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The Story of Esme

How it began. How it happened. How it ended and how it was revived. A look into the life of Esme Cullen.

This is my first attempt at writing more than just a short story. I have always loved Esme and she is one of my favorite characters in Twilight so i jus thad to tell her story the way I've imagined it.

20. Chapter 20

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It’s amazing how life can go from so great to so terrible in such a short amount of time. Its almost as if God thinks it is some big joke, toying with the lives of others for his own pleasure. At least that is what I thought when only days after breathing life into my son, he died. The doctor’s said that it must have been a lung infection and that there was nothing I could have done but it didn’t matter to me how he died. The fact was that my only child, my greatest accomplishment, the reason for having put myself through so much to leave Charles, was gone. And what was I without him?

I think the most difficult part of his death and its aftermath was the wake and the funeral. I’d picked out a white casket for him but it was harder than I’d thought it would be because of how small it was. At first glance, it looked like the box that my first china doll came in and I couldn’t get over how tiny it appeared to me. I was in denial for a while as I chose the headstone and its inscription on it, using the fake surname I was known by.

Jonathan Thomas Chase

Newborn Son to Esme Anne Chase

June 9th, 1921 to June 14th, 1921

A Life Taken Too Soon

I don’t think it really hit me that my son was dead until I saw his body in the casket at the wake, wrapped in a blanket that I’d sewn for him before he’d even been born. Susannah had to hold me up when I collapsed and let a low moan out from in between the fingers that covered my mouth. I was shaking, still frail from giving birth, and tears were falling from my eyes at an innumerable rate. I’d carried him inside me for nine months and in a second he was gone. I’d lost my hope. I’d lost my life. How could a mother deal with such a loss when it had been the only thing she’d had?

Susannah tried to console me, despite her normally brisk nature. She sat in my room throughout the next two weeks. Since I refused to speak, she read to me as Charles had after Jack died, though this time it was simply the newspaper. she got more and more frustrated with me as I stayed in my mournful comatose-like state.

“You can’t stay in bed forever, Esme,” she said softly one night after having come back from her own home to get her knitting set. “You need to move on.”

I sat up for the first time in weeks, glaring at her.

“How dare you tell me what I need to do. I have just lost my child and you're telling me to get over it?” I snapped.

“That’s not what I—“ Susannah tried to speak but I cut her off, not finished yet.

“That’s not what you meant? Tell me. Did you ever have children of your own? Did you ever carry a beating heart in your womb and sing to it every day just to see if it would move? Did you ever give life to something not including as a midwife? I mean you, yourself,” I continued, knowing I was hitting hard due to the fact that I and everyone in town knew that Susannah was infertile and had never been able to have children.

Susannah’s face turned pale and I could see the pain in the way she looked away from me.

“No. I didn’t think so,” I finished.

After a minute, Susannah removed a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her already crying eyes. And without a single word, she left, never returning.

It was only a matter of time before suicide came to mind. For over two months I’d laid in my bed. Not moving. Not eating. Not bathing. But I didn’t care. My body was too weak to move anyways. I could go without food for a little while. And who cares about my hygiene when it was the last thing on my mind? No one. When the doorbell rang, announcing some new sympathizers bringing flowers or a casserole to the woman who’d lost her child to God’s hands. But I came to a realization: there was no God. And if I was wrong and there was, He didn’t care about me. He’d abandoned me long before then and I renounced him with such ease that it surprised even me. He’d taken everything away until I had nothing to live for. And what was the point of living if there was nothing to make you get up in the morning and feel hope that this would be a better day than the last? I had my answer and I would go through with it.

I’d heard about a cliff outside town that many tourists used to go to in order to see the entire town from that height. I’d heard it was a beautiful spot with a view that seemed impossible to fathom. And from all of my source’s information, I found that it would be the perfect place to kill myself. I’d pushed everyone away. I had no one. So I would be alone when I did this. It was in the middle of the night when I decided to do it. The stars were out and the sky was clear of any clouds. The temperature wasn’t too warm but not too chilly either and I simply walked out of my house for the first time in months, wearing nothing but my white nightgown. My hair was down, blowing wildly in the breeze like fire in the wind. I must have looked utterly feral and unruly by my appearance but it didn’t matter to me. I was going to my death not some fancy cocktail party.

I made my trek up the road until I reached the spot. For several moments, I just stood there, looking out on the sleeping town of Ashland and the forests beyond. It was just as stunning a sight as I had imagined it would be. So pure and honest, unlike the rest of life. There was a wooden railing to keep people from falling and for a while, I just leaned against it, admiring the view with just as much awe as could be mustered under the circumstances. After almost half an hour of watching, I straightened up, tilting my chin down and pushing my hair out of my face. My arms were outspread as if I were about to embrace someone I hadn’t seen in a long time. Stepping over the barrier, I walked to the edge of the overhang and peered down below. It was a long way from where I stood to the ground below; I estimated that it was close to two hundred feet. But I wasn’t scared at all. I felt at peace, as if something good and something I desired would come of this. I would die and I would be able to end my own suffering. That was my purpose for all of it and I intended to follow through.

Closing my eyes and smiling slightly, I took one last deep breath before lifting my leg over the edge. The fall was the easiest part.