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The Falling

Summary:
In the action itself, she is weightless and free. The flight is not to be feared, only the impact. A story on the life of Esme Cullen. Image Hosted by ImageShack.us Banner By incredible Iris!

Notes:
I may submit this to the official site. What do you think?

24. Chapter 24

Rating 0/5   Word Count 537   Review this Chapter

But one fall’s forbidden,

The morning dawns on my open eyes. I groan when I realize I have not slept even the proverbial wink. I truly hope this doesn’t become a pattern.

I lie in bed, utterly bored, the entire day. There is nothing to distract me from my dully throbbing leg and the exhaustion clogging the sharpness of my sight. I truly want to go back to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, his face appears behind them as though summoned aloud.

My mother interrupts my brooding twice on the first day, bearing food. I eat without tasting. It isn’t truly like I’m incapable of moving from the hurt in my heart. It’s really the leg that prevents me from rising. Or so I tell myself.

I can’t bear to admit my weakness, that I could like some swooning heroine be overcome by loneliness in such a way.

I sigh. This is truly ridiculous, lying here lying to myself. I ought to realize he is never, never coming back…

I am embarrassed by the pain that ripples through me at that point.

Two days, Esme. You have two days to get yourself up and out of this bed. That is all. We are not tolerating anything other than that.

And now I’m talking to myself. Excellent. I’ve gone and lost my mind, forever this time.

This won’t work. I have to get myself in shape.

There. I’ll cut a little deal. When the leg starts to work, so will I. I will function again. My body will be healed, just as if this had never happened.

I try to pretend that is possible. I know, however, that I will never forget.

Perhaps it’s a good thing. I’ve been changed so irrevocably. Now I know there is something within me so powerful that I can love him. I am certain I can be the heroine of my own life. I know what it is to live a life worth living.

I sigh at that redundant sentence. Life has turned to little twists and turns, redundant circles, circular paradoxes that turn and turn and never go anywhere.

That’s what I’ll be doing forever. Always looking over my shoulder for him… but he’ll never be there.

I groan again. This is frankly quite unfair. How can he have stood it? If it were me who got the choice, nothing could make me leave… unless…

I have it. I know the secret, what he wouldn’t tell me. Yes, I am quite sure now. It is laughably obvious, in fact. I wish I’d been just a bit less obtuse, discovered it a little sooner, so I could have confronted him and he wouldn’t have left.

No use wishing, really. But it would be nice to tell him what I know.

It is an irrevocable discovery. I cannot articulate it at first, but if there’s anything I’ve plenty of, it’s time to think. I can’t walk or do anything, and I haven’t any company, so I’m stuck stewing. Finally, I can put it perfectly.

No respite, no, no sleep…