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The Falling

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!

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

34. Chapter 34

Rating 5/5   Word Count 528   Review this Chapter

And you’ll fall

“Hello, Miss Platt,” Charles greets me stiffly. He does everything stiffly. It grows tedious swiftly.

“Hello, Mr. Evenson.”

I wish I could get him to use my name. However, he insists it would be a breech of his gentlemanly courtesy. I tried to explain it would be gentlemanly to give me my way, but I was unsuccessful.

“May I take your coat?” my mother all but flutters. If she doesn’t stop acting so ludicrous, Charles will end up enamored of the wrong Platt woman. She is so silly when he’s there, always waiting upon him and trying to convince him to stay just a moment longer.

Mother and Mrs. Evenson are dear friends, so of course she wants nothing more than for me to marry him. I am utterly uninterested. He bores me.

But if I’m going to marry, someone ought to be happy.

“May I escort you through the garden?” Charles offers.

“But of course.” I take the arm he extends and notice his cold and sweaty touch. It’s repellent.

We walk slowly through the garden. I enjoy looking at the flowers. Charles’ blank bland eyes see nothing, staring straight ahead. I don’t bother making conversation. He talks so rarely. I merely enjoy the outdoors like he isn’t even here. A light wind blows, stirring the grass that rims each section of flowers.

The sky is a perfect untouched blue. I marvel at the smoothness of the color, at the snow-white clouds that drift untethered across it. Oh, to be as free as a cloud, floating free across the sky forever, with no burdens and no tasks and no connections.

I return my gaze to earth, to the bound flowers, chained to the soil. They are every bit as beautiful, however. I notice one particular flower- a lily, pale yellow in color, largely unexceptional. It isn’t bigger than the rest, or wider, or with grander petals. However, the very simplicity makes it very alluring. I wander toward the flower and Charles follows my light touch.

I pluck the bloom, laughing and tucking it in my hair. He looks at it for a moment, just a while too long. It makes me uncomfortable until we continue walking. The path is long and pale before me.

Charles stops abruptly. Before I have time to realize it, he kneels. A box is offered in one extended hand as he clears his throat.

“Miss Platt… Esme, I want to marry you. Will you?”

It is possibly the least romantic proposal in the entire history of the institution. I do consider it, until a voice from the past speaks. I’d let you teach my children… Maybe I can have my purpose without this. I certainly hope so. I’ll have to talk mother into letting me go out west, and teach. I don’t have to marry Charles Evenson. I feel an instinctual relief, and I’m not sure why. I’ve never known why I dislike him so much.

Fall into nothing, oblivion, darkness, and pain. Oh, yes, Pain.