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The Story of Esme

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


Notes:
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.


3. Chapter 3

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1073   Review this Chapter

For years I thought of Carlisle. I thought about him everyday and never forgot the look he gave me when he steadied me after I nearly fell using my crutches. I couldn’t decipher what the look had meant but for some reason, it stuck with me. Funny how after only seeing him once could leave such an impression but it did. I even dreamt of him, his face, his smile, his eyes; those golden eyes that seemed so old, as if they had seen the most ancient of things. Even though I went on with my daily life, Carlisle Cullen never left my mind, though I did push it to the back of my thoughts when I couldn’t be distracted.

My leg healed within the ten week period that I had to be on crutches and we made our way to Columbus for my final checkup. When we went back to the hospital, however, I was devastated to find that Dr. Cullen was gone, having put in his resignation weeks earlier without my knowing. I was examined by another doctor, only making my heart sting even more as I wanted Carlisle to be the one to take off the brace. After it was removed, I solemnly went back home with my parents and was allowed to go back to my regular chores after having been given chores in the kitchen rather than outside, where I most enjoyed being.

I returned to school and was able to catch on to what we were learning easily as I had always been the most enthusiastic pupil. The school was near the center of Hilliard; about three miles from where we lived on the outskirts of Columbus. I think I’d always known that I wanted to be a schoolteacher. I had always been the one in school who helped everyone else out, using patience and compassion. I may have been an “unruly” girl as my mother called me more than once, but I was still patient and nurturing no matter what.

By the time I graduated from school and received my diploma, almost every other girl I knew had already married or was engaged. It was down to my best friend Emma and I and the pressure to marry had intensified tenfold. But we had dreams, Emma and I. We had plans to move out West and live together; I would work as a schoolteacher while she ran the boarding house we’d be starting. It was perfect with one exception: we hadn’t told our parents yet so as far as they knew, sooner or later, we were still going to marry some boy they paired each of us up with. And that was the dilemma that we contemplated as we walked into Hilliard, where I had to go so I could pick up a few things at the grocers for my mother.

“So how exactly are we going to tell them?” she asked as we strolled down Cedar Ave, arm in arm. “I mean, they aren’t going to be exactly thrilled that their eighteen-year-old daughter wants to live alone, hundreds of miles away, teaching at a school in California when she should be in Ohio, cleaning the kitchen after making dinner for her husband like a good girl.”

I frowned at her.

“Listen, Em, I have it all planned out. I’m going to tell them after Easter, when they are in a good mood,” I explained like it was no big deal. “And I’ve practiced what I’m going to say, too.”

I stopped and unhooked my arm from hers as I stood up straight and put on the most innocent look I could manage as I imitated what I would say, right there on the sidewalk.

“Mother, Father,” I began, my voice being a bit higher pitched for dramatic effect. “I want to tell you something. No, it isn’t bad. I just wanted to tell you that I want to move to California to work as a schoolteacher. Of, course I’ll have a place to stay. Emma is coming with me and we’re going to start a boarding house, too.”

I put my hands over my heart and exhibited the face of someone who has been pleasantly surprised before continuing my act.

“Really? You approve? Oh, mother. Father. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me. Of course I’ll miss you. Oh, thank you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

After completing my portrayal of how it would go, knowing it would never go that way though, I took my bow as Emma applauded my acting skills.

“Bravo, Miss Platt. What a performance. Are you sure you should be a schoolteacher because you have a talent for acting,” she laughed as she looped her arm around mine again. “Now, I hope you don’t actually think that that is how it is going to go because if you do you are way to optimistic.”

We laughed for a good three minutes before falling into a deep silence. We kept walking until we reached the grocers. Emma stopped and looked at me as we let an lder couple exit the store before we entered.

“Es?” she asked.

“Yeah, Em?” I replied, furrowing my brow at the worried look on her face.

“They’re not going to be too happy about all this, are they?” she continued, referring to our parent’s reactions.

“Let’s just say, we might want to practice ducking for cover before we break it to them because I know my mom will probably throw whatever she can get her hands on at my head,” I joked, making the worry leave Emma’s face only to be replaced by a smile.

“Practice. That might be a good idea,” she responded before we fell into fits of laughter.

Yes, it was nice to have a bit of a laugh about our parent’s reactions but I think we both knew that they were not going to be happy and we also both knew that there was a probability that they might ruin our chances of ever achieving our dreams. And that thought made each of us concerned…considering Easter was three weeks away.