Okay, what started out as a normal enough chapter turned into a full-fledged girls' zone. Maybe I got a little carried away, but this felt like a nice un-complicated chapter to put in between the others, also to help understand Esme's transition into the gorgeous woman that she becomes.

Enjoy!

Birth of a Vamp

It is a warm summer's Friday night, and my nerves are completely in tatters. For the umpteenth time, I peep into the mirror, ignoring Eleanor's often painful jabs at my ribs to make me get out of the way. I am wearing my best white silk dress. Though its frills are rather childish, I feel my best in it.

I am ready sooner than anyone in the house, before the sun has even set. Eleanor is still in her underclothing, trying to fit on a hip band on her swelling lower body. Though it flatters her figure, such curves will not fit into the dress she has in mind, a dress specifically ordered from New York, just for tonight.

Elizabeth only half understands the fuss- she doesn't think it important enough to wear her best dress, but she condescends into wearing her second-best: a gorgeous frilly, flowy affair in white taffeta and white satin bows.

I sit and mope in my room, while the feverish sounds of women dressing up echo through the house. I have been moping a lot lately. The reason, of course, is very obvious. I am in love, the first, mad, magical puppy-love every sad adolescent is blessed with. If I hated growing up before, I hate it even more now. Heartbreak is not known in childhood, and what bliss it is then!

The sun sets, the lamps are lit; I can hear the tables set downstairs with feverish activity. Eleanor's and Mother's rooms are filled with the agitated sound of ruffling gowns. They are putting on final touches of face paint and lip colour, dabbing perfume all over themselves furiously, inserting a pin or two here and there in their lavishly bound buns.

I finally make myself get up and trudge over to the wide corridor leading to both of my sisters' and my mother's rooms. Even as I wait, I hear feverish whispers of-"Where is my brooch, Marie! Find it tout de suite!" and "No, not there, higher- higher! We don't want it unraveling during dinner-"

It is almost time, and finally, all three of them emerge. They all look absolutely beautiful, even little Elizabeth, who is the prettiest after Mother.

Father follows Mother out of her room. He, too, notwithstanding his rotund waistline, looks like a perfectly handsome gentleman and I tell him so.

Father pinches my cheek in acceptance of my compliment. Then he chuckles. "Well, I'll be damned! The four of you look like you're wearing the same stuff over- and little Lizzie in miniature!"

We all glare at him coldly. It is only at times like these that we unite- under the banner of Womankind.

"Oh, Papa, you are a man! You wouldn't understand!"- Eleanor scoffs.

"And the good doctor's a lady, now, is he?"- Father chortles.

Another glare quells him and he subsides. "Oh, no, my dear. Ellie atleast, you look ravishing my dear! Your dress makes you stand out better than the others, it does indeed!"

"And so it should," Eleanor answers primly. "Mine is the latest trend, not like Esme's. She must be wearing what Grandmother wore when she was little!"

"Now, now, Ellie," Father says sternly. "Not to worry, Esme my dear. You look like a beautiful child, indeed you do!"-he tries to console me.

But the damage has been done. I am standing, frozen at the top of the stairs, all the words running through my mind incessantly.

-what Grandmother wore-

-a beautiful child-

-the child in you-

He thinks I am still a child! This thought, never in my head all these days, is suddenly firmly imprinted on my mind.

A child.

Tears are already running down my cheeks as I hasten up the stairs, and run back to my room.

"Esme!"-Mother is calling for me.

I let out a strangled sob, and slam my door shut.

I am aroused by the sharp ring of the telephone. It has not been ten minutes since I had all but drowned in despair. I cannot hear the exchange over the apparatus from my room, but a few minutes later, a knock sounds on my door.

"Esme dear?"- my mother's uncertain voice sounds. "That was Dr. Cullen over the telephone. He has been held up by an emergency. He will be coming a half hour late. There's plenty of time, my dear. Why don't you wipe your tears and start afresh, dear? I'll even put on a little rouge if you like."

I do not reply, or acknowledge her presence in any way. After a few minutes, I hear her rustle away. The other guests of the evening are starting to come, and Mother can't stay up here forever. But she has left behind something. Something that quells my tears, and makes me stop despairing and ponder, and wonder.

Start afresh.

Start afresh.

I will start afresh!

I leap off my bed, wrench open the door, and run to Eleanor's room.

So he thinks me a child, does he? Everyone does.

Well, they will be in for a huge shock.

I open the doors of Eleanor's closet, and behold masses and masses of shimmering silks and satins. I carefully dig into her clothes, knowing she will already be mad enough without me making a mess in her closet.

Finally, I find what I'm searching for.

A beautiful gown in forest green chiffon with leaf green strips in between giving it a lovely shaded effect. It is also sequined with little unostentatious silver beads. This had been Eleanor's original choice for tonight, then she changed her mind because she thought it was too plain. Of course, I knew the real reason. This dress is a bit too revealing, a bit too modern for our family's tastes. I had often wondered why she had even bought it in the first place. But now I am only thankful that there is a dress ready at hand to make everyone emphatically Sit Up. Eleanor decidedly couldn't flaunt this dress.

But I can.

I have always looked back at that moment- the moment I held Eleanor's dress in my hands- as the moment when I finally grew up. I was no more little miss awkward Esme Platt. I would soon be known as the very modern and promiscuous Miss Platt.

So I hurriedly strip off - even my underclothing, especially my corset. So old-fashioned, I suddenly realize. The dress is more deep-necked than I realized, and very, very revealing. Two thin straps of deep green are all that cover my shoulders, and the back of the dress reveals my smooth ivory spine. I wear a pair of white elbow-length silk gloves to cover my bare arms. I let my smooth curls bundle up loosely at the nape of my neck, a very simple, casual knot. Then I apply a generous amount of rouge, and a very deep, dark red to my lips- a shade which has never been seen in this household. Then I wear Eleanor's best silver shoes- a little big for me- and clutch her silvery feathered fan- my accessory.

"I look like a vamp", I say aloud, and then grin. No matter. That is what I want.

And so, with a final glance at the mirror, Esme Platt the vamp swishes away in a swirl of forest green, scarlet and silver.