut on her forehead. It grieves me to this very day to know she saw me as a true monster. That is all I have time to write as she lays here beside me, sleeping like and angel in my arms and I can't help but become distracted by her dreams. If this small part of my past may ensure me a future with her then I allow my demons to lie on show to all those who read this.
Recorded June 17th 1952
I write this on behalf of myself, my husband (Carlisle Cullen), and my son (Edward Cullen). I can remember only one prior meeting with Sarelle, something I feel most saddened by as I can cling only to this meeting and my more recent love for her as fruit for my memories now she is gone. I hated that day when she left. The pain of losing returned and I felt so vulnerable to it, just as the last time I lost a child. It was no less agonising, in fact worse so because it seemed on that day that we lost Edward as well.
However, this document is not for our emotions, and I shall try and state the facts as plainly as possible. We three were in attendance of an engagement ball on a night in 1935, when I first met Sarelle. It was in fact Rosalie's engagement but of course we didn't know what she would mean to us then. I remember Sarelle and Edward talking, and I remember meeting her and thinking her a lovely girl. It wasn't until later that I discovered her unfortunate ability. By her confidence and posture I would place her age at sixteen, perhaps just past sixteen and a half. I hope this entry proves beneficial. If you ever read this, Sarelle, we all miss you, terribly. You were a daughter to me and a friend to us all. I can't imagine that we will ever quite be able to accept your absence from our lives, but as a mother I cannot focus upon my own loss, merely your welfare. Please stay safe, please be happy, and please most of all remember always that you are loved and you have a place you can call home.
Written by Esme Cullen on the date of November 2nd 1955
Emmett Cullen: I chose to record this one since it's about my hometown and I love a chance to talk about the great Tennessee. The bummer is that you never went into much detail; you didn't give us a date or an age. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say is was about 1935, since that's the year I was changed and I have a vague memory of someone who smelt like you, as crude as that sounds. As for your age, maybe thirteen since you had been living here, at Belmore, since you were fourteen. Might be wrong but there's a few holes in this thing anyway so maybe the ages won't matter too much until we get older and older. How weird will it be if you end up older than me? You'll be my little big sis. In a way I guess you kind of are already. You taught me a lot Sarelle, gave me something back. I've always liked being a vampire. It's fun, all the running, power, immortality, but you gave me back the importance of each day. You lived life and you did it with style, lil sis, so thanks for reminding me that each day counts. I guess as a vamp you can lose that understanding after a while. Anyway this was written August 19th 1952
Rosalie Cullen, 16th February 1956.
I told you I would keep the secret, and I have. Esme has, Alice has. We haven't told a soul, but I couldn't keep this date out of the file, Sarelle. No date can be kept out of the timeline, especially after these past few years. He's a shell, Sarelle.—Edward that is. So if this date helps I will not feel remorse for revealing it. The night of my rape, 1933, Sarelle St Clair was aged thirteen, she was there.
I was prompted to write this down by the fact it was Alice and mine's anniversary today. We met in Philadelphia twenty years ago today. It was in a small cafe when I saw her, and there I remember feeling a strong wave of recognition. At the time it seemed odd given it was a human girl who was feeling it, but now I know it was Sarelle. She already knew us, so I can only presume she was about fifteen, maybe sixteen. She had a pale pink dress on that smelt of meadows and detergent. She was celebrating her birthday with a small cupcake and a candle. Perhaps that was why I felt inclined to write this. Today is a bad day for all of us, and I feel it most. If this is the only gift I can give her then so be it. Happy birthday, Sarelle.
Jasper Whitlock Cullen.
Entered: October 10th 1968
Sarelle St Clair, alive and living in Belmore 1951 until September 1952 when she left aged fifteen. She left and when she did she took me with her, all that's left is this shell, this body with limbs and power but nothing more. Nothing left.
– E. Cullen, February 5th 196
(come back to me, angel.)
I write this with an urgency that I hope will not affect the accuracy with which I record it. I have just this minute returned from the forests around the mountains. I know Edward suspects something but I am hoping I can postpone telling him for a short time. While hunting I heard a scream, one not just of pain or surprise but of torture. I ran to the place from which I thought it came, and my eyes fell upon a sight no father, nor friend, should have to endure. She was seemingly disorientated, her body in severe pain. I noted sparks, and a hum of current around her body. She did not respond to my touch, and appeared at times unable to hear me. I had up until this point thought that to change Sarelle would be for her benefit, now I am almost certain it would be her death.
Entered by Carlisle Cullen, February 16th 1952
I write this as I think of her and the memories we have shared. It has been ten years since she disappeared. Ten years since I was left behind. Ten years of wondering, waiting, existing just to watch the time pass. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why is my love intensified by her absence?
I find I digress from my reason for writing this. It was after my return from our hunting trip in the mountains in Washington. We were in our meadow and I learnt a whole segment of my loves past that I never knew about. Of course I have learnt much more since. Again I find my mind wandering. The information I came here to record was that Sarelle once told me of the future, the only occurrence in which she found herself in it, or at least it was to my knowledge. She was twelve and she jumped to Florida 1989. She met a woman, Renee, there and her daughter. I wonder if Renee is a larger part of her life than she once mentioned. Could the holes that appear in this document be filled by her? If only I knew more than her name, perhaps she could help.
- E. Cullen, November 3rd 1965 (come back, just once, please.)
We're getting closer, or at least that is the feeling for many of us. I don't know if Edward has written in this, or even thought about it, since he met Bella. Sometimes that angers me, but I'm just as bad, aren't I. Sarelle was my best friend, my first true friend who wasn't my family. I couldn't imagine finding someone else like her, but I have and I feel almost like that's a betrayal. Still, I care for Bella. Even if Rosalie can't understand it, or resents it, it's still true. She reminds me of Sarelle in so many ways. Sometimes it's just the way she lets me dress her up, although she doesn't seem as interested in it as Sarelle was. Then there's her choice in literature or the startling fact that Clair de Lune is her favourite Debussy just as it was Sarelle's. Of course they're very different people, once you remove the likes and dislikes. I would never judge Bella but I sometimes think that perhaps Sarelle is stronger than her; at least she gave that impression when I saw her today. Of course that is why I started this.. The newest entry in forty years. I know Carlisle still pours over this, searching for the patterns or the sequences. I think he might be close, but maybe that's just wishful thinking. Is it selfish to want Sarelle back, to want two best friends? Two people to take shopping and dress up. I would love that, and I think Jasper would too. He seems a little reluctant to shop with me. I think perhaps he resents the invention of Shopping Malls.
Anyway today I saw Sarelle, just for a matter of hours but it was precious. She told me my past! As much as she could at least. It hurt to think she had hid it from me all those years but I forgive her, I have to because she's gone again and it hurts just like last time. Edward doesn't know she was there, at the hospital, but I'm sure he'll find out soon. I wish I could have found out more but she seemed a bit distracted, I think it might have had something to do with the cut she had on her head. I asked how she got it and she said it was an accident, but I think we all know Sarelle rarely injures herself by accident. I'm guessing it was after her time in New York. Anyway when I saw her today she was seventeen but only just. I think that's everything, except of course the date. The date today is March 16th 2005.
Alice Cullen.
A confession by Rosalie Cullen.
Why didn't I stop her? Why didn't I dissuade her and Emmett of that foolish plan? Edward doesn't know, not yet. He doesn't deserve to in my mind. He gave up on her the day he saved Bella from the van. What I don't understand is how Sarelle knew he hadn't chosen her and yet she still ran to his rescue. How could she want to save him when she knew he wasn't going to be hers afterwards? Maybe that's the clue right there. She knew he wouldn't be hers, she went anyway, so maybe she never expected to come out of there. But why would she be so selfish and force me to live with this?
We should have stopped her; we should have stayed in Denali. Maybe if we had she would be sitting right here with us where she belongs. It has taken longer than it should have, or maybe it's just taken me longer recognise it but I know it now, she was a part of our family. She always has been even when we didn't know it or we weren't a family yet. She was the element of our memories that tied us all together. She was a part of all our lives both human and otherwise. Who was Bella to try and fill that space? She was praised as a saviour, the reason Edward survived, and I know on some level she probably was. But I can't help feeling that Sarelle did something. The Volturi don't give second chances, not without getting something in return. Something happened in that castle that meant Edward, Alice and Bella left it but Sarelle didn't.
So this is my confession. I, Rosalie Cullen, led Sarelle aged seventeen to Volterra on the date of March 20th 2006 and she never returned.
...So many entries, so many years. Some I've read through many times, others I've written with my own hand. Still all together they form a map of jumps, times, and places that would baffle even the best physics majors. Still reading wasn't the sole reason for my visit up here.
I opened my left hand drawer and slid from it a blank piece of paper, the same crisp paper that all my entries were written on. Jasper preferred odd scraps to write his notes on, Alice scented hers with perfume, Edward used the finest parchment, and the others favoured lined. I chose this blank, stark white, piece of A4.
I lifted my pen from the pot and hovered it over the page, would this be the last entry?
With that thought my pen hit the pages and I set about writing another page of history...
I have puzzled over this timeline for years now, fifty four years and six months to be exact, and if I am honest with myself, and with this document, as I endeavoured to always be, then I would have to say that I did not think I would write another entry, not after the last one that was written.
However, here I sit at the same desk I have had these past years, documenting the event which occurred just today. For many of us it was like seeing a ghost when we saw Sarelle seated amongst the guests. We should have noticed her earlier, for her scent is potent to us all. Not in the sense in which Bella's scent is potent to Edward, but more that Sarelle's scent is one we look for constantly. We revel in its fragrance because it's the essence of her. Like hearing a lost one's voice on the telephone, or seeing their faces in photographs. Her scent reminds us of her, reminds us of what she means to us all. Therefore, we should have been held at attention when it drifted through the room, but we weren't. Not because we care any less, or our attention span couldn't deal with all the activities around us, but more that we didn't expect her there, and her scent lingers with us anyway due to the bag of belongings she left with us. It has released her fragrance even since the day she left it in Denali before embarking on the adventure documented prior to this entry. So it wasn't until I saw her that I realised she was really there. And when I saw her, it was as if my heart broke. From the happiness of seeing her once again, from the sadness of seeing she wasn't any older than seventeen, from the feeling of failure when I saw the confusion and hurt in her eyes. The paternal need to comfort her was no new occurrence, but the conflict was.
In the past I hadn't thought twice about offering her whatever comfort I could, but today I couldn't because I was there to support a union of two people I cared for dearly. I couldn't disrupt Edward and Bella's wedding to explain or console. No matter how much I wanted to. All I could do was stand there and watch her tears fall. I battled with myself throughout the ceremony, but by the time it ended she wasn't in sight.
We each wanted to go to her, more than anything we wanted to see her one more time but we each knew that the only person who had a true need to see her was Edward. He needed that time more than any of us. He loved Bella, that much was clear, but I knew he still pined for Sarelle. It was obvious in the way he left Bella's bedside at night to look through Sarelle's photographs, read her diary, and remember who she was and how they were together. I cannot judge whether my son is right or wrong in his actions, for I myself have never lost one as dear to me as Sarelle was to Edward. I could however gauge how it must feel because I have lost a daughter, a friend, a girl who has offered me comfort and guidance throughout my years.
You will note that I have written the word 'lost', not missing or absent but lost. It is a terrible conclusion, one I wish this timeline had never come to. However I cannot deny the facts that glare up at me from this document. Whether our actions have caused this outcome, or whether this was merely the workings of God, or fate, it seems this life which we have recorded upon these pages has come to an end. I will of course keep this document safe within its file in the hope it will one day be removed to note yet another entry. If no new entry is ever written then I hope this segment, which I have written, will stand as the final piece within the puzzle which has been Sarelle St Clair's life. Her life has been a most unusual and intriguing tale, one which I am sure will puzzle me for centuries to come. However, perhaps this document will be of use or will at least enrich the tapestry of the world around us.
Until we meet again, Sarelle, adieu.
Recorded by Carlisle Cullen, August 13th 2006.
Daddy doesn't know. Daddy doesn't want to know. He doesn't know that I know, of this document, of her, of it all. Mom doesn't know, maybe she doesn't want to. But I do, and I've seen her, or at least I saw her, for a moment. It was quick, like a figment of my imagination, like the images I can create, except she was real, I know she was because her screams still echo in my ears.
She's dying.
She's changing.
And I have a feeling; it won't be long before everything else will too.
R.C
(10/10/2021)