A/N: Happy weekend and thank God for an on-time update (for once!) Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 31: Breaking Point
"Aren't you going to eat anything?"
Edythe had to fight not to cringe as she turned toward her father, who was watching her as she made toward the front door. She did her best to smile, working harder than was necessary to make it look effortless.
"No. I had a late dinner," she explained. Earnest's eyebrows came together and he appeared in front of her. Used to the supernatural movement, Edythe didn't so much as blink as he reached for her face, his hand fitting under her chin and cheek.
"Bring some with you, for later if you're hungry," he encouraged softly, his golden eyes just hinting at the concern. But, as she did often, Edythe smiled wider, working to play the part to make his worry ease.
"I'll be okay; besides, Dr. Bradshaw usually brings in bagels for everyone. I'm running late, anyway," she replied then stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek in goodbye. He reciprocated, touching his cool lips to her temple and watched her go, his eyes following the Volvo until it had disappeared from sight, and the listening until the car's engine was indiscernible from traffic. As he turned toward the kitchen, determined to pack away the pancakes and eggs for later and drop it off, his eyes met Carine, who was descending the stairs, donned in scrubs just as her daughter who had left.
"She's not eating," he told his wife, her deep tenor voice colored with unease.
Carine frowned, coming to the bottom of the stairs and grasping his hand in hers.
"She skipped breakfast again?" she inquired, to which Earnest nodded.
"She said it was because she had dinner late," he commented, but the matriarch's frown deepened.
"Beau told me this morning before he left that she barely touched her food," Carine said. The two parents looked between each other, and then Carine sighed.
"I will go by during my lunch break if I can to check on her," she promised. Earnest nodded, only slightly appeased, his mind still far away as he fretted over Edythe. Carine gave him a kiss goodbye before heading toward the garage. He watched his wife leave much like his daughter had, but his unease did not dissipate.
Carine had been unable to share lunch with Edythe, as an emergency had come in from a nearby hunting accident and she had been pulled in to take over one of the other residents. She was profusely apologetic, but Edythe assured her it was fine. This was not the first time Carine had been bound to stay at the hospital, and Edythe knew she should be wanting her mother to do her job, knowing she was the best physician Ithaca General had.
But, at the same time, Edythe wished for her presence. She had been working nearly nonstop suppressing her emotions from showing, both from her empathic sister and from Carine and Beau, who could read her emotions in her face almost as clearly as Jessamine could with her gift. Despite that, Carine being near gave her a sense of security, especially at the hospital where it had become less and less an escape and more of a confinement.
Edythe loved the work, but it was draining; between long hours of standing and running, constantly checking up on patients, and communicating with coworkers and clients, Edythe's body and mind were always some degree of exhausted. This morning alone, she had spent the better part of forty-five minutes going over discharge instructions for the owner of a very young puppy, repeating medication instructions and answering questions.
Bailey, the four pound, seven-week-old Yorkie had been quiet and very un-puppy like as Edythe had sat besides his owner, Mr. Davenporth, walking through the diagnostics done and the medications given. The man was middle-aged, and very gruff, and seemed to be paying more attention to the bill in his hand than Edythe's words. But he assured her he understood and would take the call in the next day to check in on the puppy.
That had been early this morning, not long after she had come into work, when she started feeling the affects of not eating breakfast. As she went through the ministrations of appointments, surgeries, and running lab work, she worked to ignore the hunger pangs that her body reminded her of frequently. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but not as uncomfortable as the after effects of satiating her hunger.
When Amanda had all but forced her up the stairs to the break room, she chose to settle in front of the fish tank, playing idly with a bottle of water and holding a burrito in her free hand. She was reminded of her vampire days when she would have to learn to hide food from unsuspecting humans to look as if she was eating. Thankfully, there was no one upstairs to notice her lack of appetite. And when she returned to the treatment area, she made sure to act rejuvenated so Amanda would think none the wiser.
Though she could hide it reasonably during work, at home was a different story. Her vampire family—not to mention her very observant mate—were able to catch the small things that her human colleagues were unaware of. Even this morning, she had worked to quell the uneasiness as Earnest had observed her, hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions of her. She didn't want to hurt Earnest's feelings, but she couldn't find it in her to eat; and it would make her father feel that much worse if she were to choke it down and then vomit it back up within half an hour.
Edythe sighed slightly, leaning back into the swivel chair she sat in, ignoring her complaining stomach as her eyes scanned the client communication notes she had just made for the Schnauzer she had discharged. It had been a long day, and a tiring one. She was approaching eleven hours into her shift—with another two at least to go—and she was relieved it would be late enough that she could go home and immediately go to bed—where she could temporarily be free of all feelings, physiologically and otherwise—without getting much questioning looks from her family.
A shrill buzz from the wire at her right ear knocked her out of her small reverie.
"Edythe?" She reached for the receiver, pressing the button to respond.
"Yeah, what's up, Marie?" she inquired.
"Mr. Davenporth is on line one; he wants to speak to you," Marie said and there was a slight edge to her voice. Edythe was about ask, but there was no need.
"He sounded angry, just so you're prepared," Marie added. Edythe thanked her before releasing the button. She glanced at the blinking red button on the phone console and sighed deeply, taking a deep, steadying breath before removing her ear piece and lifting the receiver.
"Good evening, Mr. Davenporth, how can I—" he usually introduction was cut off abruptly.
"Don't give me that prissy tone!" The man's voice was loud and Edythe had to fight not to cringe as the sound reverberated in her ear.
"What seems to be the problem?" she asked diplomatically, her eyes staring down at a one of the cracks in the wall besides her, a product of an over-excited Rottweiler from a few weeks ago.
"The problem?" the client said dubiously, still half-yelling, "The problem is that you killed my dog!"
There was split moment of silence, as Edythe's body seemed to tense with unadulterated shock.
"I'm sorry?" she asked, unable to comprehend what he was saying.
"My dog is dead, and it's because of you!" he shrieked; the phone line seemed to shrill with the sound, but Edythe didn't seem to notice. Dread and shame flooded through her without being able to stop them, but Mr. Davenporth was still speaking.
"I brought him home and he wasn't getting better; he's gotten worse since I brought him there and you and that supposed doctor touched him and gave him all that medication!"
"Mr. Davenporth," she tried to say, but her voice broke, as she was both emotionally and medically unprepared to give any rationale to the man who was screaming at her.
"You overdosed my puppy! And now he's dead! And it's your fault!" he ranted. He said something else but Edythe didn't hear it; only when she heard the dial tone a moment later did she realize he had hung up.
Edythe didn't know what to do for a moment, her body still locked in a tense stupor, before she moved quickly toward the hall bathroom, turning around and locking the deadbolt as the door shut behind her. She felt the emotions crash down on her immediately as the jamb clicked and she turned, planting her hands on the sink, trying to hold herself up as her body was overcome. Panic and grief and confusion and remorse seemed to swallow her whole and her body began to tremble so violently that she forced herself to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as she fought to breathe, though she knew she should have no trouble.
As her body responded, Edythe's mind began to backtrack, working through every moment of that appointment, from the moment she had taken the little puppy from his owner, through holding him while Amanda had taken blood, to filling the prescriptions—checking the labels on the bottles—and gently handing the dog back nearly ninety minutes later. The moment she hit the end she would reverse back, like an old VCR tape being rewound. She did it again and again, trying to find where the mistake, where the lapse in her judgement had cost that puppy its life. When she failed to find it, it seemed to only push her harder and she felt an aggravation—not for the first time—that her short but fruitful years of human medical school held no water when it came to veterinary care. But she didn't stop, the mental tape winding and rewinding until it seemed it would rip.
A sudden commotion, muffled by the closed door, broke Edythe out of her trance. She could hear it, the disruption, the raised voices, and confusion came to the forefront of her mind. After a moment of deliberation, she worked to stand, finding the shaking had mostly subsided, and her face was clear, for thankfully she hadn't been crying. After taking a couple of deep breaths, she unlocked the door, her head turning toward the noises, coming from the front lobby.
The brightly lit lobby was mostly empty when Edythe stepped in from behind the reception desk, save for a half dozen clients waiting for prescriptions and for their pets to be discharged. Edythe recognized Mrs. Frey in the back of her mind, but the focus of her attention quickly moved from the distasteful look on her face to the cause of the commotion. Mr. Davenporth stood in the center of the large open space, his booming voice echoing throughout the hospital, his face red with anger. The two receptionists on duty, Donna and Margaret, were trying to calm him down, insisting he speak in a cordial tone in order for his demands to be handled, but one glance brought his attention to Edythe standing precariously besides the desk, just on the fringe of the hallway that led to the back.
"You!" he bellowed, pointing a stubby finger at her; Edythe couldn't help flinching slightly, both from the tone of his voice, as well as the accusatory gesture.
"You killed my dog!" the owner yelled, and Edythe felt all eyes in the room move to her. She worked to not cower under the scrutiny, trying to embody the perfect face of impassiveness she had been able to easily adopt when she had been a vampire. But, besides her changed state, the attention of everyone present—something she had been trying to avoid for weeks—seemed to fracture her resolve. But her eyes refocused on Mr. Davenporth as he continued, demanding to see the hospital owner, demanding to be compensated. His face was still turned toward Edythe and he rounded on her again.
"You overdosed my dog! It's your fault he's dead!" he screamed.
Before Edythe could even open her mouth, though she had no idea what she would say, a body stepped in front of her, so close she felt the brush of the white coat against her arm.
"Mr. Davenporth," Amanda said curtly. "I understand you are upset, but I will not allow you to speak to my staff in such a way. I ask you to adopt a more courteous tone, or I will have you removed from the premises." Her words were spoken calmly, but with a deadly edge to them. Though she was not yelling as the client was, her tone was colored with not simply disapproval, but undeniable ire and castigation.
The client's eyes bulged, as if ready to burst out of his head, and his rage, like on an axis, swiveled toward the veterinarian. But Edythe did not hear the exact words, as she had retreated, moving away from the eyes that looked on her with confusion, pity, and curiosity. She did not stop until she was upstairs in the far corner of the locker room, as far away from the front lobby as she could be. She sat on one of the benches, not speaking. She vaguely noticed her body beginning to tremble once more and she fought to control it, aware that someone was going to eventually find her here, and she could not look like she was falling apart.
Edythe forced her body to lock down, shutting down all emotion, banishing it away in the deepest corner of her mind. Her body seemed to buckle, and the shivers stilled. She focused on nothing else for several minutes, until she could hear someone ascending the stairs. Quickly, she ran her fingers beneath her eyes, wiping away the stray tear that escaped and turned as Amelia stepped into the room. Amelia was the most senior technician at the hospital, having worked there for nearly three decades. Now, her deep blue eyes were troubled as she made toward where Edythe sat. Edythe stood before she could get to her.
"Are you alright, hon?" she asked. Before Edythe could answer, she noticed Lex and Danielle behind her, their searching eyes finding hers. She worked to smile the best she could at them.
"Yeah, I'm alright," she assured them, "Just kind of surprised me."
Amelia nodded but didn't say anything, her face still concerned.
"I'll say," Lex commented, "That guy is insane. What happened?"
Edythe didn't answer before saying, with a shrug, "I don't know."
Lex and Danielle said another few colorful choice words about Mr. Davenporth before Amelia hushed them They made to protest, saying he deserved all the insults and more, but Edythe agreed.
"Let's just get everyone else ready to go home." she recommended, moving past them quickly toward the stairs. They didn't say anything but followed. Edythe could feel their eyes on her for a moment as she stepped up to one of the cages, lifting the latch and stepping closer, allowing the orange tabby cat to press his head into her hand as she made to disconnect his IV line.
Amanda was occupied for the better part of two hours, moving back and forth between an isolated exam room and her office as well as the front desk. Edythe didn't ask specifically what she was doing with Mr. Davenporth, nor did the doctor volunteer anything. Instead, Edythe focused on the task before her, discharging the rest of the animals that had stayed the day, providing instructions and recommendations as needed. Those that had all been present during the scene all asked if she was okay and what had happened. She merely smiled slightly and said she was fine, and she wasn't sure what was going on. That seemed to appease them enough that she was not forced to elaborate and come up with another answer.
Finally, after wrapping the last of the fluid lines and setting the laboratory machines to maintenance, Amanda came to the back, her eyes finding Edythe and moving directly toward her. Edythe tried not to make a face as the doctor approached.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"Yes," the teenager responded immediately.
"You don't look alright," Amanda stated; Edythe grimaced, trying to twist the remorse into aggravation from the question.
"Well, I am," she said, her tone curt. Amanda lifted an eyebrow and immediately Edythe felt cowed.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I'm just tired. It's been a long day."
"That it has." Amanda nodded with a slight sigh. As Edythe made to move past her, Amanda touched her arm; Edythe looked back expectantly.
"Text me when you get home?" she requested, "Just so I know you got home safe."
Edythe smiled slightly and nodded and bid her goodbye. She went through the motions of stripping her work top down to the white long-sleeved undershirt she wore, tossing her scrub top in her bag along with her stethoscope, scissors, and pens. She grabbed her water bottle from the table, flicking the lights off to the lounge as she left. The clock machine beeped as she swiped out, the automatic door clicking open as she made toward her car. The early March air was cold against her body, but it brought clarity and Edythe worked to shake free of her thoughts as she limber into the Volvo.
The entire drive home she worked to keep herself in control, focusing on segregating her emotions in preparation for the onslaught of her family, both the constant surveillance by Jessamine and the innocent, probing questions from her parents and Beau. It was half past ten when she pulled into the garage, nearly four hours past her scheduled shift. Thankfully, she had remembered to text them, letting them know she would be home late due to the an unexpected toxicity case.
So it was not worry for the time they felt as she entered, but the same underlying distress they all felt as they listened to the youngest Cullen drop her bag on the floor in the mudroom, tossing her soiled shirt into the laundry shoot, and placing her car keys on the hook besides the garage door. When she entered the family room, everyone was there, and they all looked up. They all gave her their own form of greeting and Edythe made her way to kiss Beau lightly on the lips; as she did, Carine reached out to grasp her hand.
"How was work?" she asked, her low probing tone inclining Edythe to feel another bout of remorse for misleading her; she quickly quashed it though, telling herself firmly she was doing it for her mother's peace of mind. She smiled, finding it was relatively easy to make the expression look worn.
"Long. I'm going to head to bed," she replied, squeezing her hands—one held by Carine and the other by Beau—before dropping them, moving to head toward the stairs.
"You need to have dinner," Carine reminded her gently. "Earnest or I can make something light for you." Edythe shook her head though.
"Too exhausted; I just want to shower and sleep," she said.
"When did you have lunch?" Carine asked.
"I had a couple of burritos around two. I'll be fine," she assured them. The concern on her parents' face invoked her to add, "I'll probably get hungry in the night. I'll wake up and get something then."
Though unconvinced, they allowed Edythe to move to climb the stairs. Besides her overactive, crippling emotions, she was, in fact, very tired, and she allowed it to come to the front, so it would be all her older sister could feel from her. She made her way to her and Beau's room, stripping down immediately and taking a quick shower. Long showers made it harder for her to keep a lid on her emotions, so she went as quickly as possible in her fatigued state, throwing on a set of pajamas and crawling under the covers, her head dropping to the pillows.
Edythe quickly sent a text to Amanda, letting her know she had gotten home safe, before flipping the lights off and rolling onto her stomach. Her arm came under the pillow to support her head and she closed her eyes, willing for unconsciousness to come.
Edythe's dreams plagued her throughout the night; though hardly to the extremity of the nightmares she'd suffered in the early days of her humanity, the Cullens listened to her toss and turn practically all night, eventually waking herself up past three in the morning. Though they partially wished she would come down to eat as she had hinted the night before, they were slightly relieved she had fallen back to sleep within minutes, and the rest of the night was uneventful.
Edythe awoke as Beau was getting ready; he leaned over as he finished pulling on his shoes, brushing his lips against hers. She reciprocated, still half-asleep, groggy and more exhausted than she had felt in a while.
"Have a good morning," she murmured in goodbye, smiling as he returned the well wishes before leaving her. She gave it ten minutes, ensuring he had left, before pulling herself out of bed and heading toward the bathroom. As she brushed her teeth and washed her face, she looked over herself in the bathroom mirror. Her eyes were not wet, but seemed dazed as she went about the motions of getting ready. Studiously ignoring the deep circles under her eyes, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, adjusting the light gray jacket she wore, paired with a pair of thin leggings. She pulled absently at the cuff that linked over her thumb as she tried to gather herself.
Despite having a biology lecture in less than an hour, Edythe couldn't see herself going to class; such a feat seemed far out of reach, especially today. She decided to stop by the hospital; perhaps Amanda would let her work in the back, making up surgical packs or filling fluids, anything to keep her mind busy. If not, well, she could at least make do with her own personal studying in the hospital study room, which was filled with veterinary books and a couple of computers for staff and doctors to use at their convenience. It was usually quiet and she could hole herself up in there, pretty much guaranteed to be undisturbed.
Her decision made, Edythe moved toward the main floor. Her siblings were absent, Eleanor and Royal being in class with Beau on campus, while she had heard Archie and Jessamine in their room on the second floor as she had passed. Carine had left for an early shift at the hospital before she had awoken, so only Earnest was present for her to face as she stepped off the stairs.
"Where are you going?" he asked. Edythe paused.
"Work. Amanda asked me to come in," she said evenly. Earnest frowned.
"You were just there all day yesterday," he countered, worried to have her working such long hours. "And don't you have class?"
"I know, but we're just reviewing for the midterm. I don't think I need to sit through a two hour review on things I've already learned about seven times previously," she said with a little bit of a laugh. The sound was just slightly off, but Edythe hoped Earnest would write it off as her still being groggy from sleep. Earnest's eyebrows came together, but nodded, seeming to accept the answer.
"Well, have a wonderful day, sweetheart," he murmured softly, pulling her in for a hug at the same time handing her a plastic container. Her head cocked before realizing it was almost definitely a take-away breakfast; Earnest seemed adamant to get her to have breakfast, and the idea had probably come to him yesterday. She thanked him before retreating, tossing her bag in the passenger seat of the Volvo and backing out of the garage.
As Edythe pulled onto the main road, she felt she was far enough away from Jessamine—who was probably too preoccupied anyway—to allow her carefully constructed wall to crack. The small fissure seemed to press heavily on her sternum and Edythe squeezed the steering wheel tighter. Though she only meant for a small part to be released, to give herself some small relief, the little crack seemed to destroy the integrity of the entire wall, and it all came crashing down.
Edythe gasped, temporarily blind, and was thankful she was sitting at a stop sign. One arm came to wrap around her, trying to hold herself together as all the feelings and emotions—not just from last night but the past few weeks—seemed to press down on her, her lungs, her heart, her nerves, to the point she felt she was being suffocated.
Short, pained gasps for breath choked through Edythe's lungs and her body was shaking so violently that her vision blurred. All she could feel was pain, and grief, and shame, and horror, and panic. These emotions surrounded her like demons, pulling at her, dragging her deeper into her subconscious, forcing her to feel, to accept everything she had said and done and decided, to force her to feel the full gravity of her decisions, and how it affected and effectively destroyed not only her but everyone around her.
Edythe fought for control and, somehow, forced everything back in; though it was like trying to pick up wet sand before the tide swallowed it whole once more, she scooped what was there and shoved back in, forcing her eyes to adjust and her head to clear, to think practically, logically. To shut down all feelings was the only thing that helped, but why wasn't it helping now? When she needed it most? She couldn't understand, and her body couldn't seem to bear it.
She needed to get away, Edythe realized, away from the house, away from town, away from anything and anyone that might see her like this. She couldn't afford that, she couldn't bear that. That thought gave her the tenacity to lift her foot off the brake, her hands on the steering wheel once more. Her mind didn't seem to register where she was going, but the car kept moving until she felt herself pulled it into a parking space and into park. She blinked and looked around.
She was in the back corner of a grocery store parking lot, several miles from Ithaca's center. She glanced around, unsure of what to do next. As she did, she caught a glance in her rearview mirror, seeing the unmistakable glint of a bus turning the far corner, headed toward the bus stop not far from where she had parked.
Without really thinking about it, Edythe pulled a few bills from her money clip, and stepped out of the car, pausing to toss her keys, wallet, and phone underneath the driver seat before slamming the car door as she made toward the stop. The driver stopped willingly at her approach and Edythe stepped through the open door, dropping the money into the till at the front and moving to the back of the half-full bus. She settled in a seat mid-way down the vehicle, pulling one knee up and putting her chin there, her eyes far away as she gazed of the window, unsure of where she was headed, but feeling she would know when she found the right spot.
It took about an hour of driving, with nothing but civilization passing outside the windows, before the next stop was announced as the county park. Edythe reached up and pulled the yellow wire, moving toward the door and stepping free from the bus as it paused on the sideways besides the stop. As the large cumbersome vehicle continued on its route, Edythe stepped off the ledge, crossing the street to the lawn before her. Of course, the grass was nothing but brown and dried up given the season, and Edythe trekked across it easily, taking in the expansive park that was, thankfully, not crowded.
Edythe avoided the packs of people, heading toward the small boardwalk that made up the path that lined the very northwest side of Cayuga Lake, covering the minute line of sand that ended in the deep blue gray water. At halfway between spring and winter, the lake wasn't frozen, and neither was the rest of the landscape. But it was hardly spring-like, the grass and dirt road beneath her feet hard and unforgiving due to its compact state of the last few months. For the beginning of March, it was unsurprisingly cold, and Edythe was hardly wearing adequate clothing, but she hardly seemed to notice the chill.
She made her way down the path, moving in the opposite direction of the traffic, wanting to be by herself. As she moved, her gaze wandered along the bank, her eyes catching the occasional frog or large trout that came too close to the mainland. She wanted so badly to release the emotions that she could feel pressed on her chest, the Band-Aided tissue threatening to burst fear at any moment, but she forced it back, refusing to allow herself to fall apart until she was prepared.
The park really was beautiful, and Edythe bet it would look better in the real spring, with actual green grass and foliage. But, too soon, the path ended; Edythe stood at the dead end, and debated on what she should do. She had passed the last of the people at least half a mile before, but this, the trail head, didn't feel right; it wasn't secluded enough. Her eyes grazed the low brush that lined the path and, after a moment, stepped forward.
She was able to make it through the low laying grasses to the bank, edging across the boundary where forest met sand and continued on, staying on the small path of sand that lined the lake. It was very narrow, only eighteen inches across, and at any time, Edythe felt she would be pushed by the bordering trees into the water, but she continued on, and found no such boundaries. Her feet kept going, and her mind with it, and time seemed to dissolve away. The cloud cover twisted the time of day, not that she had a watch on her to check the time regardless. But she felt no need to know, no need to do anything but walk and keep walking. Until finally, she didn't.
Her feet seemed to pause, and she stood, standing on the small strip of the bank, looking straight forward, unaware of what had caused her to do so. The weather had gotten colder, and the light wind seemed to bite at her face and ankles, at any part of her skin that wasn't covered. But she didn't feel the chill, she didn't feel the tremors, not from shivering anyway. The harshness of the feeling seemed to sharpen her vision, her senses and she almost seemed to welcome it, as it gave clarity, a split-second of distraction from the pressure weighing down on her.
Edythe wasn't sure how long she stood there, but she was surprised by the sudden coldness enveloping her feet. She looked down, realizing that the tide from the lake had stretched across the narrow strip, enveloping her shoes and socks in icy cold water. The surprising sharp stinging radiating through her feet as they were soaked through seemed to knock her out of her stupor momentarily and she glanced around, her eyes scanning the area. Forest surrounded her on three sides, with water taking up the fourth. Edythe looked out over the blue-gray surface, making out the large impending tuft of trees out on the water.
Objectively, Edythe knew what she was looking at: it was Cayuga Island, one of many that dotted the lake, though the second biggest one. It was virtually uninhabited, she knew, but many people would go out there for picnics during summer to enjoy the view. Of course, with this weather, no one would be doing so now. Most people reached the island via a boat serviced by a company on the northeast side of the lake, exactly opposite where she was now.
As Edythe looked at it, an urge—one so absurd even in her half-crazed, confused state she had to second guess it—came over her. But, as her mind continued to work, the idea seemed to be rationalized as less and less crazy and more and more as what she had been looking for. The island was only a mile or so from land on either side, which wasn't that far. It was guaranteed to be deserted, save for the wildlife that populated it now. Such an idea was tempting; a place where she could be alone, to wallow and succumb to her thoughts and emotions without the fear of someone coming upon her. Combined with the knowledge she would have to swim across, enveloping herself in the icy water, which had provided such relief just now, made her decision for her.
Not bothering to strip, Edythe took the one step into the water, inviting the icy stinging pain up her legs; she sighed quietly, and took another step. The feeling, though painful and unbearable to anyone else, seemed like she was being bathed in a ton of soothing oils, the sensation pulsating through her body, making her feel hyper-aware, and hyper focused. It was painful, Edythe admitted, but the pain was very clearly there, and something she could control, as she stepped further into the watery depths.
It did not take longer for Edythe to be too short to reach the lake floor, and she immediately shifted forward onto her stomach, allowing her chest and arms to be soaked through to the bone. Her body seemed to sing in equal amounts pain and relief, and, for the first time, Edythe forgot about the never ceasing ache in her back, as the new pain surfaced and overcame, bringing Edythe to focus on nothing but that. Latching onto the feeling, she began to swim.
The journey took far longer than Edythe had expected; though she could only remember swimming as a vampire, her human body was able to fall into step with the motions, and she had little trouble. The current got slightly stronger as she had reached the halfway point, but that didn't stop her. The need to use her muscles to cut through the surface made every movement heightened from the intense cold of the freezing water, and such reprieve that the water brought, urged Edythe to keep going. When she finally hit the sandy shore of the island, she was also disappointed.
Edythe pulled herself from the waves, stepping up the bank and looking around. By now, she could definitely tell it was darker than it had been, even through the layer of cloud cover. She saw no signs of human life, and made her way past the driftwood and sticks that lined the small beach. Her clothes were heavy, thick with water, but she didn't stop to wring them out. She moved toward the path that she could see that led into the small forest of the little island, feeling the silence press down on her.
It was not scary to her, or even unnerving, but comforting somehow. There was no one listening or watching her, save for the couple of deer and crows she saw as she had hit the bank. They shied away from her and she made her way along the short path, where she could see a clearing not far from the shore line.
As she moved along the narrow path, Edythe's hand caught on something and felt sudden pain. She glanced down, seeing the prick of blood coming from the wound in her palm. The jagged end of a branch had plunged partially into her skin but she found the red oozing from her cut had no effect on her; instead, she looked it over thoughtfully, as if only mildly interested, before moving on, coming to a stop into the clearing just a few feet into the forest. There stood four or five picnic tables, the oak wood dull and weathered. She went over to one of them, choosing to pull herself up onto the table top rather than sit on the accompanying benches.
Edythe sat crosslegged, her hands in her lap, and she looked out, being able to see the lake through the thin layer of trees. She could understand why people chose to come here; the island most definitely provided a picturesque view in the proper weather. But now, the darkness engulfed it, as well as Edythe and, rather than be afraid, she welcomed it and, in doing so, she let the metaphorical dam give way.
"Where's Edythe?" It was the first question that Carine asked when she returned from work mid-evening. Her husband brushed his lips against hers lightly in greeting, but her eyes were scanning the front room, where all of her children accounted for, save one.
"Dr. Thompson called her into the hospital again," Earnest informed her, his arms sliding around her waist. "I guess it's another long night." Carine glanced at the clock, her frown deepening.
"Have you not heard from her?" she asked. When Earnest shook his head, she glanced around to the others, specifically Beau.
"No, I haven't," the human admitted.
"I haven't see her make any decisions since she decided to go in," Archie added helpfully.
"She might just be busy and forgot. It's happened before, when she gets so preoccupied she forgets the time," Eleanor suggested.
"Yes…" Carine mused, still unsure. As she did so, she pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her pants, scrolling through to the conversation thread for Amanda Thompson. The last message was from last night, where the veterinarian had confirmed with Carine that Edythe had gotten home after the long shift. The sense of unease—a feeling Carine seemed to have constantly now—grew slightly as she pressed the shortcut to place a call. She placed it to her ear, and her family watched her with varying degrees of interest. Only Beau watched with rapt attention, unable to hear the other side of the conversation like the vampires could. Amanda picked up on the third ring.
"Hi, Carine, how are you?" she greeted the human doctor.
"I'm doing well, Amanda. I just wanted to inquire when we would be expecting Edythe home tonight." Carine responded.
"Expecting her home?" Amanda asked, confused.
"Yes. Two long shifts in a row make me worried she's not getting enough sleep, and I don't want her driving home that late if she's as tired as she was yesterday. I can have one of her siblings come and get her." Carine spoke conversationally as she moved to place a hand on the back of the sofa, leaning against the back of the piece of furniture. There was a long pause, too long.
"Amanda? Are you still there?" Carine asked, wondering if the line disconnected; one glance at the screen confirmed it hadn't. Finally, Amanda's voice spoke slowly.
"Carine, Edythe's not here."
A/N: It's been a while since I've done a cliffhanger haha But this was a longer chapter too so I hope that you guys liked that!
I know there may be some people saying "there's no way Edythe would do this"; my response is well we really don't know what Edythe or Edward would do. Edythe was never human in canon, nor was any other character (in terms of vampire to human) so we have no idea on what the ramifications could be, hence the entire existence of this story.
But again, Mortality is based on the characters we love: a vampire family, a former vampire, and her human mate, going through the more "normal" human obstacles of life should the protagonist be changed back to their human form. I wrote this story to explore that path, and this is one of them. If you don't agree, you are welcome to stop reading.
I have no problems with input and criticism, but I find criticizing my choice to go this way with this story, to have Edythe tackle something that is very very real (mental health is a large problem now, especially since the hell that was 2020 happened, and has been address in the more public eye). It is real, it is human real, and someone like Edythe I find it isn't a stretch to imagine, as anyone could be suffering, in any way, without anyone realizing.
I don't mean to sound cruel, but I am hesitant to post this chapter because, no matter how much I like this story plot and see it maybe a crucial one to do, to bring a sense of reality to the Cullens and Beau that maybe I haven't been able to do before, I know not everyone is going to feel that way, and that is fine, but I also know I risk having to listen to people criticize this large part fo the story and, in effect, the purpose behind the story of a whole. I'll say I have decently tough skin (especially after reading the stuff people posted about Human Again), but even I don't want to seek out having that kind of flashback. But here I am, posting this and letting it out in the open.
Anyway, sorry for another excessively long post-chapter AN; I'm sorry if any of it sounded too harsh, but I figured I might as well try to explain myself and my thinking behind what I do in a chapter to hopefully assuage some people from writing potentially nasty things :(
Anyway anyway, I hope that you (maybe?) enjoyed it! Many questions were raised, the most intriguing of which being: how are Carine, Earnest, Beau, and the others going to react to Edythe 'missing'?Please let me know your thoughts (while being respectful, I plead) in a review, if you are so inclined! Happy Saturday and the second half of this cliffhanger will be up next week!