Chapter 7: Famished
"You really should go hunt." Esme says, patting my back as birds chirp in the descent. 'I wish he had the energy to go with Carlisle.'
She and I sit on a log out in the fresh air, deep in the forest with Emmett leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. He's looking like some strange bodyguard, making sure I don't make a run for it while Cralisle hunts.
I shake my head. "I don't feel like it." I mumble.
Emse sighs. A sad sound.
"Don't worry, Mom." Emmett chims in. "Carlisle will bring his dinner."
"Yes. That's right." She says, her voice a mix of relief and disappointment. Her thoughts are sad. She wishes I had the will to hunt on my own.
The breeze blows around us as Esme continues to talk - trying to encourage me to not give up - to satisfy my thirst. I listen and nod my head while Emmett ads in words of inspiration here and there. I nod my head, though I don't feel like drinking. The thought of blood is not appealing. Nothing is.
They can bring me out to the forest - Carlisle actually carried me the whole way here like a father would carry a sleeping toddler - but they can't make me hunt. I'm not trying to be stubborn. I truly have no desire to hunt. I don't believe my parents understand that, neither does Emmett. For if they did they wouldn't have brought me out here.
I place my head on my mother's shoulder. Instantly her arms are wrapped around me. The comforting way she holds me is more than a hug to me. It feels like she's the glue that's holding me together, so I don't break into a million pieces.
It doesn't make sense. How can someone that's indestructible like me, feel so broken?
I always had known that she, the only girl in the world, that I left back and Forks. Would always have my heart. That she was the only one for me, the one who had awakened the human side of me - making me feel excited in ways that I had never known before and making my body respond in very unfamiliar ways. Making me feel more like a man instead of a monster. But I had never thought saying goodbye to her would make me feel so lost and broken.
All this is not lost on my mother. She tightens her embrace around me.
From the tree where he stands my brother looks at us. He sighs. He would give anything to have me back, to hear the sound of my laughter. To be locked in a wrestling match or video game tournament with me. Instead of looking at the sad shell of the boy I have become and wondering if I'll ever recover from this walking acoma.
"It's obvious you can't live without Bella." Emmett begins solwing. I flinch at the name, he ignores it and Esme runs my back. "Why torture yourself like this, kid? Just give her a call already."
I shake my head 'no'.
Emmett's quiet now. His thoughts are on the girl now. He's wondering if she's as broken as me, since he is aware that vampires can't live without their mates.
'But she's not human and she and I hadn't had sex!' I shout in my head. Words that are ture but I would never say them out loud, especially in front of my mother. Instead I say nothing.
"Calling Bella might be good." Esme says in a gentle tone, patting my shoulder.
"No." I say in a weak voice.
Emmett's expression crumbles. Just as Rosalie had been so sure that I needed to call Bella to feel whole again, Emmett believes that too. Of course he does. Their thoughts are on the same page, they are a perfectly matched pair.
Emmett comes over, standing next to me now. His thoughts are blocked by Star Wars knowledge so I'm unable to hear what's going on in his mind. Usually, that's not a good sign. This could be dangerous. Though, I don't really care. Nothing really matters.
"I know you're going through a rough spot, kid." Emmett says, putting a hand on my shoulder. "But hearing her voice may make you feel better. I know if I were in your shoes I'd want to hear Rose's voice."
I close my eyes, exhaling.
I couldn't keep it inside any longer. I open my mouth and the whole insane breakup story comes crashing out. My mother had already heard this when I had accidentally spilled everything I had been keeping in, though she doesn't loosen her hold on me. Emmett however, is momentarily shocked into silence. Even his thoughts are blank, as well as the expression on his face.
"I'm so sorry that happened." Esme sighs. 'Of course, he could have broken up with Bella in a more gentlemanly manner. Poor Bella.' She mended inside her head.
"She really hit you with a freaking hammer?" Emmett wonders in amusement once he is able to speak. 'She really had some balls to stand up to a vampire.' He silently muses. "You really said all that horrible douchebag stuff to her?"
I don't respond. Is there even a point? I mean, why would I make something like that up?
"Ememtt, watch what you say." Esme warns. She's not pleased with him using the word 'douchebag' and doesn't want him to say anything worse or to add cuss words to the mix. Which he'd have no shame in doing.
"I'm just being real." Emmett shrugs. 'It was a bonehead move. You know that right?' He snorts, finding the whole hammer situation hilarious.
I roll my eyes. Of course that's all he took away from everything I said.
In one fluid move he comes and sits next to me. Now I'm sandwiched between my mother and brother. The close proximity to them is a nice feeling, even though I see from Emmett's mind that if I don't answer he'll keep asking.
"Yes. Two both questions." I mumble.
Even though Emmett has no plans on letting me live this down. It's better to admit what happened - why I hurt so bad and choose not to call her. Because I know she won't want to talk to me. I gave her no reason to ever desire to talk to me again. Hopefully, with putting all of this out in the open I won't have to entertain this idea for long. Maybe then everyone will see that I can't call her. There's no point to that.
"Damn, brother mine!" Emmett laughs more loudly than necessary. "You sure sure do have a way with words." He snorts.
I groan in irritation. Of course he would find humor in my pain.
My brother continues to laugh like it's the funniest thing on the planet. What's worse is that he's replaying how he imagines the scene went in his mind. How he's imagining it is far from the truth. I let out a bitter groan.
"Emmett." Esme scolds, lightly tapping his shoulder to get his attention. "That's enough."
It's clear by her tone that she does not find his behavior ammussing.
"Sorry." Emmett apologizes, trying to end his laughter.
Quickly, before Emmett can go back to focusing on what he thinks is hilarious and say something else that doesn't sit well with me. Esme changes the subject and they begin to talk about something entirely different. But I'm not listening to what they have to say. I focus all my attention on a single blade of grass that's taller than the rest in the cluster that grows two feet away from us. While my mother holds me as she and Emmett talk, I watch it blow in the breeze.
Minutes pass while they carry on talking and I stare at the blade of grass, for no good reason.
The small blade of grass that I find momentarily interesting in a mind-numbing way, continues to blow in the breeze. I have been giving all my attention to it, so much that I haven't been paying attention to the thoughts or spoken words of my family. Which is why I am rather confused when Emmett thrusts his ringing phone in my face.
I look at the phone. What's this? I have know idea what is going on.
The phone rings again.
Raising an eyebrow I look at Emmett. He has a goofy grin on his face.
"Take it." He insists. "Say hello when they answer."
"What?" I am so puzzled. "Who?"
Emmett's thought's give nothing away so I have no idea what he is trying to do. I turn to my mother who shrugs her shoulders. She's not aware of what he's up to either.
Suddenly the phone stops ringing and I stare at it. I'm wondering who he called.
"Hello." A smooth gruff voice on the other end of the phone says. I can tell it's the voicemail.
My body freezes. I know that voice. Why did Emmett have to call that number? What was he thinking?
"You have reached the Swan residence-" The recording goes on.
Time stands still as the realization of the voice from the recording is...Charlie's voice! It sinks in my head. It's only the recording but still, I don't want to leave a message. I can't believe Emmett actually called that number. Unbelievable!
Without a coherent thought in my mind I see red and a grenade goes off in my head. Before the recording can near the end, on its own accord, my hand slaps the phone out of Emmett's hand. Hitting his hand in the process with unnecessary force that would have broken the bones in the human hand. His phone goes flying through the air.
Crack! Went the unmistakable sharp sound of plastic crashing to the ground. Emmett's phone shatters into a million bits on the forest floor.
'Well, that went better than I thought it would.' Emmett musses, looking at his shattered phone. He gets up and immediately begins picking up the pieces.
"Edward," Esme scoldes. "It's understandable that you didn't want to leave a message. But that doesn't give you a right to break your brother's property, apologize right this minute." Her voice is gentle yet firm.
I hear the fear and concern in my mother's mind, even though she's not composing any of her thoughts into words for me. She is noticing a change in my behavior. First I was depressed beyond reason. Now I'm having outbursts of anger. She's wondering how to help me but she's really not sure.
"I'm sorry about your phone, Emmett." I say honestly. I really didn't intend to destroy it. "Are you mad at me?"
Holding up what used to be the screen to his phone he looks over at me. "Naw, man. Been meaning to get a new phone anyways." He shrugs it off and goes back to picking up the pieces.
Truly Emmett isn't mad at all. I am grateful that he never holds a grudge. He's so quick to get over everything. That's a quality of his that I have always envied, I am the polar opposite. I have a habit of dwelling on everything longer than needed.
While Emmett picks up the last remains of his dead phone. He goes into detail about the next phone he plans on getting. All the features it has that he's really excited for. I nod my head but am not sharing his enthusiasm, I don't have enthusiasm for anything. I am basically a half-living lump on a log.
"You kids and your phones." Esme says in a disapproving motherly tone. 'What happened to the good old days when kids weren't so caught up in technology?' She shakes her head. "I don't know what happened. How is it that all of you guys are always on your phone?"
"Gotta keep up with the times." Emmett grins, looking at our mother. "We're now part of the generation that is all about technology. Phones are our future."
Esme says something but I'm not listening. Instead I focus on the noises I hear out in the distance. Some of the commotion is typical forest noises - the flapping of wings on a bird, trickling water in the river and the commotion of hooves hitting the ground near the river. Just to name a few things I hear. But there's another sound that catches my attention. The sound of a growl that belongs to a fierce predator that's followed by a coyote yelping, a neck snapping, then dead silence. The fierce predator won the battle. I wouldn't expect nothing less.
While my mother and brother carry on their conversation she does not loosen her comforting embrace around me. It feels nice to be held in his childlike way. With my head on her shoulder I close my eyes. I begin to feel peaceful.
There's no sound in the forest that can make lose this peaceful filling. This is a different kind of tranquility than my talented brother's gift could ever offer me.
I continue to listen to the sounds of the forest as I hear the patter of footsteps fastly approaching us. Though my eyes are closed I know the footsteps belong to my father. I breathe in the scent and I can tell he is carrying a carcass of a whitetail deer and another one of a coyote. I smell their scents. As with both of the dead animals their necks are snapped but the blood is not drained. It may be his kill but they are meant to be my nourishment.
Automatically my mind tunes into Carlisle's. From my mind's eye I see what my father sees as he stands a foot away from us. She takes in the sight of my mother cradling me like a little boy and me gladly accepting her affection. All while she and Emmett are in deep discussion about his choice of college classes. And Emmett who is now doing this strange catwalk that he learned from his Art of Walking class.
Really? That's what he's learning in that class? To walk in different ways that make him look like an odd raccoon on two legs. What an odd class that must be. I can read his mind and I still have no idea why he picked that class.
Even my parents can't explain why he chose that Art of Walking class. Though, both of them are just happy that he is enjoying college. Their thoughts are on the same page - that they hope he completes his college course this time, which he has a habit of not doing.
With a soft thump the carcasses are placed on the ground where my father stands. With his kills on the grass, his footsteps draw near. Carlisle's places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. I open my eyes to see his concerned face.
"Now, Son," Carlisle begins in a soothing tone. "I understand you didn't feel like hunting. However, you must quench your thirst." He gestures with his free hand to the animals on the ground. 'You'll feel a little better once you feed.'
"Debatable." I reply, making no attempt to move.
He frowns, my mother's sighs, a very sad sound and Emmett just looks on at me in silence.
"Edward, please drink." Esme urges. 'Please.'
I don't respond.
Looking at the prey set before me on the ground. My mind drifts to a time long ago. Back to my very first hours of being a newborn. When my father took me out into the woods for my first hunt, I was very apprehensive of taking down a large deer, he saw the doubt in my crimson eyes and came up with the idea to catch my kills for me. That whole first day of being a newborn, that is exactly what he did. He hunted for me until I gained enough confidence and joined him on my first actual hunt a few days later. How he was so proud of me when I caught and drained my first kill.
I look up into my father's golden eyes now. The expression on his face is very different than in my memory. He is worried and sad. Just as my mother is. As my whole family is.
"My sweet boy. You really need nourishment." Esme pats my back. 'Being on a starvation diet won't do you any good.'
I see from her mind that she is worried that I just might snap. That I'll be more likely to endanger and end a life of an innocent human, if I don't satisfy my thirst with animal blood.
I ignore my mother's overdramatic thoughts. I have no plans on doing such things. I'm not thirsty.
Again, my parents urge and encourage me to drink the blood of the animals. I shake my head 'no'. I have no desire to feed. No will to continue on.
Minutes passed yet, we're still deadlocked - my parents and I. They want me to drain the animals that are placed before me. I outright refuse. With each passing second my voice becomes more stubborn.
"Carlisle," Emmett says and Carlisle turns his attention on him. "With being a doctor. Have you ever had to force feed a human?"
"Yes. On occasion." Carlisle answers, not really sure where this is going.
'Force feed a human?' Esme is quite baffled by Emmett's question.
Neither of my parents have fully made the connection to Emmett's question. Since their minds are focusing on me and the fact that I refuse to feed, they aren't fully focused on his question and both of them are wondering where he's going with it. Having access to my brother's mind I know exactly what he is going to say next.
Emmett goes on to ask what types of tools are used to get nourishment into a starving person. Carlisle responses that IVs are used and long along they used to syringes. It doesn't take long for my parents to see where Emmett is going with this. Soon all three of them are on the same page - if I don't drink on my own I need to be "helped".
With the animal carcasses neatly laid down on the ground the breeze blows their less than mouth-watering scent right to me. I sit as still as a statue while my parents and brother begin to form a plan of how to get some animal blood in me.
They talk as though I'm not even right here. I should be annoyed but I'm not really. I'm more concerned that they will actually follow through with this crazy plan and force feed me like I'm some vegetable that can't eat on my own. Carlisle seems quite keen on the IV idea. There's just one thing he is forgetting. I'm a vampire.
"You can't put an IV in my skin." I remind my father. My words are stubborn and make me sound much younger than seventeen. "Our skin can't be penetrated by a needle."
Carlisle gives me a thoughtful look. But Emmett is the one to speak.
"We could inject a needle in his eye right, Carlisle?" Emmett speaks seriously. "Get fluids into his system that way?"
"His eye?" Esme is shocked. She didn't consider that a possibility.
I stare at my brother with my mouth wide open. I don't know which is more concerning - the fact that he has even thought of this? Or that he actually wants to try this possibility out on me?
"Actually," Carlisle says, looking right into my dark eyes. "I have a steel needle in my office that can penetrate our skin. If you don't eat on your own," He points to the animal carcasses. "We'll go home and I'll insert an IV in your arm. I have all the necessary equipment. You really need nourishment." He raises his eyebrows at me in a questioning way. 'Son, the choice is yours.'
I stare at him, deadpan.
From my mind's eye I see just how serious my father is. Even though our kind cannot starve to death he doesn't want me to be weak and uncomfortable. If I'm not going to feed on my own he is not above using his knowledge as a doctor to get nourishment into the body of his unwilling son that refuses to feed. He wants me to feel better and believes that once I'm full that'll be the first step on that path.
"What will it be? Eat or I'll insert an IV into your arm?" Carlisle wants an answer. He begins to intently think of the large syringe with the over exaggeration of the huge steel needle.
I glup.
Seeing just how far he would go to keep me well and what exactly he'll use changes something in me. Well, that and the fact that I really don't want a giant needle in my arm. I'm not scared of needles, I don't just don't want one in my body.
I slowly remove myself from my place on the log as Emmett suggests his idea again, of putting a needle in my eye to insert the IV. Yeah. That won't be happening. I'm not having an IV inserted in my arm and definitely not in my eye.
I stand up, take a deep breath, letting the aroma of the animal blood fill my nostrils. One of their scenes is more appetizing than the other, of course.
Taking a few steps over to my meal. I block out the thoughts and low mummers of my parents and brother as I kneel down on my knees.
Quickly I grabbed the coyote first, her scent is more mouth-watering than the deer. I sink my teeth in her fur and flesh. The warm blood rushes in my mouth, coating my tongue as it runs down my throat.
I let out a moan of relief as I drink relentlessly. It tastes so delicious. Having no shame, I drink greedily, not caring that I'm being a little messy. Apparently I am a lot more thirsty than I realized.
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Thank you for reading.
Finally Edward drank! Yay! All it took was a little persuasion from his father.
If you have any thoughts or questions - I'd be happy to read and respond to them in the reviews. :)))