Bevor ich ein Vampir war
Bella has "Twilight"...Esme has "Bevor ich ein Vampir war." The title means Before i was a Vampire because this story is about Esme's live leading up to becomming a Vampire starting at age 16--when she first met Carlisle Cullen.
I would personally like to thank http://fan.17thstreet.net/esmecarlisle/index.php for supplying all information about Esme before and after her transformation. Serously if you have free time please check it out Also PLEASE review, i need to see what i need improving on!
1. One Faithful Day
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I remember the fateful day; it was dark outside except for the glow of the fresh full moon—perfect for midnight reading. I was only sixteen at the time and it was exactly one week before my seventeenth birthday. I walked silently under the full moon with the crisp September air surrounding me—I hugged my worn out quit around my shivering shoulders, my ankle length dress hugged my knees. I walked until I found the spot I desired, my Oak tree. It was upwards of a hundred years old planted on the land originally owned by a religious man—and his son who disappeared without a trace. Its trunk curved creating a perfect place for me to rest my back—ah, serenity.
I removed my Jane Austin novel from under my skirt—my mother did not approve because Jane was an unwed woman. I immersed myself into the novel—hoping that being well read would allow me to become a teacher—there was nothing I wanted more.
As the sun began to awaken from its slumber it cued me to get home. I ran through the woods knowing that I was going to be later than I had ever been before. The trees buzzed past me. My focus was on my parent’s Ohio farm. I ran to the large tree outside my window and proceeded to climb up, however it did not go as planned.
The branch I was standing on shook, cracked and I fell fifteen feet to the ground.
THE NEXT DAY
I awoke as cold hands touched my leg, my head hurt like I had banging it against a wall. I put my hand on my head and opened my eyes only to see the most gorgeous man alive standing over my leg.
“Well hello there,” his perfect voice rang like a bell, “I am Dr. Carlisle Cullen, your regular doctor, Dr. Lare, I believe, is out of town, would you mind kindly telling me your name?” His topaz eyes quickened my heart beat, my mind went blank.
“Ummm….Esme Anne Platt?” I answered my voice raspy—it sounded more like a question than an answer. His perfect lips revealed a smile.
“Very good” he answered, “Now tell me please what happened so I may fix you correctly.” I almost had a heart attack at the sound of his voice.
“Ummmm,” I started what the heck happened last night? I got a few flash backs, book, tree, sunrise, enough to create a decent story I couldn’t remember. “I was sort of outside and”—I hesitated—“I was reading under the moon because it was just so absolutely beautiful”—stop babbling! I thought “and I went to climb the tree to get back in my room and I fell—from the top.”
His perfect face projected disbelief—young women were not supposed to be doing such things as climbing trees. Then he chuckled, “As a young man I did that myself.”
He got to setting my leg—a process that I was told to be quite painful—I, however, was too absorbed in watching him, although I winced once and he gave me a handkerchief to squeeze.
I studied his face—trying not to flinch because it seemed to cause him pain by hurting me—he had cornflower hair arranged perfectly upon his head. His eyes were of liquid topaz, with deep purple bruises underneath. His skin was snow white and he was around six foot and of decent weight.
He was working diligently when all of a sudden his head rose and he looked at me.
“Do you have to use the restroom?” he asked, “I am sorry to be so rude however you probably haven’t gone since around eight last night.” I blushed and nodded.
He lifted me up and carried me down the hallway to the bathroom he was very graceful, opened the door, and perched me against a wall.
“Are you ok to do it by yourself or do you need me to call a nurse?” he asked. I shivered at the thought of this beautiful creature having to deal with my weakness.
“I am ok” was all I could manage.
I checked my chestnut hair in the mirror, it was wavy but decent. I knew if I checked my breath I would be embarrassed—ignorance most defiantly is bliss.
Two hours later I was bandaged and casted and ready to go home—physically. Mentally I wanted to stay with Dr. Cullen forever.