The moment we enter the living room, all eyes are staring at us, well… at me. All those hazel eyes staring right at my soul make my head spin, and I can't think straight. I can feel Esme's hand on my shoulder as Carlisle walks up to us.
—You're back. He says, smiling. —How was shopping? Did you have fun? He asks, looking at me.
—Yes, I did. It was… great. I'm not sure how I'm doing it, but I'm calmer now than I thought possible. Maybe, it's the fact that I froze in place, and my mind is blank, but right now, I can tell my face is quite expressionless, although I feel like I might scream at any moment. Esme, Alice, and I are in front of the living room entrance with Carlisle and Jasper a few steps away in front of us and two people by the piano. I can feel their eyes, but I try my best not to stare at them.
—I'm glad. Carlisle answers, reaching his arm toward the two other people by the piano. —This is Emmett and Rosalie.
—What's up, shorty? The guy named Emmett says, smiling at me. He takes a few steps forward, getting closer to us, and I can tell better now just how big he is. He's about three inches taller than me, so I get why he thought it would be funny to call me shorty. He has short dark hair and the same eyes as Esme and all the others. He doesn't look annoyed or angry, which is a good sign. His smile is wide, but I can feel the same cold distance in his eyes that I felt from Carlisle. He's not like Jasper, but not that comfortable with me like Alice, but it's a relief that the biggest person in the room doesn't see me as a threat. I wish I could say the same about the other one.
The woman next to Emmett is less than amused to see me. She strolls in my direction, arms crossed, and has a mean look on her face. She is just… beautiful. She has long, straight blond hair and perfect skin. Her lips are rosy, and her eyelashes long and fluttery. I can feel my self-confidence shrinking to the size of a bean just by looking at her. In all her perfection, the angry look on her face feels out of place. She looks at me the way you look at a crumble on the table. Like I'm nothing. Her angry eyes move from me to Esme and Alice.
—You gotta be kidding me… She says, standing right in front of Esme, ignoring me.
Alice's watch beeps loudly, letting her know the robot has reached the room. Saved by the gong.
—Oooookay, that's us. We're going upstairs. Alice pulls me by my arm and pushes me upstairs. I can feel the heaviness in the air, just like everyone else. Jasper, Carlisle, and Emmett are all just looking at the scene, probably as afraid as I am to say anything.
—Have you learned nothing, Esme? Hearing her call her mother by the first name makes me turn around. They're fighting. —You'll put us through this again?
—Rose… Esme doesn't back down, and I can see she's getting angry. Alice is pushing me upstairs, and I'm resisting her the best I can.
—I won't be part of this. Put her back where you found her. I won't let… an insect like her ruin our family again. Rosalie points at me when she says, "insect." Her eyes make me shiver in fear. She looks like she's about to hit me or something. She wants me out of her house. Right now.
Alice is paying attention to the fight, so she's not really pushing me that hard, but after seeing Rosalies's eyes, she picked up the pace. I take my eyes off the fight for a moment, trying to resist, and that's when I hear the slap. Alice looks as surprised as me, and we both turn to Esme and Rosalie. The guys are just staring at them wide-eyed. The noise sounded so loud to me that if there were neighbors around, I'm sure they would've heard as well.
Esme hit Rosalie. To be more specific, she slapped her right across the face. Rosalie is holding her cheek and looking surprised at her mother. Esme has an angry look in her eyes when she finally speaks.
—Apologize. Right now. Esme's voice is steady and… threatening. I can barely believe Esme is the one talking. I've only heard sweet words coming out of her mouth so far.
Rosalie comes to her senses and walks away from Esme, further into the living room, and then out of a door next to the window. Alice also seems to come back to reality, and now she basically carries me upstairs right into the room. When we get inside, she looks at the closed door for a moment, processing. I'm standing up next to the bed, looking down at the floor, feeling my body shaking a little, but I can't make a sound.
—Don't worry about that. Alice says, smiling awkwardly at me. —Rose always had a nasty temper. Don't take it personally. She and Es… ahm… mom were kind of fighting already before you came. Alice walks over to the closet where the carrier is waiting to be unloaded. She takes down all the bags, and the robot leaves the room.
—How do you wanna organize them? By color or by season? Alice's voice sounds distant in my ears. I sit on the bed, letting it all sink in. What was that? Why would Esme slap her own daughter? For a stranger? It doesn't matter how rude Rosalie was; I can't find a reason for Esme to have hit her. This is her house. Rosalie has all the right to be protective over it. What made her do that?
Rosalie said she wasn't "going to go through this again" and something about Esme not "learning anything." Maybe they've been through a similar situation before? Maybe they met a stranger and took them in, and things didn't go well? What did that person do? Stole from them? Lied to them?
When listing facts in my mind makes me even more confused, my mind enters a state of denial.
Whatever it is, it's not my fault. Alice said they were fighting even before I got here, so they're probably just letting out their frustrations toward each other. This fight is not my fault, so I don't have to leave, right? They wouldn't ask me to leave now, right? Esme can't send me away. She promised… she promised…
I can feel my throat closing up. The pressure is like a basketball stuck inside it, suffocating me. The waterworks come right after. I can feel the tears dropping on my hands and my shoulders shaking.
I didn't cry, not even once so far. Not even when I woke up alone in that forest or when I realized I had no memories. I could hold them in every time. Not even all that happiness that danced in my chest when Esme hugged me for the first time was enough to make me cry, but the thought of being left behind after believing I could stay… the possibility that I caused her and her children to fight… that broke me.
I'm holding my voice not to start wailing, but the tears are still rolling down fast. I can feel Alice near me, in silence. She probably doesn't know what to say, or maybe she knows nothing can really calm me down right now. The room door opens fast, making a loud noise, so I look up. Esme hesitates for a moment only, as our eyes meet, and hugs me.
—It's all right, dear. It's not your fault. I would never tell you to leave.
When Esme says the truth behind my tears, I can breathe again. The tears flow quicker, and it's like they are finally free to leave my body.
I tried to control myself, thinking that I didn't have to, or deserved, to let myself feel helpless. I told myself that crying like a baby wasn't the solution and that I should act like an adult, but this… situation was too much for me to handle from the beginning. The constant heart palpitations were my body's warning to the level of stress I was bottling up, and now, at last, it blew up on my face.
I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be abandoned to my own luck, like that night in the forest. I don't want to be left with strangers that won't think twice before passing me around like a burden. I want to feel safe. I have to feel safe. Esme is the person that makes me feel like that. I felt pulled towards her because my heart saw something in her eyes; it saw compassion.
I let myself sink into the embrace until the tears finally stopped. I let go of her and dried out my eyes the best I could.
—Feeling better now? She asks in her usual sweet voice.
—Yes… I say, finally feeling brave enough to ask her what was bothering me. —Why did you do that? I asked without looking into her eyes. I just had to know why she hit her daughter for a stranger.
Esme touches my chin, raising my head.
—Rosalie was out of line. She was rude and selfish, a behavior I always disapproved of, and today, she crossed the line.
She has a small smile on her lips and puts a strand of hair behind my ear before continuing.
—It wasn't entirely because of you. Rose has… difficulty accepting people into our family. Some would say she's rude, but I believe she just loves us too much. That makes her very cautious of strangers, and sometimes she uses harsh words that can hurt others.
She takes a deep breath.
—The truth is, a few years ago, when my younger son got married, Rose also had… difficulty accepting his wife into the family. They are not exactly best friends now, but Rosalie truly sees her as family. She just needs time to get used to you. No one can judge you because of your situation. You can't be blamed for what happened to you. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.
Esme didn't go into details about what Rosalie said. She justified her behavior but didn't really tell me why she was so angry, and I understand it. Her family history is none of my business; I just feel guilty for starting a fight just for being here.
—It's getting late, and you must be hungry. Esme says, breaking the heavy atmosphere. —Why don't you take a shower and I'll bring something for us to eat?
—Yeah, I'm starving. She looks at me with the warmest smile I have seen so far.
—Hey, you're smiling! I can feel the sides of my mouth pulling up farther and farther as I watch her smile. Not bad for my first smile. I think to myself as I enjoy the warm feeling in my chest.
After Esme leaves the room, I take my shower. The hot water relaxes my muscles, but it doesn't empty my mind. I still have a lot I don't understand. How will I talk with any of them after this? I might not be able to be myself with any of them besides Esme after this. Well, I could never be myself from the beginning. After all, I don't know who I am.
Esme brought the food upstairs, and we ate together. We talked about the new clothes, the weather for the days to come, how she has a greenhouse in the backyard she wants to show me, her hobbies. She even told me about the big Christmas party they are planning for when her younger son returns with his family. Inside that short time with her, I smiled more than I ever did my whole life. When I recover my memories, I'm sure that I'll remember happy moments, but right here, right at this moment, this is the happiest day of my life.
After dinner, Esme left the room too soon. I start making the bed, but I don't have an ounce of sleep in me, so I sit on the sofa under the window.
—Turn off the lights, Eve. I say to the robot in the room, and she turns off the lights slowly.
The soft moonlight inside the room is cold and relaxing. The view from the window is depressing but dull enough to keep my mind calm.
I support my head on my keens and close my eyes, picturing myself waking up in the forest again, looking for details I might've missed, sounds I ignored or forgot. Why did I run in that direction? Why did I wake up here of all places? Was it all coincidence?
The sleep that was dodging me all this time comes in a big wave. My mind feels tired, and I can barely keep my eyes open, so I drag my body into bed, sheets over my head. The memory loss inconsistencies bother me. I know it's different from the movies, so a bang in the head won't solve my problem. I'll need a computer, is my last conscious thought before falling asleep.
Another gray morning greets me outside the window. The clock on the bed table read six-thirty. Way too early. I stand up quietly, wash my face, and brush my teeth before making the bed.
I try to find familiarity with my movements and habits, but it doesn't mean I was born in a particular state or country because I fold my sheets a certain way.
When we were in Forks, I actually remembered those things—the information about the city, the songs, actors, and movies. I understand more than ever now that I have to remember. I can still hear the sound of Esme hitting Rosalie yesterday. All the fear and uncertainty are still inside me, waiting to tear me apart. I can't just stand around like dead weight.
I go for the comfortable clothes Esme got me. Jeans and a white hoodie. I skip the nanotech since it's warm inside the house, tie my hair in a low ponytail and practice a smile on the mirror a few times. —Good morning, Mrs. Cullen. I say to the mirror, trying to smile the best I can, but I can't get used to calling Esme Mrs. Cullen. Maybe I should say just "good morning."
It's already seven o'clock when I finish getting ready. I walk up to the door and reach for the handle but stop mid-way, remembering Rosalie's eyes. What will I say to her? Should I apologize? I guess… I can say sorry for the trouble, but I don't want to apologize for needing help. Will she say anything to me? Or just stare at me uncomfortably every moment of the day until it's unbearable to share a roof with her? I'm breaking in a cold sweat when Alice suddenly opens the door, making me take a few steps back.
—Hey… What's wrong? Alice laughs a little at my startled face.
—Nothing. I was about to open the door when you opened it first and startled me.
—Hum… She looks at me up and down before continuing —Ok then. I was gonna wake you up, but since you're ready, we can go downstairs. Everybody already had breakfast.
—Sure. Let's go. I thought I was early, but everyone's already up. I follow Alice downstairs, looking around for any signs of Rosalie or Emmett, but, lucky me, there is no one in the entrance hall or the living room. I don't have to face Rosalie, at least not now.
Yesterday I decided to understand more about my condition and the only way to do that without bothering Carlisle is to use the internet, but I need an access point. I can control the robot in my room for the simple stuff, but I can't access the internet without being registered in the houses' central server.
When we enter the living room, the smell in the air is fantastic. I keep following Alice to the same door Rosalie used last night when she left. It's a little hidden, next to the window in the back of the room on the left side.
A nice kitchen and dining room greet us when we pass through the door. The first thing I see is a colossal table that looks like natural wood. Many chairs are around it, and a nice wide window is on the right side. Probably the same window that starts in the living room continues all the way here. The rain outside is thin, and the skies gray and dark, but the view of the trees is fantastic.
A little ahead, a metal kitchen island with high stools around it gives a touch of modernity to the room. Behind it is a big kitchen with two massive fridges decorated with colorful magnets, a stove, and a sink. Esme looks busy cooking something as she turns around to greet us.
—Good morning. She says, smiling and putting a plate on the kitchen island. I walk over to the hot eggs and sausages next to a cup of orange juice.
—Good morning. I sit down on one of the tall stools.
The smell of the food makes my stomach growl.
—Try it. Esme says, sitting right in front of me. I say a shy thank you and start to eat. The food is so delicious that I forget to take breaks between bites.
Alice is sitting next to me, looking at something on her phone, and while I devour the food in front of me, she speaks with a calm, relaxed voice.
—I was thinking. She says. —We should choose a name for you while Jasper is away. I almost spit the food in my mouth after hearing what she said.
—Jasper? I ask a little too loud, trying not to choke. It's not really the question I want to make, but…
—Yeah, he… has a few friends that can help us find your family. Alice says, looking at Esme and then back at me. —Anyway, I think Julianne is a beautiful name for you and Anne would be the perfect nickname, cuz we can't call you, well, "you" all the time and…. Alice's voice fades away as I wrap my head around what she said.
My heart is dancing in my chest right now. A name? She thought of a name. So, she's not angry about yesterday? The hair in my arms is standing now. She… She's ok with me staying. What about Esme?
She's smiling and watching my reactions. She knew about this. She probably helped choose the name herself. All the others must know then? They all agreed? I can feel butterflies in my stomach as I realize I've been somewhat accepted in this house. This is my body's way of telling me I'm happy, and although I know things are not that simple, I can't stop myself from feeling this way.
—Hey, you know how to smile! Alice says, looking at me. —So, you like it then?
—I love it. I… love it. Thank you.
Having an actual name given to me by the people who took me in makes me feel less anxious and more welcome. I know a fake name is nothing before a lifetime of lost memories, but it's enough to give me an identity.
I finish my food, gather up all the confidence my new name gave me, and ask if there's a computer I could use in the house. Alice's the one to answer.
—Sure, Anne. Come, the central server is in the TV room. I can register you from there, but don't get surprised by how loud Emmett can be. He's there, and the game is on.
—Thank you! I say happy my plan is working.
I follow her across the entrance hall to a big door on the other side. When we go inside, the sounds of cheer from the TV on the corner fill the room. That place feels more private than the living room—a place where they gather to have fun and talk. Emmett is sitting on a big sofa with his feet on the center table and turns around smiling when we go in.
—Hey, shorty. He looks unbothered by yesterday's events, so I'm not sure what he thinks about me. I thought I made a good impression, but I'm not sure now.
—Good morning. I say with a shy smile.
—Her name is Julianne. Alice says, making me even shyer.
—Did she remember? He asks, looking confused.
—No. Alice sounded annoyed. —We talked about this, remember?
—Oh, right. But, there was going to be a vote, no? She was going to choose, or something like that? Emmett scratches his head like he's trying to remember something.
—Mine was going to be the winner anyway, so no need for that. Alice's smile to Emmett says, "I won."
—Sure. Why did I even ask… Emmett takes a deep breath a looks back at the TV.
After… whatever that was between Emmett and Alice, she takes me to a glass table a few steps away from the sofa, next to some old-looking video game machines with some yellow smiling face character I don't recognize. After a few fingerprint scans and voice tests later, I'm registered in the system and have access to the internet and all the public access points in the house. After we finish, she says, "have fun," and leaves the room. I'm relieved she didn't ask me why I wanted to use the computer because I didn't want to explain it yet.
I start my research with the basic stuff. Like, "What is amnesia?" and "What causes amnesia?" In my case, the most probable cause is some physical or psychological trauma. Also, it's the kind where I remember what happened after the trauma only.
I found something that sounds like what I'm experiencing now, but it says I should remember something by looking at familiar faces or photos, so I should remember something by looking at my face, no? Or does it have to be pictures of people I used to know? Argh… this is too confusing. After only a few minutes of researching, I already feel frustrated. My situation is different from the ones online. Mine feels more like an edited thing. Like someone cut out the parts about my personal life but left the stuff that had no sentimental value, like the nanotech jingle and star signs. Nothing fits my profile. At this rate, I'll have to rely on Carlisle to tell me what is wrong with my head.
I keep looking but find nothing. Most of the articles start promising, but they're entirely different from my situation by the end.
Just for curiosity, I take a look at the systems in the house. I feel a little weird snooping around, but I can't help it. I pull up the house files and go over the blueprints. Two floors. The main hall, living room, and TV room are not even 1/4 of the house. Are all these rooms for guests? Two game rooms, two garages, a library or maybe a study? I try to pull up the 3D model of the house, but it's not available, so I take a better look at the blueprint. No security system? No cameras, no fences around the house? I'm about to open the outside blueprint when my eyes wander to the side.
A vase of flowers I didn't notice before caught my eye. They are hydrangeas, and by the look of it, recently harvested. They have a sweet and pleasant smell that brings something to my mind… something like… the shadow of a memory. Perfume? No… a… painting.
Emmett's voice startles me. He looks very anxious watching the game. A yellow and white team is playing against another, wearing blue and black in a very intense match. I don't feel any particular way about football, and I'm not sure if I've ever seen a game before, but I understand well enough to know that it is a close match for the championship. I shouldn't be surprised to know this kind of random stuff.
The game arena is packed with fans, and with the clock running out, talent is what's going to decide this match. The blue team looks confident they can win, but they shouldn't let their guard down based on the point difference. One mistake can end them, so they're playing it safe, trying to hold their ground until the clock stops. The yellow team players look like they're at their wits' end, and with the pressure building up, they might try some despaired play.
Emmett looks like he's rooting for the yellow team. At every failed attempt they make, he gets more nervous and complains even more loudly.
Compared with the failure of my research, the game looks a lot more interesting. I close all the windows on the computer and, just to be safe, clean out the access logs. I don't want them to know I was… snooping around. Somehow my fingers know precisely what keys to press to erase my tracks, and honestly, I don't question that anymore. I stand up and stand behind the sofa, observing the game.
—You like football, shorty? Emmett asks, noticing my presence but keeping his eyes on the screen where the yellow teams' coach is setting up their final play, one last chance to turn the game around.
—It looks… exciting. I'm not that interested; I just need a pause from failing miserably at finding clues about how to recover my memory.
The yellow team's coach puts in a new player when the timeout is over. The commentators point out his speed but are concerned that he is still recovering from an injury. Like a thought, a desperate move.
Well, that's what the commentators said, but when the clock starts running again, and they put the ball on the new player's hands, I feel like they lied. He runs through the field like he's strolling around the park by himself, avoiding each blue player with fantastic agility, and Emmett is on the edge of his seat. When the payer finally gets to the endzone, the clock buzzes, and just like that, he turns the game around, and the yellow team wins.
Emmett jumps in the air celebrating, and I smile, looking at how excited he is until he gets way too excited and picks me up on his shoulder, jumping and spinning around singing something I can't understand because, well, I'm turning in the air.
Esme comes through the door, looking worried and telling Emmett to put me down. When my feet touch the ground, I can't keep my balance and fall on my butt with a loud bang.
—Poor thing! She looks like a tomato, Emmett! Esme sounds angry, but to be honest, it was fun, like riding a roller-coaster. I turn back to Emmett and smile, giving him a thumbs up. He smiles back and gives me a high-five.
It's around ten o'clock at night when Carlisle finally comes back to the house, still wearing his hospital gown. I'm going upstairs after dinner when I see him coming inside. He looks serious and doesn't look at me when he passes by the hall straight into the kitchen, where Esme and Rosalie are.
Rosalie came back a few hours before Carlisle and was in the TV room. She said hi to her mother but ignored me completely. After I left the kitchen, she went inside, again, ignoring my presence. To be honest, I felt relieved she was talking to her mother again and that she didn't say anything to me. I had no idea what I wanted to tell her, so silence is better…maybe.
Maybe I should ask him about the results of the tests. I start to walk downstairs again, but Alice passes by after him and waves her hand at me, telling me to go back upstairs. She looks concerned about something, so I decide to talk with him another time.
I take a long hot shower, trying to empty my mind. For a few moments, all I can feel is the hot water hitting the back of my head and rolling down to my face, but it doesn't take long until thoughts start popping up again. It doesn't matter what I do; these thoughts always come back to haunt me. This is not my house, and they are not my family. When I remember everything, I won't answer to this name; I won't live here and probably never going to speak to them again, not even Esme. I try to shake the dark thoughts from my head, but I have nothing to replace them with. Even the happy moments put me on edge, afraid of the day they'll be a painful memory. I have to start taking it a day at a time. Today is more important than tomorrow.
*every time a line comes up, there is a shift in the story's perspective to a different character. This way, I can tell all sides of the events when necessary.*
Carlisle came back home very concerned about his findings. He gathered Esme and the others in the kitchen after the girl when to her bedroom.
—We have a situation. He says, making Esme nervous.
—What do you mean? Rosalie asks.
—I analyzed her results, and it's… something. His eyes are severe as he thinks of the best way to deliver the news.
—She's… different. He continues. —I couldn't find any reasons for losing her memory, and none of her bloodwork makes sense.
—What doesn't make sense? Esme asks. She's more on edge than anyone there. She brought the girl inside their house for her own selfish reasons and knows there will be consequences. Jacob is already pressuring them about her.
—The blood doesn't react to the tests. She could be allergic to something or sick in some way, but I can't analyze her blood to find out.
—You think she is sick? Emmett asks, looking at Esme. She looks like she's about to fall apart.
—No, she appears healthy, but I can't discard an unknown disease after this. I need you all to keep an eye on her and report back to me if something feels off. I'll keep doing more tests and see what I can find.
—What about Jacob? We can't keep ignoring him and Sam. Rosalie is tired of him blowing up her phone when Esme ignores his calls.
—I told him to come to the house tomorrow, see with his own eyes the girl is safe. We can manage Jacob, but not them. Esme… we might not be able to keep this up for much longer. Carlisle understands Esme's feeling for the girl, but he also knows they are looking for any excuse to eliminate his family. Keeping the girl here might be the grain of rice to tilt the balance.
—I know… I know. Just a bit more time. Please. Esme's request is full of pain and sadness. They can't deny her, so they join her. They are family, after all.