Chapter 3: Miserable

With each sob that escapes my lips my mother's heart breaks a little more for me. She holds me closer to her, knowing I'm hurting and doesn't want to let me go until I am ready. I lay here dry sobbing in her comforting embrace.

'Oh. My sweet boy.' My mother runs her fingers through my hair, trying to comfort me. Her "voice" sounds so sad.

I continue to dry sob.

The pain I feel is like none other. I never have known a pain this strong before. I feel horrible beyond belief. This pain weighs me down and eats at my chest where I'm certain there is an invisible hole, right where my dead head heart is supposed to be. I'm sure there's nothing there but a large empty hole. For she took my dead heart with her when we parted ways on a sour note.

For my heart that I don't have seems to know what I'm worth. I'm worth nothing.

Up until now I was not aware that such an unbearable ache could ever exist in this half-life of mine. I don't understand how a dead heart is able to feel pain. I feel like it's splitting in half and I can't explain how that can be. Having these feelings make no sense to me. Up until recently I only thought humans could feel this broken. But here I am, dry sobbing while my mother holds me like a small child.

Closing my eyes while my mother rocks me back and forth, wishing she could take my agony away. I feel like I'm being consumed by the darkness. Like, I'm lost in the thick pitch black of unexplained darkness that appeared out of nowhere and only I can see it. The darkness that only reveals itself to me, is very catastrophic and makes it impossible to see right in front of me. The dark feels weird. It hurts. I desperately want to get out of this dark hole but can't. There is no way. I want to be pulled out of the dark but there's no angel to do so. There never will be agan. How do I go on?

I open my eyes as I sob some more. I see that it's not dark. It's light in the garage/game room. It's just my mind that is making me feel like I'm lost in a constant darkness and can't seem to find my way out.

In my long existence I have often heard that a mind is a very powerful muscle. It can either be your best friend or your worst enemy. I never really understood that saying until now. All I can say is that my mind is not my best friend at the moment.

Another loud sob rolls off my lips. It's a horrible sound that gets caught in my throat. My breathing is erratic and I am shaking.

'My poor baby.' Esme rubs small circles on my back.

The gesture is comforting but still, I feel horrible.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to watch a movie?" She wonders. 'It might help take your mind off of everything.'

"No movies. I'm sure." The words come out low and sad with another sob.

I don't want to do anything.

'Oh my, Son. I'm sorry you are going through this.'

She's sad and racking her mind with ways to bring me a bit of happiness. She's not sure what ideas I might go for since I turned most of them down already.

"Mom," I used the title I reserve for her when I really need her.

Hearing me use her rightful title instead of her first name. She wonders what I need, or perhaps want. She's hoping I might want to go hunting. She is terribly worried about me depriving myself from my needs.

'What is it, my sweet boy?'

"I want the darkness and hearteach to go away." I choked out between sobs. "I hurt so bad."

'Darkness?' My choice of word caught my mother off guard. 'Oh no. This is bad. It's more than teenage anguish. He's depressed. That explains a lot.' She thinks to herself.

Of course, due to my behavior she figured I might have depression ever since we left Forks. But she had been trying not to think that way.

At the same time I let out another sob she takes in a sharp breath.

"I hate my existence. This discomfort won't go away." I sob.

'It will, my sweet boy. It will.' My mother's thoughts are reassuring. "Remember, nothing lasts forever. Especially when you're seventeen." She says out loud, stroking my hair.

My sobs came to an end and my fist ball up.

I know she's trying to do what mothers do when their children are distraught. She's doing her best to try to offer me comforting words to put me at ease, make me feel some kind of relief. However, her words, those words have the opposite effect on me. Where I should feel at ease by what she said I don't. I only feel vexation.

"Unless you're seventeen forever." I remind her curtly.

My tone is rude even though I didn't mean to sound that way. Normally she would remind me to watch my manners as well as my tone. But instead she lets it slide.

"I'm sorry you're hurting." She says sweetly, rubbing my back. 'I hate seeing you suffer.'

I don't respond. I silently curse my damn perfect recall. Unfortunately I will never forget any of this, my first love and the heartache that follows.

Forgetting is impossible for us. Where the girl with the silent mind that I love so much will soon forget me, I'll just be a distant memory like something from a dream to her. But I will never forget her. As long as I exist forgetting her cannot be done no matter how much time has passed. Doesn't matter that I left all her pictures back in Forks inside the closet of my bedroom. The image of her will always be imbeded in my brain.

Trying not to think about the only girl in the world that I will never see again. I let out a sad sigh.

"Edward, I know you're hurting." Esme pats my back. 'You'll be okay. You won't always feel this level of agony. But you really do need to hunt.'

Her thoughts come rushing at me. She really, really wants me to hunt. The image she has in her mind of me makes me appear so weak and frail, like a walking corpse. My eyes are darker than a black hole with big dark circles underneath. The dark circles make it appear that I haven't slept in almost 100 years. Which, if you think about it, is true more or less.

"No." I stubbornly give her a one word answer.

The one word I spoke flew out hot and fast. I was becoming angry and she knew it. Knowing me well enough as she does she understood that my anger was displaced, it wasn't intentionally meant for her.

Esme let out a sad sigh. 'He won't hunt. He doesn't want to watch TV or go outside for a little while. What am I to do? How do I at least get him to hunt?'

I can tell that she is not going to give up trying to get me to hunt. For some reason it begins to bother me. I just want to lay here and do nothing. Why can't she understand that? Moving around seems like too much work for me.

Esme lets out another sigh. She begins to think about the laundry.

"Well, my sweet boy. I must get up and tend to the laundry now." She runs her hand through my hair one last time. "I'll stay in here with you, of course."

I don't have to be a mind-reader to know that she is worried about me. She doesn't want to leave me alone for some reason.

"Can you please turn on the dryer? I'm cold." I mumble. I really want to feel the warmth.

"Of course, my sweet boy." She says as she gets up. 'It's so sad to see you like this.'

Laying in my comfortable fetal position with my eyes shut, I'm trying hard not to think at all. I close my eyes, trying to shut out the world. My body feels so heavy and so cold. I feel like I'm freezing on the inside. I've never felt like this and don't know how to stop feeling this way.

I hear my mother step over to the washers and dryers. She quickly removes the dry clothes from the dryer, puts the wet clothes in and works her magic and turns it on. I soon feel the warmth envelope me. It's very comforting even though it doesn't take my pain away.

The pain is sharp and mind numbing, yet I can still think. Which is very unfortunate. I want to feel normal but can't seem to. I don't know how.

My mother hums a comforting little tune as she begins to fold the first two piles of laundry. As promised she's not leaving my side. She's right here with me. From my mind's eye I see that every so often she looks at the floor where I am.

How she keeps her patients and loves me in my worst moments without giving up on me is beyond me. I'm not sure how she does it. I don't think I could handle myself if I were in her shoes. I'm downhearted and temperamental. I'm not any fun to be around. I don't want to do anything but lay down. Yet, she wants to be around me despite all that.

'My poor boy. It's sad to see him like this.' Esme thinks to herself as she places the folded clothes in a plastic laundry basket and places it on the floor. 'He's waited the longest to find love. It should not have ended this way.'

My eyes remain closed and my body is frozen while I silently lay here enjoying the warmth of the dryer. I wonder if my mother would keep the dryer running for me long after she's finished washing all the clothes. My body is craving warmth. Would anybody understand that?

My mother's thoughts shift from the present to the past. She begins to think of me throughout the decades. How she had always thought I was too innocent to be attracted to females when Carlisle created me. She always worried about that, but since it never bothered me, she tried not to concern herself with it. Then how she choked up with excitement when I became infatuated with the girl in Forks. She was so delighted it was embarrassing.

With each milestone I took in regards to my first relationship. From me being merely infatuated to head over heels in love with the girl with the silent mind, my mother's personality represented a cheerleader for a winning football team. It was mortifying. I remember the day I first kissed the girl. Alice had "seen" it in her vision and of course shared that bit of information with our entire family. My mother was bursting with excitement and basically threw a party when I came home. Our living room was actually decorated with streamers and balloons, courtesy of my spiky-haired sister. It was terrifying, really unbearable.

Thinking of that first kiss I let out a sad sigh.

Remembering the softness of the girl's lips on mine, I begin to test the phantom flavor of her on my tongue. Knowing that I will never feel that feeling of her kiss, or even taste her flavor again. I squeeze my eyes shut a little tighter. Unwilling, I let out a little wiper. The memories hurt like hell. Why can't I have the luxury of forgetting?

I can't forget anything. I know that. I can only hope that the world will stop spinning.

I smell the fabric of jeans and hear each movement the pants make as my mother folds them with precise movements. I keep my eyes closed tight and my arms around my legs, trying not to think about the shit that hurts the most. I begin to focus on the sounds around me.

The comforting sound of my mother humming a long forgotten children's lullaby. The soft hush of her folding clothes and placing them into the laundry basket. The clothes swishing in the washer and rest of the clothes tumbling in the dryer. I'm focusing so hard on all the noises I almost miss my mother's thoughts. "Almost" is the key word here.

'If only there was a way for them to get back together. I know that would make him happy. I wish that he would just give her a call instead of suffering.' Her private thoughts make their way to my mind.

I moan in agony and my mother quickly apologizes for letting her thoughts slip. She goes back to humming the comforting lullaby.

Part of me wishes I could call the girl. But that won't do any good. She probably has moved on by now, forgotten all about me. It's been over a month after all. Even if she hasn't fully forgotten me yet, she will. There's no such thing as eternal love for a human. Besides, the things I said, along with the words she screamed at me in anger the dreaded day I broke up with her, I doubt she would ever want to speak to me again.

I know that time will help heal the girl but it won't help me. Nothing will.

The pain I bear is the equivalent of a human holding the blade of a knife instead of at the handle. You keep getting cut, yet you keep holding on because you don't know what else to do. I hurt so bad I want to end the pain that hits me every second of every minute like a tsunami of bricks.

My mother continues to hum and fold the laundry while I just lay here on the smooth concrete floor. My eyes remain closed. I continue listening to the sounds around me as I bask in the warmth of the dryer.

My mind begins to go back to Forks. To the last day I saw the girl that once was mine.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thanks for reading. : )))

I'd love to know what you think of this chapter. Feel free to leave your thoughts or questions - big or small - in the review section.

What's your opinion on how Esme is handling Edward's anguish?

What do you think happened when he broke up with Bella?