Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

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?

42. Chapter 42

Rating 0/5   Word Count 526   Review this Chapter

No, no you don’t- but soon you will,

His hands clamp around my waist like a trap snapping shut. He yanks me toward him and grabs my right hand with his left.

Charles Evenson is not a good dancer. He’s rude. He’s jerky. And he steps on my toes.

This could be overlooked, I suppose, if I cared at all about him. But I don’t, so it doesn’t make any difference. One more thing for me to endure. Big deal- I can make my way through one more song.

And then the reception will be over. The night is winding down, the guests already beginning to filter out, the food eaten and disposed of, the candles burning low. There’s nothing more to do here.

No more time between this and what awaits.

I shudder at the thought- of the knowledge of what passes between a married woman and her husband.

It is positively repellent. But, like so much else, I suppose I must endure. It is nothing worse than consigning my identity, binding my life to his. Really.

I can’t stop the shudders, though. My body quakes at the thought. It makes no sense to hate him this much.

An instrument grinds slowly as the song closes. Charles steps in, toward me, again. I smile at him- it isn’t easy. I give him the sweet glance I know should express my true feelings. It doesn’t.

I don’t love him. I never will. I’ve accepted that. I have yet to accept just how hard it will be to pretend I do. But eventually, perhaps, that will simplify. I will be able to lie to myself and to the world with nonchalant ease. Everyone will be deceived.

Perhaps one day I will be too.

Maybe I’ll be able to trick myself into thinking no, there is nothing more than this, this is how my life always was and will always be. No big deal.

I must believe it- but should I? It would be so easy to pretend I am other than what I am, to be glad, content with my place in life… but I am not, and I never will be. So perhaps it is good the way it is- with my pretending, I the only one undeceived, living this lie but not trusting it, not a part of it. Yes, it is good the way it is.

The music fades into nothing. As the last notes linger in the air, Charles leans in for a kiss, our first ever- I turned away at the “you may kiss the bride part” and no one, not even he, noticed.

His lips are oppressive on mine, an attack. I feel my breath slipping away, and not in the good way I barely remember.

Every particle of my being screams out not right not right wrong, wrong, wrong don’t do this but I can’t pull away. I have no choice. I belong to him.

It is a stealthy fall, but soon it will reveal itself