I give you Esme!
This was heart wrenching to write, but had to be done. Esme's tale is one of the saddest in my mind, but needed to be written. However, remember while reading that she does eventually have her happy ending. I write the characters in these stories to be the seeds – they eventually grow and change to become the characters we fell in love with in The Twilight Saga. That being said, please realize that they might not do things you would assume the 'Twilight' version of them to do.
I believe that the changes that make them Immortal have a large impact on their lives. Enjoy!
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Esme - 1921
"There you are dear…now try to go home and get some rest, okay?"
Esme stared blankly at the nurse that was discharging her as she handed her papers to sign. She stood, frozen and blank faced in the hospital office, looking unfeelingly at the woman in front of her.
"After you sign these…" she said, pushing the paper a little further towards her, "after you sign these everything will be…taken care of.' The nurse adjusted her tightly collared shirt and gave the small woman in front of her a tight, pained smile. It was obvious she wanted her out of there as quickly as possible to tend to her other list of duties for the evening.
Esme blinked, her expression empty as she licked her parched lips, her eyes slowly moving down to the counter where the paperwork sat.
I came in here with something and now I'm leaving with nothing…
Her movements were a little pained and slow; the tablet the nurse had told her to put under her tongue several hours ago hadn't helped. She said it would make her feel better; instead it just made her feel sluggish and queasy.
The light above them hummed slightly, cracking quietly as a fuse shortened, bringing Esme back to the present. She would have rather scratched out her own eyes than sign the release papers in front of her. The nurse tapped where she was to sign with her pen, quickly turning it around the Esme to grasp.
Esme signed her name, her fingertips so numb she could barely feel the pen grasped in her hands. She wasn't even sure if she had even written anything legible.
"There you are. Now like I said…go home…take a few days. Things will all go back to normal, you see?" She gave her an expectant look, and Esme nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.
Picking up her over packed carpet bag from the tile floor, she began to walk towards the hospital doors. As soon as the January air hit her face, she realized that her head had begun to throb. Not that she was surprised. She had done more crying in the past three days than she had done or ever would do, she was sure.
Her head felt lighter than usual as she tried to focus.
She stood outside the small, Bayfield hospital doors. The cruel, late January wind of Wisconsin whipped around her pale face, furthering her anguish. She began to walk, slowly putting one food in front of the other, but with no end in mind.
Pulling her worn wool coat tighter around her, she fastened the belt of it around her still tender stomach, wincing slightly as she pulled it taught. Her hand went to apply pressure to the aching muscles that dwelled there, and her heart instantly sank.
The pain of entering a hospital so warm and full of life and having to leave just days later empty and void of it was a feeling she wouldn't have wished up on her worse enemy. Void did not even come close to describing the feeling of the hole in her chest that ached for her little boy. She had held him as he gasped for his last little breaths, his little body falling still after fighting for his short life.
She was alone now, once again. Clutching her hand across her stomach, she felt her lip start to tremble as she was suddenly sucked into the emptiness of her womb. Her baby didn't dwell there anymore….
Her baby, Matthew, had only lived to barely complete his second day on earth, only to fall ill and die shortly after midnight the night before. She had known something was wrong when she had gotten up to feed him and his little body was shaking with pain as a violent fever had overtaken him. His immune system was too weak to compete, and he hadn't lived to see the morning. The hospital had allowed her to stay all day that day in order to collect herself and finish healing her external wounds from giving birth.
But how was she to heal the wounds that now dwelled in her heart?
Her chest began to ache as the familiar feeling of approaching tears began to overcome her. She would have never thought it was possible for her heart to physically break; however, this feeling was uncannily like what she would imagine a heart breaking to feel like.
She bit her lip as she looked around again, hoping to see something. A sign, an idea, anything to give her a clue as to what to do next. She had nowhere to go now. It had taken an almost unreasonable amount of assuring the hospital nurse that she was a war widow and that she had no family left to call. The hospital had not wanted her to suffer alone today after her new baby's death, but Esme knew that suffering alone was better than suffering the wrath of her husband.
The kind nurse that had helped her in labor had gently assured her as she wept that Matthew's death was not her fault; the infection he carried had been with him even in the womb, and it was nothing Esme did. His immune system had been weak from the start, and being born a few weeks early had not helped his case. Even with reassurance, Esme still felt like she was to blame for her little angel's death.
She reached in her pocket and fingered the small hospital bracelet that they had cut off his little wrist when he had passed away early that morning. She had sobbed when they handed it to her, along with his little blue hat and night gown.
The wind whipped around the corner of the hospital, slamming her caramel hair into the side of her face. She winced and tried to smooth it down; her normal curls that she carefully styled had been replaced with rats and snarls from spending all day curled up in bed. Glancing at herself in a store window, she bit her trembling lip when she saw how wrecked she looked. Her pale face was drawn and puffy from crying, and her wrinkled clothes from her small bag did nothing to help her.
The sadness kept bubbling up in her chest, making it hard to breathe. If she returned home to her husband, she would surely pay for not returning with his son. She had no real money or ideas as to where to go, and it was quickly getting darker and colder with each passing minute.
Esme Platt was truly alone.
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"Here ya go child," the older woman muttered, setting down a cup of coffee in front of her. "It's not that fresh, but it's hot," she said.
"That's fine," Esme said, wrapping her small hands around the steaming mug. She watched as the waitress walked away, wincing as she plodded on her tired feet. The ball above the door rang merrily as another couple left the already quiet little coffee shop.
Esme looked down at the steam that was rising in smoking rings from the cup, her hands soaking up the warmth from the hot liquid. She didn't even really enjoy coffee normally, but it was the only thing she could really afford to buy at the diner with the few dollars she had to her name, and it was hot.
She wasn't sure how long she sat, sipping the coffee as it grew cold, her eyes darting up to watch the clock get later and later. The little diner hadn't been busy when she walked in several hours before, and it certainly wasn't busy now. One couple remained, and the waitress was leaning on the counter, tapping her fingers as she waited impatiently for the clientele to leave. When they finally stood and left, Esme looked at the woman with guilty eyes.
"I'll be leaving now, sorry to stay so late," she said quietly, leaving a few coins on the small table she had taken up for several hours.
"It's no trouble. You come back now, hear?" she said gruffly, leaning down to wipe the table.
"Yes…I will," Esme mumbled, tightening her coat around her middle and stepping outside. That was a lie.
Several aspects of her life had become very apparent while she lingered there, all alone in the corner coffee shop. Esme had sat there, her mouth pressed into a thin line as she had run down the list. Her parents would never support her or hide her from her husband, who would want to come after her for sure for the death of his son. It wasn't' possible to go back to that after what she had been through. It would be too much to bear, and she had been through enough pain the last few months to last her a lifetime. She had nowhere to go, no money, and no hope for anything else. She couldn't even afford a place to stay.
Esme stood in the protection of the diner's entrance nook for a few seconds before stepping out and letting the cruel Wisconsin air beat at her cheeks.
Even the wind feels as if it wants to punish me.
She didn't plan to come back to that diner, she didn't plan to come back to Bayfield…. she didn't' plan to come back anywhere period.
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Matthew.
Matthew.
Her thoughts took a desperate and agonizing turn as she shuffled down the sidewalk towards the edge of town.
Was he with the angels now in heaven? Would they know how to take care of her darling baby boy? Her heart ached at the next thought she had.
What if she was to…join him? Surely God would forgive her. She couldn't live on this earth anymore, haunted by her painful memories and the very real danger that was her husband. Would it be so bad to end it all?
No, it certainly would not. Even if there was nothing waiting for her in her afterlife but a bleak nothingness, it would at least be better than what life could offer her now. Floating on a sea of black unfeeling for the rest of eternity would be better than being punished here on earth.
She mindlessly walked to the edge of the town of Bayfield, which sat near the edge of Lake Superior. It was a pretty little town, very small and picturesque, but that didn't even register with Esme. It was a horrid place that held the cruelest, most painful memories for her and she couldn't bear to be there for one more second.
The lights of the streets only shone so far, and now she found herself in the darkness as she walked through the woods. It was almost like another force was pulling her forward, away from all the pain that dwelled there. The full moon shone brightly, illuminating the frosty forest as the leaves crunched under her feet. Glancing over her shoulder, she made her sure no one had seen her leave the sidewalks and head into the forest.
A strange wave of calm had washed over her, soothing her pain and frazzled nerves as soon as her decision had been made. The bare branches of the little saplings barely stung as they brushed across her frozen cheeks. The snow crunched under her feet, the sleet giving it a thin coating of ice.
This place is cold. And Cruel. I don't want to stay here anymore. If only someone would do it for me. I'm…I'm so scared.
Things would be better from now on. She had mourned her baby boy and was ready for it all to be over.
The wind off the lake had increased tenfold since she had left the protection of the buildings in town. It now raced around her little body, chilling it deeply. Yet somehow, the cold made her feel even better as it numbed her to the core. Her pained emotions wound themselves through her limbs with bone crushing agony, but the cold wind was slowly making all of the pain go away.
She approached the end of the tree line, wincing a little as her shoes crunched against the gravel and what was left of a recent snow. The tears that had fallen down her pale cheeks left tracks of moisture on them, and they burned in the cold. The moon shone down brightly as the gentle waves lapped at the rocky shoreline below, the waves making a cracking sound as they hit the ice that still gathered there. Esme looked up at the slightly clouded sky, her eyes searching for the stars that she knew were behind it. The wind had moved a light shield over the moon, and she lowered her head as the darkness shrouded her.
It all felt like a cruel punishment.
She was alone in the darkness, and at this moment, she felt as though she was more alone than anyone had ever been. Dropping her bag down, she barely registered the soft 'thump' it made as it hit the ground. Her now empty hands shook slightly as she walked further and further towards the edge. The waves lapping at the shore seemed to call quietly to her as she stood there, another gust of chilly wind hitting her face.
All she wanted was for the pain to be over. She wanted to be alone in a sea of black nothingness where she couldn't feel pain, fear, or abandonment anymore. All she wanted was for it to be over.
And then, she took her next step.
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She didn't remember falling, she didn't remember the wind in her hair as her small body sailed down the cliff face, and she didn't remember meeting the rock-strewn bottom with a deafening smack. All she knew is that she couldn't feel anything anymore after that. And really, that was all that mattered.
It was over.
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However, death has different plans for everyone.
How cruel, she thought as the cold returned. Everything had returned; the cold, the pain, the awfulness of it all.
Hands jostled her as she waited patiently for death. She was waiting for a time when the pain would stop, and she could be with her baby again, away from the cruelness of the world.
"We have to take her to Ashland," a voice said above her.
"Why take her all the way down there?" Another echoed.
"No ID on her. The state won't pay to bury the homeless….Ashland will at least cremate her when they get enough," the first answered.
Cremate me? Why would the cremate me? I'm not dead! She screamed in her mind. Panic washed through her body temporarily as she struggled to come to and show the men that had found her that she was alive still. She contemplated being burned alive and almost cried out at the thought of going through two awful things in one day – jumping off a cliff, and then being burned alive? Then, the pain began to come in waves, and she finally drifted on her sea of blackness.
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Cool hands. No, cold hands brushed against her forehead. Down her arms….to her wrists…over her hands….they were so cold.
She knew that touch…those hands…her mind struggled to fight against the bleakness that called to her. Something about those hands gave her hope, and comfort, and happiness.
Her mind briefly took her away from the agony, the chill of the room she was in now, and then shame of what she had just done to a better time in her life. A time when falling out of an old cherry tree and dealing with her grumpy father had been the most of her worries….
"So she'll be good to go in a few weeks, right doc?" Her father asked, his voice gruff and tired. A sixteen year old Esme smiled weakly at her father, and he averted his eyes to look at the young doctor that had mended her leg the day before.
Esme felt horrible for falling out of the tree. She hadn't been paying attention to anything except for the romance novel she had finally worked up the courage to check out from the library when she had fallen from one of the top branches of the old tree.
She wasn't' really sure which had been more humiliating; falling out of the tree after climbing them for years, or her father coming to help her and finding her with a smutty book not suited for someone twice her age. He had to pause his work for the day to take her into the hospital to have her leg mended, and a farmer losing a day's work was not a good thing. It was springtime and he was very busy. He looked tired to her as she watched him sign her hospital release papers.
"Yes, she should take it easy for the first week or so, keeping the leg propped up to reduce swelling," the young doctor replied, quickly tossing a playful wink at young Esme. She felt her cheeks start to flush as she looked at her lap, praying that her father hadn't seen the exchange.
He finished signing his name, handing the clipboard back to the doctor. "I'll let her get dressed," he said shortly, tipping his hat to the doctor briefly before exiting the room.
Esme exhaled quickly, her eyes darting up to look at Dr. Cullen. He smiled warmly at her, patting her arm with his cold hand.
She looked at him carefully, easily getting swept up in his unique golden eyes and kind smile. She felt herself start to blush and quickly looked down at her hands again.
"Thank you for…checking up on me last night," she said softly, reaching up to twirl a piece of her hair around her finger absently. "Did you work all night? I could have sworn I saw you at all times of the night."
He looked down quickly, his golden eyes then meeting her own light brown ones and smiled. "Yes, well…I work a lot you could say."
"Don't you have a family that misses you?" she asked with a light laugh. "I'm always sad when my pa works through dinner!"
He smiled at her, his pretty eyes growing sad for a second. "No, dear, I do not. I am not married, and I do not have children. I'm afraid I'm a bit of a workaholic," he admitted sheepishly. She grinned at him and his eyes seemed to dance at the attention.
"Oh, well..I'm sorry, I didn't' mean to pry," she said after a few seconds of awkward silence. Her heart thrummed wildly, and he looked over at her again and nodded.
"It's alright," he replied softly.
"Momma always says I can prattle on for hours about nothing, asking nosy questions and such…I don't mean to carry on like that, I just get nervous and talk a lot," she admitted with a smile.
The young doctor reached over and patted her small hand with his cool touch, her eyes darting up to meet his again. He pulled back, as if he didn't know he was going to do that.
"Your hand…" she said. "You're…so cold. Dr. Cullen, do you fell well yourself?" she asked with a sly smile.
He looked down at the floor before glancing up at her again. "I run cold," he said with a smile, wringing his hands behind his back. They shared one last shy smile before he excused himself to let her change back into her faded yellow dress that she had been brought to the hospital in.
Somehow, somewhere in the sea of agony the she was now riding on, Esme knew that cold, soft, knowing touch. There was no mistaking those hands.
They were strong, although she could sense that she was no feeling the extent of their strength. They were soft, almost like they were made of satin yet had the strength of polished steel. And their coolness….
She was being lifted. His hands had sensed her life, and she was being taken away. Somehow she knew that those cold hands would bring her the relief she so wanted. She trusted them without knowing the outcome, and she would never look back.
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It was cold as they flew. The steely hands had hastily wrapped her in a blanket, and now they were flying.
Hopefully this is the road to heaven….to Matthew…to the end of pain…to freedom, she thought.
How wrong she was…
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Soon, the sea of nothingness she floated on had gone from bleak and numb to horrid and taunting. Razors had ripped into her neck, but she would have taken the pain of that over and over again in comparison to the fire that now ripped through her broken limbs.
For she was truly broken; she knew this. Even though it was hard to see through the veil of agony that was now draped over her entire being, she could feel that parts of her were broken and smashed from her fall. She realized with even more sadness that she could no longer feel her legs.
Her limbs and bones cracked and crunched as the strange burning tore through her veins, igniting every cell, every fiber of her being.
Hot. Hot. Burning hot.
She was sure that she was on fire. A whimper escaped her lips, and the cool hand returned to stroke her tender cheek. Relief….
She drifted deeper. Each time she came to the surface, she expected for death to finally find her. But she was only met with more and more pain and suffering. She vaguely heard voices talking over her; nothing seemed to pacify her as the evil fire spread.
Why am I not dying? Where is my son? Why am I being tortured like this? She briefly thought. It was hard to work even her mind – every inch of her was being seared and singed to a black ash as she laid there, choking for air. It never seemed to end; she was sure that days had gone by since she had left the top of the cliff. She had only jumped from the top of the rock face to end her suffering – not prolong it.
When she thought that it was almost over, she was able to breathe a sigh of relief. The air swooshed out of her lungs, and her whole body began to relax as she could feel the pain being sucked out of her fingers, limbs, and torso.
Then the real torture began.
Her heart began to thrum wildly for minutes at a time before faltering at the ripping, burning fire that was moving through it, thundering through ever cell. It rang in her ears as it fought against the flames that now dwelled there, trying with its every last fiber to stay in control. It was failing.
Her mind fought and struggled to distract her as she laid there burning. It took her back to a cherry tree on a farm in Ohio…a tawdry romance novel…a doctor at the hospital, kindly setting her leg and sitting with her in the night, his angelic face showing genuine concern for her.
Oh, how she had longed and dreamed and secretly hoped to see that face again.
Perhaps I will meet him in heaven….the kind doctor would love my son, and we could live happily together, just the two of us and my girlhood crush…
Even through the fire, her mind and realistic side of her brain chided her for such a silly thought. She had a horrible, sinking feeling that heaven was not what awaited her at the end of this fiery walk.
Out of nowhere, a cool hand brushed her cheek softly, and she winced slightly at the slightest of pressure.
"Soon, darling, soon…it will all be over soon…" the angel whispered.
Oh! Sweet relief! Matthew…Matthew…. She tried her best to focus her thoughts as the fire wracked her heart, causing it to hammer rapidly.
My heart is going to explode from my chest…I can feel it, she thought sadly.
A miserable air settled over her as she realized that this was indeed the end. Even though she tried to hope and cling to the thought that Matthew was waiting for her in heaven, she soon came to the assumption that this was just the entrance to hell's gate. She was being punished.
When she thought that she could take no more, and was about to stutter for whoever was with her to kill her swiftly, her skin suddenly cooled. It felt like her body had been one big, gaping wound, and it had suddenly sealed itself, scabbed over, and healed in a millisecond.
It was over.
The breath left her chest quickly, and she inhaled another breath of the air in the small room.
Pine….vanilla….spice…some of the best aftershave I've ever smelled… she thought to herself. There were undertones of other things in the room as well…old wood…cotton…cashmere….leather…….
She frowned, licking her parched lips. Instantly, she was aware of the fire that burned in the back of her throat, tickling at first, then raging by the time she had finished the thought.
"Esme?" a timid yet familiar voice asked. Her eyes opened, and she turned her head to the side quickly, the feathers in the pillow beneath her head shifting and ruffling.
Heaven.
"Dr Cullen?" she asked, frowning again slightly. She sat up quickly, clamping her hand over her mouth that had just emitted that angelic voice.
I sound like an angel! Was that really my voice? Dr. Cullen is here? What is he…this really must be heaven… she thought to herself, very confused. This was all very…strange.
He stared at her with the same, strange yellow eyes he had had back when she was a girl. She must be in heaven. Nothing about the handsome, unearthly looking doctor had changed one bit.
"You…you remember who I am?" he asked, smooth, masculine voice ringing in her ears.
How is it possible that he has not aged…does my mind deceive me? Has he instead grown even more handsome? That was a decade ago, and time seems to have favored him…how…how odd…odd but wonderful.
And yet there he was. The angelic, magnificent, and kind young doctor from Ohio. The source of every one of her girlhood fantasies, the man she had compared all men to. He was here? Surely, this must be heaven. If this man is in heaven…then I must have done something right.
Looking around, she saw that she was tucked securely in a large, feather mattress in a room upstairs of what looked like a farmhouse. The wooden walls were bare of any decoration, and early morning light shone through the small window in the corner. The doctor sat in the chair next to the bed, and she felt her chest tighten in embarrassment as she looked down at her torn, tattered dress.
She heard a snicker coming from the corner of the room, and her head darted to look at it. Immediately she met eyes with another young man and an involuntary hiss escaped her lips.
"Oh!" she trilled, clamping her hand over her mouth. Her eyes widened again and she pulled the smooth, pale white hand back to look at it closely. That wasn't…her hand, was it?
"Yes, it is," the other man in the corner answered her thought. She didn't' notice though. She was too busy looking at the perfectly sculpted, flawless hand in front of her face. Her eyes could suddenly see every detail about her hand and her new set of pretty nails that didn't look a thing like her old self. Her old hands were home to scars of scrapes and scratches from climbing trees and playing with kittens; her nails were always broken or chipped from working around the house or on the farm. No, this certainly wasn't her hand.
Something was strange…but she wasn't sure she minded.
"It's your hand," the young man said again. She looked up at him, then over at Dr. Cullen again, smiling dreamily.
"Are you angels?" she asked finally, setting her hand back down. She looked at them expectantly. "I….I didn't expect to burn like that before getting here, I just…." She trailed off as she listened to her own voice. It sounded like…singing. Like bells…like a wind chime….
"Where is my baby?" she asked, looking around the room expectantly for Matthew. The young doctor turned and looked awkwardly at the young man in the corner of the room, who shook his head.
"Carlisle…" he said, almost in a warning tone. He gave the doctor a disapproving stare.
Dr. Cullen cleared his throat awkwardly, turning his attention back to Esme, who still sat up straight in the bed.
"Esme, how do you feel?" he asked gently.
She felt like she should be blushing under his handsome gaze, but the familiar heat of blood rushing up to her cheeks never came.
"Um…well, different," she said. "But isn't that expected?" she asked, looking at the two of them.
I didn't really expect to feel like my old self once I reached heaven, so I suppose this makes sense. Everything looks better, smells better…
Dr. Cullen lowered his gaze and looked over at the young boy, who sat in the corner armchair in the corner watching them with amusement. Esme turned her head slightly, her hair whipping as her face snapped over to look at him. Her hand rose to her face in shock, and her fingers began to feel at the smooth plains of her face.
Even turning my head is easier! This is really something…
"Esme," the doctor began again cautiously. "Do you really remember me?"
She really felt like her face should be blushing furiously by now as the doctor's familiar yet strange golden eyes watched her with growing curiosity.
She nodded. "I do. You're the doctor who fixed my leg back in Ohio when I was a girl," she admitted sheepishly. He smiled at her warmly, and she returned the smile.
So she was in heaven.
"Not quite," the young boy mumbled.
Esme's head snapped back to look at him. He was young looking, maybe seventeen or eighteen. His coppery brown hair was completely disheveled, hanging in a strange way above his head, the ends sticking up. It wasn't a bad look for him, she admitted to herself. He wears it well. His expressive golden eyes and sculpted cheekbones allowed him to get away with that particular coif.
He smiled and nodded politely at her, as if to thank her for her internally thought compliment. She frowned again, then looked back at Dr. Cullen.
"Am I…dead? Are we really in heaven?" she asked timidly, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Carlisle looked at her kindly, wringing his hands together as he fidgeted. Esme looked at him quietly, admiring how her new strange eyesight really allowed her to look at the doctor. Her new vision made the planes of his face light up and almost glow in the morning light that was pouring through a small window in the corner.
"Carlisle…" the young man said again quietly, as if to remind him of something. The doctor sprang up from the chair besides the bed and an inhuman speed, sending a shocked Esme darting from the bed to cower on the opposite side of the room.
"Esme, it's alright," the doctor said calmly. "My name is Carlisle, and this is my son, Edward. We don't wish to hurt you," he said.
Esme straightened from her stance, pulling at her clothes. "I…I know that," she said, her voice shaking slightly.
Why do I feel so jumpy? Almost like…like I'm defensive. The doctor would never let anyone hurt me.
She looked at the floor, frowning again when she realized she could see every grain in the wood, every spec of dirt between the planks, and even the bits of dust floating through the air.
Something wasn't right. Why could she see everything in detail? Why would I need to see everything so clearly in heaven? And what is this horrid burning in my throat?!
Panicked thoughts began to rise in her chest as she realized that she had made the incorrect assumption that she had died and gone to heaven. Something didn't fit…something wasn't right….
She glanced at the bed, then the corner where she now stood. How had she gotten over there so fast? Her hand went to cup her throat, which she now remembered was still burning fiercely.
"What…what's wrong with me…what…" her mind went back to the burning that she had suffered for…days? Hours? How long had that been?
"What have you done to me?" she asked. "Am I dead? Am I in heaven?" she asked quickly, her voice moving faster than she thought possible.
The doctor paused, looking over at Edward questioningly, and the boy nodded. She was confused by the somehow silent exchange they shared, and she huffed in frustration, drawing their attention back to her.
"Esme," the doctor began. "You aren't in heaven," he said sadly, still wringing his hands together. She looked at him sadly, her eyes feeling the familiar sting of oncoming tears.
She wiped at her eyes, shocked to see that no liquid had pooled there. Lowering her hand awkwardly, she grabbed at her tattered dress, nervously pinching and releasing that material.
"You…you were brought to the hospital where I work as a doctor."
"You're still a doctor?" she breathed, looking up at his kind eyes. His face showed such concern and kindness that she felt her breath get sucked up into her throat. Still, her mind kept persistently telling her that something wasn't' right about what was going on.
"Yes, Esme, I am still a doctor. Do you remember the last thing you did?" he asked quietly. The young boy in the corner pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, as if he was upset. She quickly turned her attention back to the doctor.
"N-no..I…"
The snow crunched over her feet, the cold Wisconsin wind whipped at her already numb face, stinging where her tears had slid down her cheeks. "Matthew," she cried into the darkness. Then she stepped over the edge.
She gasped as the memory came back to her, fuzzy as it was. "I…I jumped," she said slowly, her eyes glazing over to recall the thought. Her hand went to her cheek, where she waited for the tears to fall again. They didn't.
"I…I jumped off the cliff," she stuttered, looking up at the doctor. "I killed myself," she added sadly. She was instantly blanketed with a feeling of immense shame as the two men looked at her.
"Esme," he began gently, moving towards her slowly. "I know you're hurting right now, but I need to explain something," he said. "You were brought to the hospital where I worked, and the men that found you presumed you dead…and homeless."
She looked up at him, then down at her tattered dress and bare feet, suddenly aware that she did indeed look homeless.
"Please let me explain," he continued. "They were going to cremate your body the next day, and they took you to the morgue. I was working when they brought you in, and I could hear your heart still beating-"
"So I am alive?" she interjected. Her eyes fell down to her perfectly sculpted arms and legs, and suddenly something didn't make sense. If she had fallen from the cliff, why was she not…broken?
"In a sense, yes…Esme, why did you think you were in heaven?"
She looked at him, their eyes locking and her breathing speeding up. She realized that her heart should be pounding in her chest at the idea of the thought of being under the handsome doctor's gaze, but she could feel nothing vibrating in her chest.
"I…what…what did you do to me?" she asked, suddenly very aware that her body was not behaving as her body anymore…it felt so foreign…foreign but delightful. She battled with herself to maintain control and stay calm. Her body obeyed but her mind did not.
"Tell her," the young man, Edward, she noted, said gruffly from the corner where he still sat.
Carlisle cleared his throat and continued to wring his hands nervously as he carefully phrased his next words.
"Esme, I heard you heart beating and I checked, you were clearly still alive, although just barely. I remembered you from Ohio, you are correct about that," he said. "I'm afraid that…against my better judgment, I could not let you die."
"Die? I'm…I'm so confused…am I dead or not?"
"Esme, I stole you out of the hospital and brought you here to my home and…and I changed you into what Edward and I are. Please do not be afraid, like I said, we do not wish to harm you in any way," he added quickly. Her eyes dropped again to her pale white arms and legs, and her new heightened senses jumped to the front of her mind.
"Am I an angel now too?" she asked quietly, still very confused.
"No…no, I am afraid that that is not what we are," he said slowly. "Esme, keep in mind, Edward and I are not typical-"
"What have you done to me?" she asked, raising her voice slightly. Her hand cupped her burning throat again as she backed further into the corner.
"I have changed you into a vampire."
x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x
After her initial shock of the word 'vampire' had worn off, Carlisle and Edward had assured her that they were not the pictures of monsters and demons that popped into her head. Esme had been positively horrified at the idea of being a vampire, and simply refused to believe that the beautiful creatures in front of her were neither living nor dead creatures of the damned.
"I don't believe you," she said simply, her bottom lip quivering as she walked back over to the bed. "I'm not a vampire, vampires don't exist! That's so silly ..I…it can't be."
"Esme, I am not lying to you. Look at me. What looks different about me from when you were a girl in Ohio?"
She furrowed her eyebrows, looking the young doctor up and down, secretly delighted to have an excuse to look unabashedly at the young man. Her new eyes met his before dropping from his eyes
"I…I…n-nothing," she finally admitted, crossing her arms gracefully. Edward finally stepped forward.
"Esme, do you feel the burn in your throat?" he asked. "That is the desire to feed, or drink, rather," he added with a wry grin. Her hand went back up to the smooth plains of her neck to grasp at the throbbing part of her body. It absolutely ached.
"That means you need to feed, so please listen to Carlisle. I assure you that we are not the monsters you have pictured in your head," he said with a chuckle. He stepped closer to her and offered his hand. She looked down at it, startled at the gesture…it felt so foreign and strange that he would shake hands with her…
With a shrug she took it, grasping it lightly and moving it. Edward winced and recoiled slightly, making her eyes widen.
"What's the matter?" she asked quickly, dropping his hand.
Carlisle smiled and walked over to her, placing a tentative smile on her shoulder. "Esme, a newborn vampire is the strongest type of vampire," he gently explained. "The human blood from your old body is still giving you much strength."
She looked around the room suddenly, shocked. My old body? Am I in a new body? Where has it gone?! She panicked.
Edward laughed again and walked closer to her, his hands out in a peace signal. "Esme, you are a vampire. We are not monsters, and your body is the same body, just…enhanced slightly. Don't attack me, alright?" Edward asked, putting his hands lightly on her shoulders. She nodded, jumping slightly at the feeling of his hands placed calmly on her body. He turned her gently, and she was facing a wooden dresser and a matching mirror that was beside the bed.
A demon's red, glowing eyes stared back at her, and she whirled around, away from the awful sight of it. She buried her face in Edward's shirt, sobs creeping their way up to her mouth from her aching chest and throat.
"What…w-what was that?" she whispered, lifting her head to peek back over her shoulder. She faintly heard the doctor move forward, closer to the two of them. Edward shot him a warning look, and he stopped suddenly before putting a hand on Esme.
"I..Is that me?" she choked, mustering the courage to look again. The red eyes glittered at her again, and she turned around quickly to rid herself of the haunting image in the mirror.
That can't be me..This can't be my body…I'm hideous! Her mind yelped.
Edward carefully unwound Esme's strong arms from his frame, wincing slightly at her strength. "Esme, I can assure you, this is indeed your body. You are not hideous…the venom Carlisle used to change you into one of us just…made some improvements. You are still very much yourself," he said gently. She tried to relax and listen to his obvious attempts to pacify her, and shamefully dropped her arms from the young boy.
He turned her around again, his strong hands holding her steady as she began to take in the image staring back at her.
Never had a creature looked more unlike her than this one did.
She was still slender, but slightly shapely in the middle, her hips and bosom adequately sized in comparison to her waist. Her lean, elegant neck held one of the most beautiful faces she had ever seen. It was heart shaped and graceful, with plump pink lips and cheeks that were just full enough to look charming and not pudgy. Her eyebrows were perfectly arched and sculpted, and they sat above the glittering red eyes that were framed with the longest, fullest eyelashes she had ever seen. The ends of the thick lashes swept out at the corners of her eyes, giving her a sultry yet appealing look. Her hair lay in thick, pretty brown curls that fell just below her shoulders. The light in the room caught it just right, showing the caramel and dark blonde tints that ran through it, the lightest shades framing her flawless, smooth little face.
"Who…who is she?" Esme asked, reaching up to touch the sides of her cheeks.
Carlisle and Edward laughed gently, looking at each other in some sort of private, internal debate.
"Why are you laughing at me?" she said, her voice going up several octaves. She turned to lean on the dresser, cowering away from the two men that shared the room with her. Gripping the dresser caused it to splinter off and break a piece of wood in each of her hands, making her nearly jump out of her skin.
"Oh!" she gasped, dropping the wooden shards to the floor in shock.
"It's alright, Esme, you are very strong," Carlisle said quickly. "And…you..You look beautiful. The venom from my bite just took what features you had and made them more…attractive," the doctor stuttered out shyly. Edward tossed him a pained, annoyed look, and Carlisle took a step back, wringing his hands together again. He opened his mouth to speak again, and thought better of it. He looked at Edward, who looked surprised before explaining things further.
"Esme, then venom changed you so that you can attract…your prey."
"Prey? You make me sound like a wild bobcat!" she said sadly. "I just want something to drink so that my throat stops burning!"
"Yes, well…we need to go hunt," Edward said simply.
"Hunt? I just need a glass of water, maybe some tonic.." she said, shaking her head. She grasped her throat again, carefully sidestepping away from the dresser.
"Oh, Esme…" Edward said, shaking his head. He looked sheepishly over at Carlisle, who dropped his eyes and began to look anywhere in the room but at Esme and Edward.
Edward looked at the young doctor again, rolled his yellow eyes, and muttered, "Fantastic," under his breath.
x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x
"I hope you're happy," Edward muttered, traipsing through the muddy underbrush of the Ashland forest.
Carlisle glared at him flatly, and Esme sniffed her tearless sobs back as she trailed behind them. She was sated for now, but traumatized in general.
Carlisle paused, turning to look at the tiny woman as she unknowingly avoided little saplings and frozen plants, unaware that she could walk right through them with ease. She pulled at the shreds of her now even more tattered dress, attempting to cover herself in front of the two men.
I've never been humiliated in my entire life.
"Esme, it's alright dear. You surely at venison as a girl on a farm, did you not?" Carlisle said softly.
Esme stopped in her tracks, looking at him with a still-quivering lip. "Y-yes," she said slowly.
But that doesn't make the act I just committed any better, she thought. She had been horrified and repulsed when Edward explained to her what she would have to do to quench the burning in her throat. She had run down to the kitchen and drunk several glasses of the foul tasting water quickly, only to then run outside and wretch them up in front of the handsome doctor and his son.
It had been the most mortifying experience of her life to throw up in front of the doctor.
She had cursed them both the entire time in her head for standing on the porch to watch out of concern when she really just wanted to be alone to vomit up the awful tasting water. It was strange to her to get so angry that she actually let the foul words slip from her mouth, but her temper was raging in his chest the entire time. It was like feeling every unpleasant emotion all at once.
She had cried and begged when they insisted on taking her hunting to help the burning, but the pain had won out eventually and she had followed them into the woods. It was bad enough that she had a torn up, stained little dress on, but then she had learned of Edward's gift.
This is awful! This cannot be true…I refuse to think that these..these ruffians are going to make me hunt an innocent animal!
"You know, you can call me whatever you like, you're still going to have to hunt eventually," he had slipped.
Esme had been nothing short of horrified to learn that a man she barely knew could pry into the deepest corners of her mind. Carlisle had assured her that Edward would not embarrass her, and would try to stay out of her thoughts.
Oh no! This is awful…first I have to live with the subject of every girlhood fantasy and silly thought and his mind-reading son….
Her eyes had widened immediately when Edward's glance caught hers, but the young man had said nothing.
She had been confused the entire time that they had been walking through the cloudy Wisconsin forest. When Edward had encouraged her to run, she had felt silly but tried anyway. Her legs had picked up speed so fast that it simply terrified her, and nothing they could say would make her want to try it again. The way the trees came so quickly and menacingly as she ran had scared her half to death. Even though both Edward and Carlisle had assured her that she would do far more damage to the trees than they ever would her, she still refused to try it again.
She did not miss the chagrined looks the two of them exchanged after she refused to run.
"It will only make this process slower," Edward had reminded her. She had bit her lip and looked upon the young boy stubbornly.
That was terrifying! No!
Esme's first attempt at hunting had not gone well at all, period. She was afraid to run, terrified to hunt any carnivores, and horrified at the idea of hunting defenseless things like deer and elk. Eventually her burning thirst had made her give in, and she had effortlessly brought the young doe down and sunk her teeth into it.
Esme had drained half of the deer but was distracted by the poor animal's bleats for help and kicking legs as it was drained. Dropping it with a scream, the half-dead animal had stumbled around the clearing, blood spurting from its neck. A beyond repulsed Esme had begun sobbing and howling for someone to do something until Carlisle had run over to her to snap the animal's neck quickly.
This had only ignited a new set of tearless sobs and wails from an already frazzled woman. Carlisle had handed it to her to finish, quite confused about what he had done to upset her.
They had finally convinced her to feed some more, Edward and Carlisle catching several more deer and killing them for her this time. Esme had sniffed back her tears and let her instincts take over, filling herself with the bland animal blood.
They were now walking home, much to Edward's chagrin. He walked first, casting annoyed glances back to the Carlisle, who was hanging back to walk with a sulking Esme.
"I only wanted to end its suffering," Carlisle said softly to her. She sniffed again and wiped her cheeks out of habit, pulling back her dry hand to look at strangely.
"It's…o-okay," she said. "I understand." She attempted to straighten her rumpled, bloodied dress to no avail.
Carlisle looked down at her, obviously upset that his newest family member was having so much trouble.
"While you were changing I took the liberty of ordering some dresses and…other things for you from the Montgomery Ward catalog," Carlisle said. "Edward and I had a horrible time deciding what to get for you, I hope our tastes are not terribly out of fashion," he added with a laugh.
She looked up at him, offering a faint smile. "Thank you," she mumbled, embarrassed to no end. Not only was her girlhood crush the man she had to now live with, but he had also gone through the trouble of ordering clothes for her. However, one look down at the tattered and bloodied mess of a garment she was currently wearing made her stifle any complaints.
"Is something wrong?" he asked. "If you don't like them, I can always get you something else. I just know from my own experience buying clothes for Edward and myself that the shops in Ashland aren't known for their…variety."
"No no, that's fine…I…I've never had a store bought dress, I can make my own clothes," she offered meekly.
Carlisle's lips turned upwards slightly at her admission, and he slowly reached over to pat her shoulder.
"I'm happy to be able to give you your first then."
"I don't want to be a burden…" she began. "I don't have much money left on me, but…." She trailed off, thinking back to wonder what money she did have. Her mind went back…. a fuzzy picture of a cold night, her dropping her bag and stepping out of her shoes to walk across the cold ground to the cliff's edge…She winced as the memory came back to her.
"I…I don't have any money," she finally concluded, stopping in her tracks. Shame washed over her as more and more details about her last human night came over her.
Carlisle turned, ignoring his son who was still stomping towards the house. "Esme, please do not worry. It was no trouble at all to purchase you the necessities. I ordered you some dresses, some shoes, and some..stockings and…er, some under…under g-garments," the doctor awkwardly admitted. His beautiful golden eyes fell to the forest floor, and Esme bit her lip.
She wasn't sure what horrified her more; being a newborn vampire, or the doctor of her fantasies ordering her undergarments.
They had slowly approached the old farmhouse, and Edward had already gone inside by the time they made it to the front yard, the mist still rising from the ground in the mid morning light. Esme tried to control her emotions, but her mind had already gotten the best of her and taken her back to a blurry image of holding a small baby boy in a blue blanket.
She stopped in the middle of the yard, suddenly paralyzed with the memory of her deceased baby boy.
Carlisle turned to look at her, his face clearly confused. "Do you…not want the dresses?" he asked dimly.
Esme let another sob emit from her chest, her eyes squeezed shut in agony at the thoughts racing through her newer, sharper mind. It replayed over and over the already blurry memories of her newborn baby and their first few hours together. She could remember them telling her he was dead, and signing the papers to have him buried in the chapel's graveyard. She could remember them handing her his little socks and cap, the light blue color burned into her mind.
Carlisle raced over to catch her before she fell to the muddy ground on her knees, his strong arms easily preventing her from lowering herself. He grasped her arms tightly, his golden eyes full of concern for the lovely woman as she cried.
"M-my baby," she sobbed, her crimson eyes blinking slowly as she tortured herself with images of her lost son.
"Oh, Esme. Forgive me for not talking to you about this sooner," he said, his own dead heart breaking for hers.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she was temporarily distracted from her pain from the doctor's embrace. His inviting, masculine scent was so appealing to her that she had a hard time keeping her thoughts straight as he held her tightly while she cried. The irony of it all was staggering; now that she was finally in the company of the handsome young doctor from her daydreams, but she was trapped in a life or immortality as a monster…and without her son.
x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x
"You did much better today," Carlisle said, settling into the sofa beside her. Esme looked up from her book, smiling weakly at the doctor's attempt at conversation.
She was beyond mortified and did not feel like talking much. Edward was in town for the afternoon, buying a few things for her, and that act alone had embarrassed her. Living with two men for the past few weeks had been a completely mortifying experience all in its own. She was so shamed to be living with two unmarried men in general; just the thought would have made appalled her mother to no end. Esme raised her hand to her face to feel the burn of her blush at the thought, but was once again relieved to remember that she would never blush again.
Carlisle opened his briefcase and began flipping through some paperwork from the hospital, glancing over at her periodically. Esme's eyes flicked back up to the clock on the wall; Edward wouldn't be home for several more hours. She didn't mind being alone with Carlisle; he was good company for the most part, but she still felt as though she shouldn't be alone with the man she had daydreamed about many times as a young girl. It felt scandalous enough to be living under the same roof.
The two had insisted she didn't have the proper ladies' items to use, and she had insisted she was fine. However, once glance at the cabinets in the bathroom had convinced her otherwise. The two men used one bar of soap, period. After Edward had seen her internal horror, he had prodded her to change her mind. She had sheepishly relented, asking for several much-needed items from the general store in town, such as shampoo, some bath oil, and some talc powder.
Esme sighed, turning the page in her novel, trying to calm herself enough to focus. As much as she hated to cause trouble and ask for things, Edward had pointed out that she needn't suffer in silence while she lived there. Both of them bad assured her (Edward much more than Carlisle) that they had plenty of money and a few frivolous items for her comfort wouldn't exactly make a dent in their income.
"I just don't want to spend money…I feel silly for even thinking about needing anything extra," she had finally admitted to Edward.
He had laughed, clearly amused by her concern. "Esme, you must understand. Think about how much money we save by being vampires. We don't buy food, we don't buy livestock, we never need medical attention, and we rarely buy new clothes. The only things we spend money on are books and the car," he admitted. "Carlisle has been a doctor for centuries, and before I was around he spent even less money than he does now."
Even after being reassured, Esme still felt like a burden with the young doctor and his adopted son.
"Edward should be home soon," he said suddenly, seeing her looking at the clock.
Esme looked over at him, and was surprised to see that the doctor's expression was somewhat…sad?
"Yes?" she asked, shrugging slightly. An emotion she didn't recognize crossed over his face, and she gave him a concerned look. The doctor had been so kind to her in her first few weeks as a vampire, and she was eternally grateful for his patience and graciousness.
"Carlisle?" she asked when he didn't respond. He looked at her, offering her a tight smile and shifted nervously on the couch.
"I…I. um….I suppose you are looking forward to his return," he said.
"Well, I…suppose. I feel silly that he's bringing me things from the store, but…" she trailed off, still confused.
Carlisle cleared his throat, staring ahead out the living room windows. The fire in the fireplace popped, startling them both slightly. If she had a heart, it would have been pounding by now as she watched the young doctor struggle with something. He offered her another tight smile and looked back down at his book.
This was not the first time they had had a confusing exchange like this. Several times she had caught the doctor hanging around when she spent time with his son. Truthfully, she felt awkward and ashamed at her girlhood crush that she still harbored for the doctor, and felt strange spending time alone with him.
Edward, however awkward his company might have been due to his gift, posed less of a threat. Esme had gotten to know the young boy very well over the past few weeks, and was relieved for his friendship while Carlisle was away at work. Edward had picked up books for her from the library, barely wincing as she requested some rather 'girlish' books as he had called them, and had even begun to teach her piano. Edward was able to hear her lusty, embarrassing thoughts about his father, and had graciously said nothing to the doctor. He also knew that she was terribly lonely and bored being trapped in their home all day, and had made an effort to entertain her. They were becoming friends.
Carlisle was different. He usually tried to make polite conversation with her when he returned from work, but the young doctor was slightly socially backwards when it came to women, or so Esme had guessed. Her heart went out to the sweet man as he fumbled around his words, trying to figure out what to ask her about her day that was spent being politely bored around his home. He also appeared more and more glum when he would return home from work each day to find Esme bonding with his son. She didn't need Edward's mind reading gift to know that he was envious of their time spent together. The more she thought about it, the more confused she was.
Does Carlisle think I have feelings for Edward? That's so ridiculous I feel silly even thinking it, but still…
Esme sighed, flipping the un-read page in her novel. Trying to concentrate was no use when Carlisle was sitting beside her. She continued to pretend to read, sheepishly ignoring the doctor's sideways glances. Instead, she busied herself by replacing the male character in one of the few romance novels she could remember reading as a human with Carlisle's handsome face.
x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x
A week later, she was in the living room with Edward, and he was trying to teach her a simple chord progression on the piano. Her sharp vampire mind could easily recall what he had taught her, but she was still having trouble concentrating on the subject at hand. Her eyes kept darting up to look at the clock on the wall, silently subtracting the minutes until Carlisle's return.
"You know, he won't be home for another three hours. You'll still have time to wash your hair first, Esme," Edward said, a wry smile dancing on his lips. He began to plunk a little tune out on the keys, not bothering to make eye contact with her. She shoved him playfully, careful to only use a fraction of her strength.
"Edward," she chided, silently thanking the lord that she could no longer blush.
"Yes, but every time you think that I know that you're blushing on the inside!" he shot back at her. She rolled her ocher eyes at him, shaking off his jibes with a grin.
He barely talks to me….he always seems so nervous around me… she thought sadly, more to herself than to Edward.
Edward coughed awkwardly, grinning sideways at her. She looked at him inquisitively, shifting on the piano bench. "What?" she asked.
Edward guffawed loudly, jumping up from the bench. "Are you really that dim Esme Platt?" he asked, his golden eyes full of mischief. "Do you really not understand? Please tell me you're joking and your mind deceives me," he laughed, his velvety voice playful.
"What do you mean?" she asked, turning even further on the bench to stare wide eyed at him. She giggled nervously, ashamed at her silly behavior. Edward was taunting her.
"Edward Cullen!" she snapped indignantly.
Edward's face grew more serious. "Esme, you can't really not know. Carlisle…he…he has never been around a woman. But…he changed you for a reason…and…I…I can't divulge why exactly, but-"
"Edward, please!" she interjected, her eyes pleading with him. He sighed, trying to decide something as he looked at her.
"Esme…Carlisle is a man who has been alone for centuries. He remembered you from Ohio…and…he changed you in hopes that….well…Esme you cannot be so dim as to expect him to want to be alone forever, can you?"
"I…I suppose not. So…he changed me for…himself?" she asked slowly.
Edward sighed, sitting back down at the bench. "Don't get me wrong, Esme, if you did not wish to….return his feelings, Carlisle would still welcome you to the family with open arms. However…I'm not sure how much of this ridiculousness I can take. I have seen your feelings for him, and his for you…and I fear that I will go crazy if I have to live through much more of these silly games you two insist on playing with each other."
Esme had looked at him, her mouth hanging open. It was suddenly so clear.
"Carlisle…changed me….for…."
"Yes Esme…he changed you in hopes that you would be his mate," Edward finally admitted.
x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x
Later that week, Edward had given Esme a pointed look when he had excused himself to go for a run before the sun came up. Carlisle witnessed their silent exchange, and had instantly grown uncomfortable as Edward darted into the pre-dawn light.
Esme sat in her usual spot on the sofa, Carlisle in a chair beside the fireplace. He usually read, but today she was surprised to see him simply sit and stare into the fire.
"No book today?" she asked quietly. He looked over at her with a weak smile, shaking his head 'no'.
"No, not today…I had a long night at the hospital, I suppose I just need a few minutes to de-stress," he admitted to her.
Esme paused, trying to gather her courage. She blinked her ginger colored eyes and bit her lip as she attempted to work up the words to her question. She was surprised when he spoke first.
"You didn't wish to join Edward on his run?" he asked quietly, not looking up from the fire. She caught herself smiling demurely, ashamed that she had ever been so confused over Carlisle's envy of her relationship with Edward.
"Yes, well…I felt he should have some time away from the adults," she said quietly, her eyes drifting down to her lap. "He must get tired of being the only teenager here."
Carlisle looked up at her, somewhat surprised. Esme continued.
"I'm glad that you have also changed Edward. I have always wanted a younger brother," she said finally, her eyes meeting his. Carlisle's smile began faintly, then grew over his entire face.
"Brother?" he asked slowly.
Esme smiled, her eyes falling back to the book in her lap. "Yes…brother."
Carlisle grinned at her, his prior shame gone from his face at her admission of her relationship with Edward.
The serious tone had just lifted from the room when the sound of tires hitting the gravel drive up to the house distracted them both. Esme immediately clamped her mouth shut, her hand flying up to cover her nose. Carlisle, still caught up in the moment, paused slightly before realizing what was happening.
Human.
Esme whimpered audibly as she fought to ignore the fire that had ignited in her throat as the human driver came closer and closer to the house.
Oh my god…that heart…that beating heart….Blood….human blood… her mind chanted at her.
Before Carlisle could even think to stand, the small newborn vampire had flashed from the room, leaving the book fluttering in her wake as she darted into the night.
As if on cue, Edward came racing in through the back door, his hair wildly disheveled and his golden eyes full of fear and concern.
"Esme's dresses that we ordered came in early from Madison…the postman is bringing them out to us," Edward said quickly, reading the mental tone of the approaching driver. His eyes searched the room wildly.
"Esme?"
Carlisle raced to the door, Edward behind him, both frozen in terror as the realization of what was about to happen hit them. Her newborn inability to silence her nature and senses had rendered poor Esme helpless. Her strong legs made her no match for even Edward, who was the fastest vampire Carlisle had ever seen. There would be no time to catch her.
Esme was going to kill a human.
x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x
There you have it! I hope you enjoyed Esme. Like I said, her tale is a sad one, but she does eventually get her happy ending. Stephenie Meyer doesn't ever really talk about Esme's control as a newborn; she mentions Carlisle, Rosalie, Emmett, etc…but never Esme. I just assume that that means she had a few accidents, especially at the start of her new life.
If you enjoyed Esme, remember to review and cast your 'vote' if you would like her story to have a second part. Remember: I'm only going to give additional parts to the characters that get the most feedback.
Please Review!