Those Golden Eyes
A sparsely mentioned human responsible for quite a bit of the happening of Twilight knows more than we thought she did. Excerpt:"He was gorgeous; blonde hair, pale skin, bright smile...golden eyes."
Okay, can you guess who this is about? Tell me in the reviews! Enjoy! ;3
2. Meeting in the Hosptal
Rating 5/5 Word Count 2176 Review this Chapter
"Ma'am..." I heard a quiet voice next to me, and thanked the great Lord above for the wonderful attendant of mine. I coughed out my answer, "Yes Mary?"
Mary was the nurse assigned to this room. She took care of all the patients in here, at least until our appointments with the doctor...or death, whichever got to us first.
There were about twelve of us total, in this room, at least. Our beds were lined along the sides of the room, jammed together. I was also lucky enough to be in the same room as my son, right across the aisle from him, in fact.
I hated this place; it reeked of death, sickness, and misery. It was filled with echoed wails of sorrow, shouts from frantic doctors, and coughs of the dying. It was bleak and grey, not a comforting place to die in whatsoever.
But Mary helped me through it all. She was soft spoken and sweet, unlike others working here, whose cold and detached voices rebounded down the halls in uncaring shouts. She helped keep me sane as I watched my son fade away, and was kind enough to let me know how my husband was doing, who was in the adult men's ward.
I was lucky my Edward had not yet turned eighteen. Technically, he was still a child, so he stayed with me in the women and children's wing of the hospital.
We lived in Chicago, on the outskirts in a very small subdivision. That meant that our hospital was small and cramped, completely unprepared for the devastation of the Spanish Influenza. The doctors and nurses bustled about, sweaty and huffing as they ran across the halls, up and down stairs. I hated this place, but not for my own wellbeing, for my Edward's.
He was such a loving and passionate boy, skilled in the art of music; a wonderful composer. He had always done so well in school, right by his father and me, accomplished many achievements most boys could only dream of. He was my perfect sunshine, the only flaw he had was his unruly hair. I loved to ruffle it, but he'd complain. I just laughed, looking deep into the emeralds so like my own. He was a perfect replica of me, if I had been born male. I loved him so.
I was absolutely horrified when he had come home one day, begging to join the army and serve in the Great War. That day was terrible, and I'll remember it until my final moments.
"Father is out now, son. Come, join me in the kitchen, I'm making supper now."
"Yes, come, come!"
"Allow me to take off my boots mother, it's terribly snowy today."
I continued then, humming Edward's most recent song to myself. I batted the dough around, molding it into a twisted crescent, before going over to stir the stew.
"Mother, what are you humming?"
"Oh, just your new song."
I glanced over my shoulder at him, to find him leaning on the doorway, smiling my favorite crooked smile of his. I laughed, and he laughed with me as I moved from the counter, wrapping my arms around his waist. He was substantially taller than I, being six foot two inches compared to my five three.
"I missed you so much, Edward."
He laughed again, "I was only at my lessons, mother." I smiled, shaking my head as I disentangled myself, going back to the stew.
"I know, but I miss you no matter what, right now even, knowing I cannot be around you every second of the day. I love you, my Edward. My sunshine."
"Mother!" I laughed as he scowled. He hated when I called him "my sunshine". I walked over to him, leaning upward to ruffle his hair.
"Come; help me put the rolls in the oven, won't you?"
As we were pushing in the dish, I heard the screen open, before a bellowing voice.
"Yes Edward, we're in here!" I called.
I heard him grunt a reply, and rolled my eyes. I loved my husband, but sometimes...
Edward sat in his usual chair, his son across the table. I turned, leaning on the counter as Jr. addressed the both of us.
"Mother...Father...I've decided something." He stared hard at us, piercing us with green fire.
"Yeah?" Edward asked, looking over the newspaper I just noticed at our son.
"I wish to join the Great War. I wish to honor and fight for my country. I want to be a hero. I want to make you proud."
I was rooted to the spot as I fretted within. This couldn't happen, my innocent baby...he couldn't join the war! No! I had heard from mothers around town whose son's were in the war that they never came back the same-if they came back at all. I heard that they were scarred, jumping at slight noises, drifting from their family. They became cold and unfeeling, until they committed suicide. So many mourning mothers, for babies that got hit with the Influenza, or the War.
I could never let that happen to my baby. Not my perfect Edward.
"Are you sure Edward?" I asked carefully. He turned to me, and said, "Yes." Such a simple, small word. Yet so heartbreaking. His voice was hard, filled with determination and laced with purpose. His eyes flickered dangerously, daring me to challenge his will. I looked away like the coward I was, turning to his father for some kind of support.
His eyes were watered slightly. "That...that's great son..."
I was slightly angered. After all of the disagreements between Edward and his son, he chose now to agree with him?
"Edward," I turned to my husband, "I don't know about this..."
"Elizabeth, it's what the boy wants, and it will bring him honor."
"But he's so young..."
"On the contrary, mother," I turned back to Edward, "I am going to turn eighteen in two months. Then, I will be an adult, and I'll be able to enlist."
"The boy has a point, Elizabeth. Protest all you want, but in the end, it won't be either of our decisions."
I struggled to find a suitable reason for my son to not go, but my mind went against me and allowed me no train of thought.
I hung my head, a tear slipping down my cheek and dripping onto the floor. Then another. And another.
"Mother..." Warm arms were around me now. My son was comforting me, while I should have been nagging him out of this crazy idea.
"Please...it's what I want...I want to fight, to keep you safe."
Tears flowed freely now, rivers trailing down my face, landing on his petticoat. I let out a small sob.
Since then, we had all contracted the Influenza two weeks before his birthday. I worried even more then; the disease was deadly.
We were apparently too far gone to save, and I awaited death calmly. It would save me the pain, and I had accomplished all I needed to. What kept me fretting was the beautiful boy in the bed across from me.
He had seen and done so little, so young he was. He was in pain, coughing and wheezing just as the rest. Just recently had he quieted, as had I. The final stages had begun.
We were getting a new doctor that day, being that our usual one had contracted the Influenza himself. I had liked the man, always trying to cheer me in a place filled with so little hope.
I snapped out of my reverie, to find that Mary was talking. "...I'm so sorry ma'am."
"Excuse me, but what did you say?"
She looked even more uncomfortable now, and she shifted from one foot to the other. Her voice reached me again, muffled by the protective mask personnel had to wear.
"Your husband...passed away, a few hours ago. I will see to it that he has a proper burial...I'm so, so terribly sorry, ma'am..."
My eyes filled with tears, and something loomed in my stomach as my breath got shorter. "Thank you Mary, you are so kind." I rasped.
I saw her cheeks lift, the mask ruffling as she smiled. And then, in a grand entrance, the doors flew open. It was probably our new doctor. I kept my eyes trained on Mary as she walked softly out the doors, before turning to the foot of the bed, where a man was bent over charts and papers. He looked up, and I gasped.
He was gorgeous; blonde hair, pale skin, bright smile...golden eyes. Those golden eyes. The doctor.
I remembered him from all those years ago, and as I had pondered our last meeting, I had noticed other strange things. He hadn't been wearing any special covering, even with it in the dead of winter. I had seen him bent over a deer, mouth to its neck. There was blood all over his shirt and pants; way too much to all be from me. Not only that, but he had picked up the animal, burying it in frozen ground. He sparkled in the sunlight, as I had looked toward him. And then, he was suddenly behind me, too fast for a human. He knew I was bleeding, yet he was not facing my legs, and he had guided me home just by sniffing the air.
I had heard old legends of beasts in the night, stalking people and animals alike in an effort to kill and sustain themselves off of blood. I had calculated the odds, speculating for days on end about how this could all add up to humanly possible. It couldn't.
I was sure that I was crazy to think it, but it made the most sense; which wasn't much.
He was not human. The beautiful doctor who saved me in the early morning must have been something...other.
But what? I had no idea. A vampire drank blood, but could not exist in the sunlight. I had seen him sparkle. And he definitely didn't look the type to sleep in coffins or wear capes, and he didn't have fangs.
I was stumped after assuring myself of the fact that he wasn't a human. I had given up after a while, trying not to obsess over a man I had met as a child.
And now, here he was once again, decades later. Looking the same, not a hair out of place. He obviously didn't age either. And the smile. It looked exactly the same, yet different. What was it about his smile...?
Then it hit me. All staff had to wear masks, in order to protect themselves from getting the disease. And yet, here he was, smiling without a mask. It had been so long since I'd seen a smile. Either a mouth was covered, or contorted into a pained grimace.
"Hello..." he began, but he trailed off, furrowing his brow while cocking his head to the side. "Do I know you?" he asked.
"No, I don't believe s-" I was cut off by a coughing fit. I waited for it to end, yet it never did. My whole chest throbbed in sync with my head as my heart rate increased. He looked worried now as he came and took my pulse with ice-cold hands. It was summertime.
I knew suddenly, saw everything, in one of those pre-death moments of revelation. I was going to die in a matter of minutes, that much was obvious. But it dawned on me, the truth. The doctor was a vampire; an immortal, strong and fast, and immune to disease. He could be my son's savior, the one to give him a second chance.
"Help..." I choked between coughs.
"I don't know ma'am, you might be..." I cut him off.
"No. Not me; my time has come. Help him." I pointed feebly to my son, who would seem dead if it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest.
"I promise to do everything I can." He smiled, but I saw the wall in his eyes, the lie. So he could do more.
"You must. You must do everything in your power. What others cannot do, you must do. You must!"
I continued coughing, as he turned his pained eyes to my son. Everything was fading, flickering in and out. I was losing strength, losing the battle against the fever.
Just before I shut my eyes, I saw the doctor wheeling Edward out of the hospital. I smiled, fading away...