A/N:
I tested positive for COVID on Friday -.-
My weekend's been rough with a lot of unpleasant flu symptoms, but I am feeling better, so that's good.
Anyway, I thought I'd give this to you because I get a hit of dopamine when I update a story, knowing people are reading my words, and I sorely need all the feel-good hormones right now xD
Enjoy!
Title: Origins: Living in my Future
Author: MarieCarro
Beta: Alice's White Rabbit
Pre-reader: BitterHarpy
Genre: Supernatural/Mystery
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Mary Alice Brandon had always been different. She seemed to know things that had yet to happen, and the people in town avoided her at all costs. But the cries of "Witch" or whispers of "Changeling" wasn't her biggest concern. Someone much closer to her than the townsfolk couldn't accept her differences, and it put her in life-threatening danger.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
CHAPTER 11
FRIDAY, APRIL 15th – WEDNESDAY, MAY 11th 1921
The house was a summer home for the owners and stood empty most of the year and was a perfect shelter for me while I mapped out my next steps. After six months in this new life, I'd started to feel more confident in myself and how to utilize my enhanced senses and physical strength.
I was yet to spend long stretches of time around humans, but I was taking things slow and one step at a time. No longer was I seized with uncontrollable bloodlust at the sound of a human's heartbeat or the blood rushing through their veins. As long as I kept an acceptable distance, at least.
As I sat on the beautiful chaise in the light and open sitting room, I looked at my surroundings and saw tiny glimpses of the cleaning the maids would do to prepare the house for their owners in a couple months. My visions of humans were never as sharp or clear as those I had of Jasper or Edward and Carlisle, but I saw enough to get a good understanding of the entire picture painted.
My eyes caught my own reflection in a hallway mirror, and a small, proud smile softened my features as I took them in for the first time in quite a while. My hair was still in need of a trim—I wasn't certain I wouldn't attack a hair dresser if I went into a salon yet, and I knew nothing of cutting hair, so I didn't dare cut it myself. The time passing had proved my hair no longer grew, so I'd have to be careful with how much I was willing to remove. However, I looked nothing like the horror I'd seen in the store's bathroom the day I stole my clothes.
The dress was still clean since I'd been very careful with it, but the shoes were a bit worse for wear after all the running and walking I'd done. I'd acquired some makeup and taught myself to apply it so I no longer looked like a child, but it was the color of my eyes that caused the most pride.
No longer were they the bright red of nightmares but had muted down to an orange, reminding me of the skin of a tangerine. I couldn't exactly claim I was sold on the diet of animal blood, but I had acclimated and could, at least, drink it without immediately wanting to regurgitate. And my motivation was that, with each day I persevered, my future with Carlisle and Edward solidified.
I could say with certainty that I would be a part of their little family one day, and I was looking forward to it so much.
Then there was Jasper, of course.
I released a tranquil sigh at the thought of him. I was as certain of my future with him as I was with the others, but no matter my conviction, the visions I had of him were a lot more fickle and prone to change rapidly.
At first, I didn't understand why, but as the puzzle pieces settled, I knew it was because of how he was currently leading his life in Mexico with his creator.
Maria.
An instinctive growl ripped out of my throat as my mind filled with images of the female vampire who was controlling the man I already loved. She was a master at manipulating him, and what was even worse was that he couldn't see it. All she had to do was whisper a few seductive words in his ear, and he'd gladly do her bidding, even though he had to isolate himself for hours on end after to silence the guilt threatening to drown him.
When I found out he also had a gift and what he was able to do with it, my silent heart ached for him even more. Controlling and projecting emotions onto others was one thing, but I'd seen too many visions of him crawling into corners and tearing at himself to release the pent-up frustration at having to feel what those around him experienced; he was deeply affected by everything Maria had him do.
I longed to see him and closed my eyes to see if I could search out a vision. Unfortunately, what spread through my mind was the last thing I wanted to see or remember forever—Jasper and Maria interlocked and writhing together as they brought each other pleasure.
If it had been possible, I would have pushed the vision away from my consciousness, but it was already there, and I couldn't stop it. I simply had to endure it and try to distract myself as it played out.
The moment I first saw Maria as a part of the visions I had of Jasper, I knew they had an intimate and sexual relationship. It had torn at me to know he was dedicated to someone else, but I'd quickly forced myself to accept he had a life and existence to live out before he and I met. I couldn't fault him for that.
However, the urge I felt to go against my visions when I realized how deep she'd dug her claws into him and to slap the living light out of her for all the mental anguish she had and would put him through had been so strong I'd physically run several miles south before I stopped myself.
I had almost decided to hit myself to see if it would remove the vision from my mind when I was unexpectedly seized by another, which made me gasp as it almost knocked the breath out of me. My surroundings disappeared, and all I could see was the interior of Edward and Carlisle's home. It was so vivid, as if I were there myself.
Edward was almost run over by a frantic-looking Carlisle, who was carrying a broken woman littered with bruises.
Their expressions couldn't have been more opposite, and yet, there was an underlying emotion in their eyes that they shared.
Carlisle was beyond worried for the woman he was placing on their couch while Edward was just plain worried, most likely about the implications of having the woman in their house.
I didn't understand that worry until I witnessed Edward manhandle Carlisle, and the two of them going outside, followed by their conversation.
"She was still alive. I couldn't leave her."
Edward wasn't pleased and grimaced. "Why not? Why did you feel the need to condemn another one?"
Carlisle sighed. It wasn't the first time I'd seen them have a conversation about heaven and hell, so I understood his frustration even though I didn't share either of their beliefs. "I'm not having that discussion with you, Edward. I haven't condemned her as I didn't condemn you. Your beliefs are yours, and I won't question them. She was still alive despite her injuries, and to me, that's a sign from God. Why else would I be there to hear her heartbeat when everyone else said she was already dead?"
"Why her? What does she mean to you?" Edward pressed.
Carlisle hung his head. "She's Esme."
"Who?"
"Ten years ago, a month before I moved to Chicago, I worked at a hospital in Columbus, Ohio. One night, a sixteen-year-old girl was brought in just as I started my shift. She had fallen out of a tree and broken her femur, but the local doctor who made house calls had traveled out of town, so the family had no choice but to take her to the hospital, despite it being hours away from their farm. The girl must have been in excruciating pain the entire journey, yet she didn't cry as I treated her." He looked over his shoulder, most likely toward where the woman was, before he continued. "She was a very curious girl. She wondered about my eye color as well as why I was so pale. I sidestepped her questions by asking about her instead. Her name was Esme Anne Platt, and she dreamt of becoming a teacher when she grew up. She loved children and wanted to work with them."
"Are you saying that the woman in there is the same girl you treated ten years ago?" Edward asked, his tone colored with disbelief. I couldn't blame him. As enthralled as I was with Carlisle's story, it sounded too fantastic to be true, even coming from a three-hundred-year-old vampire.
"Yes. At first, I couldn't believe it was her when they brought her into the emergency room, absolutely broken and beyond human repair, but it was her, and all I could see in front of me was that curious, happy, young girl who dreamt of working with children. I just couldn't leave her to die."
The vision faded, and I was once again in the sitting room of the summer home.
I'd been taken by complete surprise, and the last time I'd had such an encompassing vision was directly after I'd first woken up without my memories. A vision so absolute, no decision or choice in the world could have changed the outcome.
This woman, Esme, was always meant to cross Carlisle's path and subsequently become a part of his family. Thoughts of destiny and fate—words I rarely used despite being psychic—swirled around in my mind.
I smiled as it sunk in that there was now another person I would be able to call my family. Esme Platt … or perhaps, she'd take Carlisle's name and call herself Cullen.
In the periphery of my mind, a new vision winked, and when I looked at it, I saw Esme and Carlisle facing each other, their adoration-filled golden eyes taking each other in, in front of a priest. Her in white and him in a tuxedo.
Esme Cullen it was then.
{=LMF=}
The start of Esme's new life with Carlisle and Edward fascinated me and kept me captivated for a few days. From my own experience when I woke up, I knew that the first week was the most confusing, and it was no different for Esme, despite having two others who could support her and explain everything.
One second, I'd seen a happy vision of Esme smiling at Carlisle, and the next, it changed into a horror show, and her sharp teeth buried in a dead boy's neck. She'd been beyond distraught, but at least Edward had given her the distraction she needed, unknowingly giving me further insight as well.
"In my three years, I've killed more than I'd like to admit," he said, giving her a sympathetic look. "I know exactly how you feel, Esme. You feel empty and full at the same time; you feel guilty yet satisfied; you're angry and you feel evil, but it's impossible to shake the feeling of rightness out of your body. We're created to feed on humans. It's our natural instinct, so what happened up there wasn't your fault. Carlisle and I deny ourselves something others of our kind take for granted, but from what I've understood of Carlisle's stories, we give ourselves the chance to gain more in the process."
Carlisle eyes were filled with pride as he listened to Edward's speech, and I felt something akin to that. I already considered Edward my brother, and seeing how much he had grown from the man he was in my first vision—then so cynical and troubled—to the man he was with Esme caused me to smile.
I most likely remained on the chaise for the entirety of my stay at the house. I wasn't exactly aware of my surroundings, so I wasn't certain if I ever moved around, but I couldn't tear myself from the well of information I was given through Esme's entrance into our lives.
"Please, don't leave me. He'll find me. He's already done it once, and he can do it again. I can't be alone; he'll kill me," Esme pleaded, and Edward's expression filled with darkness.
"We won't ever let the bastard you called husband touch you again. You hear me? That's a vow!"
It didn't matter I barely knew who Esme was because I was immediately infuriated with the knowledge that she came from an abusive marriage, and my reaction was more than emotional. My nails tore through the fabric of the chaise and ripped it, causing the filling to spill out, but I was barely conscious of it.
It was the first time I'd had such a reaction to a vision that didn't involve Jasper or myself. Something about Esme's situation made me feel something I couldn't quite identify. Since I had no memory of my past, it was impossible to say why my body reacted as viscerally as it did.
I stared at my own hand as I contemplated that.
What did my past hold? What memories were hiding in the darkness of my amnesia? Was it possible that I'd find the reason behind me waking up alone, dirty and smelling as if I hadn't showered in weeks, if I were to search for it?
As Edward told Esme his story—and she told hers in return—I realized how much I wished to have a story of my own to tell them when we finally met.
"I'm from Chicago. Born and raised by my parents Edward and Elizabeth Masen. When the pandemic reached the city, I lost them both. I wouldn't have survived either if Carlisle hadn't saved me."
"I am so sorry to hear that. The disease took my grandparents, but it never reached the farm where my family lives, and Charles was one of the lucky soldiers who never fell ill."
"Your husband was in the war?"
Esme nodded. "He was. He was drafted only three months after our wedding. It was the happiest two years of my life, but he came home, and everything returned to how it had been before. A part of me had hoped the war would change him, and it did, but not for the better. When I—" She stopped, but I wasn't quite certain why.
"We already know," Edward replied to a question she must have thought of. "You were thinking of him while you changed."
She looked down to hide her blank eyes. "When I found out I was pregnant"—oh!—"I knew I couldn't stay. Charles didn't know I was carrying his baby, and I wanted it to remain that way, so I left one night without telling anyone. I have a cousin in Milwaukee, and she was kind enough to help me, but my family found out and told Charles where I was, and so, I had to run again. That's how I ended up here. I assume you know how I got injured as well then?" Edward and Carlisle nodded. "I've never been a suicidal person, but seeing my baby, the only reason I had left to live for, lifeless in his bed … it just hurt too much to endure."
Carlisle comforted her as she began to cry, and it was the last vision I had of them for the moment. I looked at the ripped fabric next to me and contemplated fixing it before leaving, but then decided against it.
The owners wouldn't be able to explain the reason the chaise was ruined, but they would replace it without much grief, so I didn't feel too guilty as I set out to find out more about my own past.
{=LMF=}
I had refused to take a single breath since I entered the salon in Jackson, Mississippi, which was only about fifty miles or so from where I'd first woken up, if my calculations were correct.
To put the hairdresser at ease, I'd given them the excuse I was mute and only communicated through writing in my notebook. Then I handed them a picture I'd torn from a magazine to show what I wanted them to do with my hair.
In order to hide my still bright-orange eyes, I kept them down and pretended to read the provided literary material as they cut, combed, and styled. I was beyond relieved to finally have something done with the horrible mop of uneven lengths covering my head.
The finished result was more than I hoped for, and I smiled as I looked at my black hair styled into soft waves framing my face. I gladly paid what I owed with money I'd stolen from a banker's wallet when I passed him on the street and even left some extra as a thanks.
Finally, I felt ready to start challenging myself and my control around humans, which would be very necessary if I were to find out more about my past and what lay waiting in its shadows.
{=LMF=}
It shouldn't have surprised me that finding anything about my past would be impossible. Not only because I had so little to go on, but also because the few details I had were like a drop in the ocean.
I had no idea how old I was exactly. I assumed I was from Mississippi because of the slight drawl I had the few times I dared to speak around humans, but that wasn't a given, and there were too many Alices—first names, middle names, and double-names—for me to find anything concrete.
Any one of them could be me, and there were alarmingly too many who'd disappeared and/or died in 1920.
I exhaled sharply in frustration.
Perhaps I wasn't meant to learn about my past. Maybe that was why I didn't remember anything when I awoke.
Had a higher power decided my past was too dark and horrible to remember and decided to spare me the pain? Or was it a simple coincidence, as frustrating as that was?
Apparently, I had to accept it, no matter the reason.
I decided to immediately leave Mississippi and not come back. There wasn't anything left there for me, and I had no reason to stay. My family was up north, having just recently moved from Wisconsin to Oregon, and the man I loved was trapped in Mexico by a demonic bitch.
I startled myself with the thought. I couldn't remember ever having cussed, out loud or in my mind, but I most likely had sometime in my past. It felt freeing to use a word like that to describe how I felt about Jasper's creator.
When I passed the state line between Mississippi and Arkansas, I bid a silent goodbye to my undiscovered past and accepted it would be lost to me forever. It didn't matter anyway because what was of utmost importance to me was my future.
A/N:
Esme's joined the Cullens now! And Alice is getting to know them all through her visions, as well as getting to know herself!
Let me know your thoughts! I'd really appreciate them right now! They'd definitely put a smile on my face despite everything going in my airways right now.
Until next time,
Stay Awesome!
