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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?

27. Chapter 27

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The downward spiral,

“Esme, we’re going to have callers this afternoon.”

“Whom?” I ask. My grammar has improved immensely since the Carlisle incident. In fact, I spend most of the days embroiled in a complex game. I pretend to be utterly unaffected. I made believe I was the perfect daughter, competing with myself for the most extravagant lie. It was rather fun. At night, I would turn out the light and laugh myself to sleep. Everyone was so incredibly gullible. Could they not see it was all an act, that I was absolutely miserable all the time, that I woke up in the morning and went to bed at night looking into his imagined eyes, that I loathed every person I saw because they couldn’t compare to him?

“A Mr. and Mrs. Masen, and their son Edward. Mr. Masen is a successful lawyer, and his son is almost thirteen, about your age.”

“Actually, I’m seventeen. Four years is quite a difference.”

“Oh, it’s not much. Your father is twelve years older than me.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Mother. I do look forward to it.” Excellent. I’ll have to suffer the bumbling forced attentions of a prepubescent child only noticing me because our parents think it would be a good idea.

“They’ve come all the way from Chicago to visit some relatives. They’ve an automobile, so it only took three days, but they’re going to be here two nights.”

“Excellent. That will be such a lovely length of time to acquaint myself with the young Mister Masen. Such a pleasant time it will be!”

I almost retch at my own falsified enthusiasm. It’s so falsely sweet it nauseates me, like a cake covered in caramel and served with lemonade.

“I’m so glad you’re amenable, Esme. I know Edward is younger than you, but he is an upstanding young man from a fine family. Perhaps…”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll get along nicely.” Actually, playing along with this may not be so terrible. He’s a child. He isn’t likely to want me, and so I can buy a little time.

Like I need more. I am positively drowning in time.

“I certainly hope so. Now, they’ll be here any minute, so I’d appreciate it terribly if you’d dress for visitors.”

“But of course, Mother.”

I escape up the stairs. I’m only sixteen, and my mother is so desperate to have me married and gone she’s enlisting the help of infants. I grumble a little, and then I’m so miserable, so obviously upset, that I start to laugh. They really don’t know me at all, do they?

I’m nothing like the person they think I am. I really should run away and join a theater. I’m the greatest actress in the century. I spend every day playing a part so perfectly my own parents believe it. Sometimes, I almost believe it myself, this character I’ve become.

It may not seem funny, but if Carlisle were here, he’d get the joke.

Falling into an empty forever,