Thanks to everyone who followed this story so far! I'm very excited to be posting the revised version of this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Chapter One
August 5, 1938
"Edward did you hear me?"
Esme's voice rings throughout the room.
"Are you happy to be going home today?"
Her question does nothing to comfort me. It has been six years since I've felt the hard, wooden floors beneath my feet, the sound of my mother at the piano, and the groans echoing through the walls of my previous home. Happiness was not generally something found there, only pain and loneliness. There is no happiness in that wretched house without HER.
At some point you realize that life goes wrong, that it dealt you the wrong cards. I didn't fully understand that concept until I realized it was I that was the mistake, that I was the wrong cards dealt to my parents.
"Yes," I answer monotone.
She simply peers at me with uncertainty in her eyes. My answer is not the one she wants but rather the one she knows is to be expected. She would have me wrench my heart out to her and say what I really feel. As if I could ever do that, even if I wanted to. The fragmented pieces of my mind are barely being held together and to be honest is a sure way to never escaping this prison. I learned early on the truth is dangerous. The last time I faced the truth, I went mad. Literally.
A mistake I will never make again.
All I left is to move forward and never look back. My own parents didn't even try to get involved in my life while I was here. Who could blame them? I was a complete nutcase and an embarrassment to them. Yet somehow I did blame them, the rational part of my mind realized their failures as successful parents. The fact I was always so alone, and their indifference proves my point. Neither of them wanted to waste their time handling a child, though I admit while my mother did have her moments, even she never came to see me.
At first I thought it was just due to the humiliation, or anger and that it would soon pass, but as the days turned to weeks and the weeks into months I realized no one was coming and no one cared. They abandoned me at this wretched madhouse and not once came to visit. While I hate myself for being everyone's problem, even I realize that this was not entirely my fault. But seeing as how I cannot voice my blame on my parents, I put the blame solely on ludicrous image of my deeply fragmented mind; Isabella.
She will always be the one at blame.
"Edward, I know this is" Esme suddenly speaks in a soft voice. "Well different for you. But you're going to be fine." She continues assuredly. "Anyhow, Emmett was just released two days ago, but he's waiting for you since he has nowhere to go." She finishes.
I give her a sad smile in return. Even she knows the difference between what we want to believe and what is reality. Going home to two people who wished I had never been born is a sure way of saying you'll be anything but fine and she knows it. But for now I indulge her in the lie she's deluding herself into believing, she's been nothing but kind to me my entire stay here, basically my mother is some ways. The last thing I want to do is to upset her, even if it is the truth. As I said before, the truth is dangerous.
Having Emmett, my only friend since I've been institutionalized here, being released with me today makes the situation a little more bearable.
Emmett McCarty is a man of intriguing secrets. He is quiet, kind and a much better man than myself. His story is sad, much more tragic than my own. He grew up only hours away from my hometown to a wealthy family who had no interest in him. Emmett lived a privileged life, had quite a bit of wealth to his name, prospects and continues to be extremely intelligent but there was this one flaw, something that could not be overlooked by his family, nor their society. Emmett McCarty is an epileptic. There lies the very flaw, the only one that could not be ignored and so they left him here in this institution at the age of seven. He is only a year older than I, but he did not let the bitter world ruin his mind, did not let it poison his life, he makes his own destiny and has this forgiveness, this quiet strength that I will never possess and sometimes I hate him for it.
A hand touches mine and immediately I'm shaken from my thoughts. Esme is staring at me with such sadness in her eyes and this pain spreads in my chest because I wish it is she that I am to go home to, and I partly believe she wishes the same. So in an effort to perk her up a bit, I smile a little bigger and go get my trunk and start packing what little items I own before finding the suit that she bought for me most recently.
Isabella was an idea I made out of loneliness as a child, and when I left that house I left her behind as well. In a way it is nice to be rid of her, she was always giving me false hope, always leading me to believe that I was someone of worth. The cold harsh truth is I am not, I tend to ruin everything I touch.
"Do you mind if I ask a question about her?" Esme asks.
She never had to speak the name to which she was referring, I already know to whom she is referring. The faculty learned quite early on that Isabella was a touchy subject for me and I never even wanted to hear her name.
Bitterness grew in my heart slowly eating out the love I once felt for her. My own personal feelings are more like a distant dream, faded away in the recesses of my mind. I can still remember her clear as day, she was so frighteningly beautiful, a beauty that seemed to draw things to her like a siren, but she was wildfire, destroying everything left in her wake. Her beauty made me feel warm, and her rage protection. She was like a mother to me, always so caring and gentle.
But that's all passed now.
She's nothing but dust blown in the wind, gone.
I nod my head slowly to Esme giving her permission.
Her face immediately becomes apprehensive; as if afraid she might offend or send me into relapse. Suddenly I am overwhelmed by love and concern for her; no one has ever shown me such affection and kindness like her.
"It's okay," I assure her gently.
She then takes a deep breath before looking directly in my eyes.
"I watched you suffer every night from the demons that poisoned your mind," she began softly. "And somehow you worked through it, overcame what we believed you never would. And now that you're going back to the same place where it all began, I" she falters on the last word, having trouble continuing.
Suddenly she leans forward and grabs both my hands, as her eyes search my own.
"I just can't help but worry that if you only saw her there and nowhere else, that returning could mean," she cuts off, too distraught to finish.
"I might see her again," I finish darkly for her.
I would be lying if the thought never crossed my mind. Isabella claimed she was dead, so there was that slight possibility that I could see her and not be mad, but the odds are extremely thin. At the end of the day I choose to believe that she was never real.
"That won't happen," I say assuredly looking into her eyes. "It won't happen because you taught me to be of strong mind." I say with a genuine smile.
Immediately she returns the gesture and I am happy to put her mind to ease some. This is not her burden to bare, not her insanity to deal with. I must handle my own problems now. The distraught eleven year old that I once was, is no more; instead a young man fills his shoes, and it's time I start acting like one. This woman has been like a gentle mother to me and all I want is her happiness and peace of mind, even if mine will never come.
Suddenly her hands reach up to her neck, shakily fiddling with the chain there. As she finally gets the chain loose and off her neck, she reveals the necklace is her rosary. Esme is a highly devoted Catholic and an avid believer in God. She shakily holds the necklace out to me and puts it in my hand, grasping mine tightly.
"Take it," she says looking at me with concern. "Take it and remember that God will keep you safe, even from your mind" she finishes with conviction.
While I normally would indulge her in anything she bestows on me, this I cannot accept. The notion of God is sickening as it is unappealing. I've no time for such frivolity as faith in God, nor will I indulge in such. Shaking my head in protest, I slowly give it back to her to her utter dismay. She knew handing me such an object would most likely wind back up to her again and this time is no exception.
I want nothing to do with God or his religion.
"Keep it," I say softly. "I have no place at the foot of God," I finish softly but firmly.
Her eyes tear up slightly at my refusal and I don't miss the pity that lurks there as well. Normally this would anger me, I do not need anyone's pity, but hers is out of sheer concern and sadness. I know that she wishes she could save me, and yet can do nothing.
"Everyone has a place at the throne room of our Lord, including you Edward," she presses.
Agitation, not at her, but towards her God runs hot through my veins. Apparently God disagrees with her, for I would not be here to begin with if He had.
"I've no need of God or His precious mercy Esme," I spit out venomously. She flinches at my tone. "When I had need, he drove me out" I finish coldly.
Her eyes tear up even more and water quickly spills out over her cheeks, hurt by my tone and accusation. Guilt envelopes me at the sight before me. God, will I ever stop damaging the people I love?
"God has not the patience for men like me Esme," I say softly. "You are not like me, bitter, angry and vengeful. You are kind and pure. Keep your rosary, you deserve it," I finish quietly.
Tears continue to stream down her face and I realize she is not crying out of hurt for herself, but rather for me. She so desperately wishes things were different. Don't we all? I prayed to God and he remained silent. As he is God he can do as he wishes, but I had to pay for the price of that choice and so this is mine. I put my hope and faith in others, including Him, and they all failed me miserably. It is just too hard to keep doing that to myself, constantly hoping and being left behind by everyone I love.
Suddenly she wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me into a motherly embrace. Warmness floods through me, I take every moment of affection given to me seeing as I won't be getting it later. Fear begins to course through me at the sudden notion of what's really happening, but I throw it back into the proverbial dark closet housed deep in the recesses of my mind.
Slowly I pull back and smile warmly at her.
"I'll be fine," I say assuredly. "You said so yourself remember?"
She nods in response but then takes my face in her hands before looking at me intently.
"No matter what happens, always know you'll always be welcome at my table." She says firmly and I know she means it.
Esme never says something she doesn't mean. All I can do is nod, my tongue deciding to not move in fear I might upset her again. After a moment of silence Carlisle, my psychiatrist walks into my room.
"Go ahead and get changed Edward, the train is about to leave" he says. "Emmett cannot stay here on charity any longer." He finishes coldly.
I glare back at him in response, biting my tongue. God forbid this institution help the needy out of charity. It's not Emmett's fault he has epilepsy and was thrown out like an animal with nowhere to go. Finally, I nod curtly before Esme engulfs me into another hug. As her arms leave me, coldness replaces the warmth. Suddenly I'm no longer afraid of seeing Isabella, but rather to never feel the embrace and acceptance of another. My own parents couldn't accept me, insane or not, how could another? Esme was something of chance, a part of the universe gone wrong and somehow it ended up in my favor. Who's to say it will happen again?
Instead of crying out to her like a child, I stand up straight as she walks away. Quickly changing out of my uniform and into my black suit, I decide to wet my hair down. After agreeing to my appearance, I finish packing and walk to my door. Slowly I turn around to the now empty room and somehow that's how I feel, empty, completely void of any feeling whatsoever.
With resolve, I turn my back to the room and walk briskly down the hall gripping my suitcase as I make my way to where Carlisle is. When I reach the end of the hall, a nurse unlocks the door and Carlisle stands on the other side of it with Emmett.
"Ready?" Carlisle asks with false pity leaking its way into his voice.
Emmett eyes me warily, knowing of my hatred for the man.
"Let's not pretend you're not ecstatic to finally be rid of me," I sneer.
His eyes go dark with cold expression. There it is, his true face.
"You were a most troubled child, I am just happy to have sorted your twisted mind," he says with a wicked grin.
"Hold him down Nurse!"
Cold hands press down on me.
Screaming.
Thrashing.
Pleading.
Fire courses through my body, my body twitching.
Pain.
Pain.
Pain.
Cold eyes and a feral grin close in.
Blood filling my mouth.
My body goes rigid. My fingers curl into my palm, a tightness spreads across my chest.
I want him dead.
"Edward, let it go" Emmett says grabbing my forearm, his gray eyes sharp.
But I cannot let it go, the hatred is too hot, too much to ignore.
I turn, taking a threatening step forward. "You egotistically, son of a-
"Careful Son, don't want to walk right back through those doors do you now?" He cuts in harshly, absolutely way too satisfied with his threat that he knows he holds over my head.
Emmett roughly pulls me back.
"Forgive him Sir, he's just anxious" Emmett states calmly. "Though who could blame him? After all his family abandoned him here and then disappeared for six years." He finishes tightly.
He's saving me, again and I'm grateful that one of us can keep our head around our self-serving psychiatrist. And despite how angry I am, I will never come back here. I will die before being readmitted. In response I shake off his hand but and continue walking forward regaining control. Carlisle chuckles at my response but I keep moving forward.
"Leave it, he's a petty man who must make other's feel weak and beneath him to feel anything of worth," Emmett says quietly but coldly and I envy that, his sense of control over his emotions, how he can balance them.
As we leave the building, the anxiety coursing through me mounts.
Isabella breathes against my skin, kissing the back of my neck, her voice softly singing a song and soon I find I am too tired to keep my eyes open any longer.
"I swear to you, I will never leave you again; that nothing could ever separate us," her voice whispers darkly in the night.
If only it were true.
My own longing disgusts me.
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This story will be updated every Sunday and Wednesday.
