Early the next day.
The morning sun ascended gracefully into the infinite blue sky, the golden ball gently bouncing its way past pompous clouds as it frolicked its way into view. It's warm rays greeted the earth with such vitality that every single living organism was riddled with life as the wistful wind wipes away the sleep from their nubile bodies.
The day was excruciatingly beautiful as the light mirrored the fresh dew that was dripping off of the grass as the trees billowed ever so slightly at a passing breeze.
The wide and open plains surrounding her home was filled with light and life; the siren call of the woods which once spoke to her as a child now silently beckoning her outside to join them, asking her to grace them with her gentle presence once more.
The front porch which she sat every so often on her rocking chair in an afternoon's delight now lay empty, with a few leaves carelessly strewn across the seat due to her absence.
The grass untouched by the soft soles of her feet when she used to wander ever so softly with a book in her hand as she sauntered into the woods, without even a second thought or care.
The beautiful wonderland was now an empty vessel without her.
Her soft laughter no longer echoed in the wind. Her soft hands no longer tracing the rough and callous skin of the ancient trees.
The scent of her hair no longer intertwined with the gentle summer breeze.
Amidst all the beauty and loveliness that awaited her outside, Esme was living in a completely different world altogether.
A new war was emerging from the dark confines of her home.
There was no escape from the terror that was about to unfold within the next few hours.
The prelude to its arrival was so thick; you could almost taste it in the air.
She could not escape its clutches. She was trapped within the confines of the cold walls. Like the bright sun, trapped behind the dark embrace of storm clouds.
The once beautiful house in which she tenderly cared for was now holding her captive.
The bland concrete preventing the rays of the sun to comfort her in her time of sadness. Stopping it's warmth from entering the cold and dark recesses of her prison.
Her morning started out with Charles's voice calling her from the downstairs living room, his hoarse voice feigning sweetness as it boomed all the way into the bedroom.
She shifted tensely underneath the sheets, her eyes snapping open; her heart beating wildly in her chest at the sound of his voice. She squinted her eyes as the light from the window filled the room.
She slowly made a move to get up. Her body was sore all over, but what hurt the most was the crown of her head. She gently ran a hand through it, hoping against hope it would ease the throbbing. She slightly winced and shuddered as the memories of the events last night regurgitated into her mind with futile clarity.
She slowly slid off the bed, her bare feet touching the cold wooden floor as she made her way out of the bedroom, bitter trepidation coursing in her veins at the hidden events that lay ahead.
She made her way quietly down the stairs and through the foyer, dressed in nothing but her simple white night gown. Her wavy caramel hair billowing gently at her stride.
Esme took a breath as she entered the living room.
Charles was standing next to the lighted fireplace. He was holding some sort of book in his hand.
Instantly, her mind was shifting into high gear with cold fear.
Why was the fireplace lighted this early in the morning?
She was terrified of the answer.
"Ah, there you are my dear." Charles said jovially as he gently ushered her into the room.
He took a large throw pillow and placed it in the middle of the embroidered carpet, facing the fireplace as he motioned for her to sit. Charles stood above her, making her feel infintesimal and defenseless.
She sat there anxiously, feeling as if she were atop a scaffold.
Her merciless executioner deciding wether he would chop off her head or hang her.
He could have easily made her sit on the couch.
Esme could feel the tension rise in her stomach as she steadied herself and tried to stay calm.
But it was impossible to avoid the questions that were in her mind.
What did he want?
Why am I here?
And the most feared question she dare not ask herself. What will he do with me?
She focused her gaze on the fire as it flickered with warmth. Its orange light dancing sporadically as it reflected into her eyes.
She got lost in her thoughts for a few moments before she heard Charles chuckle in the background.
He moved into her view as she looked at him warily. Her heart dropped to her stomach when she saw what he was holding at a more acute angle.
Esme licked her lips nervously.
No, no, no.
Please God.
She was fighting panic as it attempted her to lose control completely.
Esme took another breath and composed herself.
Charles's laughter echoed into the room.
"Oh my dear wife. You really are quite the hopeless romantic. Aren't you?" He said with a cruel smile.
Esme watched him as he turned a page.
He snapped the book close as he finished devouring its contents. He walked towards her, his eyes digging into hers.
"No woman can make a fool out of me dear." He said as a painful slap found it's way into her face, her head turning at the force as he repeated his actions a 2nd time.
Warm tears began forming in her eyes as she blinked them away. She turned to look at him as her mouth parted.
Charles raised his finger at her.
"Tsk. tsk. Remember what I said about how rude it is for a wife to interrupt her husband." He said in a daunting tone.
She snapped her mouth shut, as she looked up at him expectantly. Fear, making her weak and trapped in her own body.
He proceeded towards the burning fireplace as he crouched low next to it. A large grin on his face.
Somehow she knew what was going to happen next.
"Since we are married my dear Esme. You're going to have to forget about this pathetic little fantasy of yours. You can change the dates on this diary to decieve me but it will never work." His voice, low and menacing.
"Sweetheart, please you-" She pleaded as her voice broke.
"Be quiet!" He screamed at her as he ripped a random page and threw it into the fire.
Esme watched as the fragile paper writhed and crinkled in the fire. The memories with it, turning into black ashes of dust.
"I'm going to ask you once more. Are you having an affair with this man?" He asked daggers in his eyes as he looked at her.
Esme shook her head helplessly as she bit her lip. Tears flowing down her cheeks as she watched him burn another page.
"Why do you lie to me? Don't I give you everything? I've been a good husband haven't I? I teach you and I guide you and this is what you give me?" He yelled as he began pacing back and forth. He shook his fist at her.
She closed her eyes in fear that he might strike her again. But instead she could hear him speak.
No.
It seemed like he was reading something out loud.
He read in a taunting voice.
"Dearest diary,
Never in my life did I expected to be kissed. Let alone by a stranger I had just met..." He was watching her face closely as he returned to stand next to the fireplace.
Esme closed her eyes as she bit down on the inside of her cheek, to stop herself from saying anything that might make the circumstances all the more worse for her.
As Charles continued reading out loud, Esme was once more transported to the memory of that night. How young and alive she had been. How beautiful and perfect that night was.
Charles could burn that page a thousand times if he wished. But the memory itself was engraved in her heart. It could never be erased. Ever.
Carlisle.
She whispered so softly in her mind. Somehow the sound of his name, giving her silent courage.
Her eyes wandered out the window, the fresh daylight was slowly turning into a sour shade of grey.
"Esme! Look at me when I'm talking to you."
Her head snapped back to look at him, her eyes steady.
Charles apathetically threw the crumpled page into the fire as he looked at her once more.
It was as if he was daring her to do something imprudent and impulsive. As if he was daring her to do something so he could have an excuse to strike her down and step on her.
But Esme was not going to give him that satisfaction.
Instead her eyes lowered and her mouth closed.
"We're not finished yet. Far from it sweetie."
Within seconds he threw the entire diary into the fire as he watched it burn with grim pleasure.
Esme fought hard to repress a tear but failed. It slipped out of the corner of her eye as she watched the diary in which she so lovingly confided in, become a dusty remnant of her past.
The pages being ravenously eaten away by the hot flames.
At least the handkerchief is safe. She thought to herself quietly.
Suddenly, as if reading her thoughts.
Charles pulled it out from behind his pocket, holding it out in front of her as her eyes turned wide and glossy in sheer fear.
Esme's whole body felt frozen.
"I found your little hiding place this morning." He said with a boyish smile.
"At first, my objective was to destroy that delirious diary of yours but then, I was looking for my bedroom slippers you see. Then finally when I found it, I hadn't realized my elbow had accidentally knocked off a loose floorboard in the process! Lo and behold I found your little secret. I must thank you though; I've always been a fan of intrigue and secrecy. But you can't hide it away from me forever sweetheart. I always find out." He said with a complacent tone.
He proceeded to walk towards the fireplace.
Esme closed her eyes in defeat. Knowing that she had lost the battle.
But then her conversation with Carlisle replayed itself into her mind.
"Promise me you'll take care of it." He said softly to her.
His golden eyes, silently watching her.
"I promise." She replied sincerely.
She stood up abruptly, renewed courage within her.
God give me strength. She prayed silently.
There was only precious seconds to spare as she moved to Charles's side and snatched the cloth from his hands.
But before she could rejoice in her brief victory he pulled the cloth back with immense strength.
They were facing each other. Her eyes burning with rage as she looked at him.
Their hands locked on either side, in a deadly game of tug of war.
"What do you think you're-"
"You're a horrible husband...You think you take good care of me...You don't!" By now Esme's voice was shaking with uncontrollable anger. Her hands gripping her side of the cloth tighter.
"You beat me senseless, you use me like a ragged cloth that you can just wipe on the dirty ground. How dare you! How dare you do all the things you did to me, you think you could just go on forever taking and taking!" She spat out the last words with disgust.
"I hate you!" She blurted out through gritted teeth. Suddenly all her pent up emotions were bursting out like a floodgate.
"I hate your smell, I hate your touch, I hate how you've taken away everything from me. Everything!" She screamed as angry tears flowed down her face. Charles stood there frozen at her words.
Without warning and with surprising strength Esme managed to rip the handkerchief in half as she ran out of the room as fast as her slim legs could take her. Charles in burning rage as he pursued her across the house.
Her feet were pounding on the steps loudly as she ascended the stairwell, the taste of panic on her lips. She knew Charles was just a few feet away when. .
Esme had slipped, sending her body crashing onto the hard wooden steps. She looked back, adrenaline kicking in at the sight of Charles gripping her ankle. His face red with anger.
She tried kicking but he was holding her in a grip so tight, she felt like he was cutting off circulation in her ankle.
He began dragging her towards him as she screamed.
He was sitting on top of her as he tried to backhand her across the face, his heavy weight was crushing making her legs useless as she squirmed underneath him, but only this time Esme fought back. Rebuffing his blows with her fists as she tried to get him off of her.
The struggle seemed to drag on as the minutes stubbornly refused to move. But miraculously Esme had managed to slide up her leg as she kicked him hard in the groin. He rolled over in pain as he gasped and screamed, cursing after her.
Esme awkwardly stood up and ran with shaking knees to the bedroom.
She quickly closed the door behind her and grabbed the chair from her dresser and jammed it into the doorknob.
That's not enough.
Without thinking she quickly ran to her dresser and swept off all of it's contents, sending them crashing and tumbling to the floor as she pushed the wooden furniture towards the door. After several minutes, the door was completely blocked and barricaded.
Esme spent the entire day in the bedroom. Not even coming out to eat. Not even uttering a noise or a sound.
She sat at the far right corner of the room, her knees curled up to her chin. She was still shaking violently. Like an aftershock of a volatile earthquake. She kept staring at the door, half expecting him to burst in like a madman. The fear she felt at that moment was bone deep. She closed her eyes, willing the world to disappear
She hadn't realized she was still clutching the torn half piece of handkerchief in her hand till the soft strands of thread tickled the skin on her finger. She opened her eyes as she unravelled it from her hand as she allowed a soft sob to escape her lips...
I can't live like this anymore.
Somewhere within the walls of a large stoic mansion, esoterically hidden by the dark blankets of the large forest trees.
A man was facing the window of his study room. The lighted fireplace providing a blurry silhouette of the tall figure that stood in the darkness.
Flashes of thunder brought the dreary dismal skies to life with a vociferous outcry as the earth trembled in fear.
The rain started to fall like tears from the sky. Stray droplets sliding its way onto his window.
He watched with golden eyes as the rain took on a life of it's own, quietly pulsating as each drop reverberated into his ears with renewed clarity.
As lightning flashed into his view once more, the image of her face seemed to conjure together with it.
He took a breath to steady himself as the rush of emotions that her memory contained swept over him in fission of both warmth and pain.
The distances and years took it's toll on his unbeating heart.
He longed to see her once more desperately.
Though brief and few were their meetings, he could never forget her. Somehow the absence of her in his life made him long for death, for a sweet escape. Yet knowing that she lives, he could not dare part with that face. No matter how long it took till he sees her again.
He closed his eyes as the last memory he had of her played out clearly in his mind.
Her beautiful face. The sweet warmth in her skin.
His lips parted slightly as a whisper escaped his mouth.
Esme.
A/N: Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the late update, pleeeeeeeeeeeeease forgive me? I've been feeling under the weather the last couple of days and had to take cough medicine. Anyways I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter ;) I threw in a little Carlisle in there for you lovely people :) and thank you for all your reviews :)) PLEEEEAAAAASSSSSEEEEE keep em' coming! I LOVE hearing all your lovely thoughts and comments :) Love you guys! and God Bless ;)
Stay tuned for Chapter 13 weow! KEEP READING! XD
Oh and as a reward for all your kind patience :D here's a hint to what the theme of chapter 13 may contain.
Try listening to ODE To Joy by Ludwig Van Beethoven, then tell me what you guys think ;)
Keep em' reviews coming! :D