Another One


Things have been interesting around here lately.  I have given up on the way things used to be between my former self and my new self.  The things I have done during my travels and time abroad have changed me forever.  My fears of what I am- who I am- have manifested themselves and I have allowed myself to become my own worst enemy.  I am battling that every day and working hard on moving past the things I have done so that I can be a better Edward.  Carlisle has complete faith in me, naturally.  How he can even welcome me back into his home I do not understand.  That man is truly the saint everyone says he is.  He has become more of a father to me than ever before.

We have moved again, and found a new home in Rochester, New York.  It is nice here, I suppose.  Another place, new faces, like always.  I am used to it.  Carlisle and Esme are pretending to be brother and sister in public here, rather than husband and wife, which causes some strain on their daytime hours, but we manage.  We are a family, after all.  Carlisle is working during the day most days anyways.

Esme has been quite impressed by how fast I have learned to play piano, to have something positive to say, at least.  I have gone from playing piano to composing my own songs.  Writing music and then playing it out has been a great outlet for me.  It lifts some of the dark feelings and makes me feel as though I have a talent at something, a purpose.  I have even started writing Esme a song of her own, although it isn't nearly finished.

That isn't the interesting part of my life, however.  What is interesting is that we found a half-dead girl lying in the alley.  Well, Carlisle wanted to save her of course.  We thought some thugs had roughed her up and left her for dead, but they didn't do the job quite right because she wasn't dead enough.  She was fighting for her life.  She was quite the fighter, in fact.  Rosalie Hale, the most beautiful girl in town.  I had to hear all about it in her thoughts as she lay bleeding on the pavement.  She couldn't believe that she was dying, so young, so beautiful, without a child, without a family of her own.  Jealous of some girl and her baby, jealous of everyone who had what she didn't even though she was more beautiful than most and she knew it.  She coveted her own beauty.  

Her beauty was half of the reason I wanted to leave her lying there.  Surely someone was going to recognize her.  We were going to have to move.  Leave town.  I knew the second I suggested leaving her there that Carlisle had already made up his mind.  Her change didn't take long though, and soon we were on our way to find our new home.  

Rosalie didn't like me.  She mistook my wanting to leave her for dead as not liking her, and added to that the fact that I wasn't attracted to her and resented me for it.  Not to say she isn't beautiful, because everyone in the free world knows she is.  But like every other woman in this world, she means nothing more to me than anyone else.  

Carlisle wants me to give her a chance.  She is part of our family now, he says.  That is fine.  My sister, Rosalie Hale.  She has already taken revenge on those who left her for dead.  The men we thought were thugs were actually her fiance and his friends.  Another reason I do not need a mate.  If that is love, I can live without it.  

How she was capable of murdering seven people- her fiance, the four friends that helped attack her (I will spare the details here)- and her fiance's two bodyguards- without succumbing to the smell of blood, is beyond me.  As a newborn, she should have been overwhelmed by it, and gone wild with thirst.  She was apparently controlled, and with purpose, however.  I was impressed, as I have done similar things in the past.  Of course, I am over these sort of inhuman acts, and hopefully this will be the last of Rosalie's.  At least now we have something in common though.  We both know how it feels to try and right a wrong with another wrong, and still feel wrong.

She has eased up on me a little bit in the past few days, perhaps I should do the same.  A little give a take wouldn't hurt anyone.  And I will stop reading her thoughts.  All of the "Poor Me"s and "I Look Lovely Today"s are wearing on my nerves.

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