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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.

5. Chapter 5

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The effects of my falling out with Emma were evident in the way I behaved. It was plain in the carelessness I had when doing my chores and the way I barely spoke to anyone. I had turned into something I never wanted to be: submissive. It would be an understatement to say that my mother and father were pleased with my new demeanor. In fact, they showered me with praise for my newly obedient nature and my serenity. They felt that they were the reason I was this way; I think they thought that is was them who had “tamed” me but it wasn’t. I didn’t care if they thought that. I knew the real reason and it burned a hold through my heart each time it came to mind.

My fiery nature had been doused and put to rest. I was a shadow of my former self. A shell of a person, hollow and benign. The old Esme was gone. She was in the past and had been replaced by this thing that you might call me. I never talked back. I never disobeyed a request from my parents. I was the perfect daughter. I had become something different altogether and I despised it. I was Esme Ann Platt, pious and dutiful child of Theodore and Evelyn Platt and I was miserable.

To fill the void in my life and to keep me busy, I took a job at a privately funded, privately run orphanage in the city. My job was assistant teacher to Marion List, the head of the Education department. Basically, I taught the forty or so children at the Isaiah Jacobson Orphanage reading, writing and mathematics while she stayed in her nice office, only coming out to scold a child or to scold me. But, despite the constant chastisement from Marion, I absolutely, positively loved my job.

I fell in love with the children there. For me, teaching was my calling and I taught with as much passion as possible. Though it was no teaching job in California, I enjoyed it nevertheless. Over time, I grew happier. I was eager to get into the city everyday and I was saddened when I had to leave. My mother noticed my demeanor changing yet again but this time it was for the better. I was smiling more and I was much less gloomy. And I think that it was those children, those wonderful and innocent children, who did this to me. It was those children, each and every one of them, that saved me from despair and showed me that there are still good things in the world.

In my second month at Jacobson, I was summoned to the office of the head administrator, Karl Van Der Heap. A portly, middle-aged man with a hard professional manner, Karl was known to be tough but fair. I liked him though. After all, he did hire me. But I thought it unusual for him to call me of all people to his office at the end of the day just as I was about to leave. Now, I had always had a guilty conscience and a negative attitude so I automatically assumed the worst. My hands shook as I walked up the three flights of stairs to the other end of the building where all of the administrative offices were.

As I stood outside the door to Mr. Van Der Heap’s office, I took several deep breaths to calm myself down. I kept telling myself that everything would be okay and that he probably just needs to ask me something simple. It didn’t work; I was still more anxious and nervous than a man on death row. So, in order to at least look presentable, I smoothed my hands over my dress so the wrinkles would disappear and I added two more pins to my hair to keep it from getting too unruly. Straightening my back as much as I could to improve my posture, I opened the door and entered the office.

Mr. Van Der Heap motioned for me to sit in the hard-wooden chair across from his desk. He was silent and only watched as I sat down as if searching for fear in my eyes. It must have been visible because I though it saw his mouth almost twist up into a little smile before returning to his cold grimace that seemed to be plastered onto his face. I shifted in my seat as he picked up a folder from a stack on his desk and began flipping through it. It was my employee file, which held everything from my employment history to the reviews and reports I’d received from the supervisors I worked under.

With a face that held no emotion, he read through each page slowly for roughly ten minutes. I just sat there, fidgeting with my hands and looking aimlessly around the room though I kept glancing back at my employer across from me. The squeak that emanated from his leather chair each time he shifted in his seat made me squirm even more as I got more paranoid about what was going on.

Please, don’t let this be bad. Please, please, please, I thought, praying silently that I would still have a job when I left this office. Even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, I was still scared for my job.

After he was done with my file, Mr. Van Der Heap set it down back at the top of the stack of employee files and leaned back in his chair. I could feel his eyes scrutinizing me but I didn’t let it phase me…that is, until he began to speak.

“Miss Platt, you have quite a file here,” he started, tapping his finger on my file. “It might very well be this file that determines your future employment here at Isaiah Jacobson Orphanage.”

What does he mean by that? Am I getting fired? I asked myself mutely. I let him go on.

“I have been forced to make some changes in who will continue to work here and who won’t and it is your job that has come to my attention most often.”

“Plea—“ his raised hand telling me not to speak cut me off.

“I don’t think you are fit for the title of teacher assistant anymore. That, your, position is going to be given to someone else who deserves it,” he continued.

By now, I was trying my hardest to hold back tears and was biting my lower lip to keep from speaking at the same time. I loved my job. I loved those children, whom I had taught and nurtured with love and compassion since I had arrive there. I hoped to God that Mr. Van Der Heap didn’t take everything I loved in life away from me.

“Which is why, I have decided to make you head of the Education department,” he finished.

“Please, Mr. Van Der Heap. Don’t fir--“ I began before stopping myself,

“Wait, you are promoting me to head of the department?” I questioned, astonished at what was happening. “Isn’t that Marion List’s job?”

He looked at me, raising his eyebrows.

“Not anymore. It’s yours now. We need someone younger and less old-fashioned to teach these children and your reports are remarkably good. Marion may have the experience, but you have a fresh mind with more, how do you say, contemporary ideas as to what our children need in an education. We need you, Miss. Platt.”

As he spoke, I saw the room spinning around and I felt a dizzy sensation, almost making me lose my balance as I stood up.

“Are you alright, Miss. Platt?” he asked. “Do you need a glass of water?”

I smiled and felt my equilibrium returning to me. The room stood still and my head was clear of any dizziness.

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “But please, call me Esme.”

“Alright, Esme. Will you accept the job?” he urged, folding his hands across his desk.

“Absolutely,” I answered, nodding my head.

Mr. Van Der Heap stood up held out his hand and shook mine roughly, still not smiling. I, on the other hand was beaming with joy at my new job. As I was about to take my leave, he stopped me.

“Miss—I mean Esme. Don’t make me regret my decision to give you the job. If you mess up it could terminate your employment here.”

I smiled wanly and nodded my head.

“I won’t disappoint you, sir.”

I walked out of the building and went home, feeling happier than I had felt in a long time.