Monday, March 5, 2012

An Empty House (Flashback 2009. Bella Post Twilight)

I took my jacket off and laid it on the chair near the door, the house seemed very quiet for a house with six vampires inside. Normally, the TV was going, or the boys were playing some kind of game, or there was music or something. But instead, the house was silent.

“Edward?” I called, but there was no answer. I soon was wandering the house looking for my boyfriend, and when I found he wasn’t in his room, I decided to try other places.

“Edward?” I called again. Still no answer, I wandered down the hall and found the door to Carlisle’s office opened. I hesitated before I opened the door.

“Hello Bella.” Carlisle said without looking up from whatever he was doing.

“Hi, Carlisle.” I said. I felt a little awkward, the only time I really had much to do with Carlisle was when he was stitching me up. Which, with my klutziness, was quite a bit, but besides that, I had not had much of a chance to talk to Carlisle.

“Edward went on a hunting trip with the others. I am a bit surprised he did not tell you he was going.”

“Um, I guess he probably thought he would be back before I came. How come you didn’t go?” I asked.

“I was at work. I came home early.” Carlisle answered. “They should be back soon; you are welcome to wait if you like.” Carlisle said motioning to the chair in front of his desk. I sat down letting my book bag drop to the floor. I was supposed to be doing homework with Edward. I pulled out my history book.

“Homework?” Carlisle asked, shutting his laptop. I nodded.

“Yeah.” I said opening up the book. “Edward was going to help.” I said with a shrug. “Hey, Carlisle?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“Edward told me you changed him, than Esme. . . And you changed Edward around 1918. Carlisle, how old are you? I mean when were you turned, and how come your creator isn’t around?” I asked. This story would be far more interesting. For a moment, Carlisle looked as if he wasn’t going to tell me and then he changed his mind.

“I was changed in 1663, I was 23.” Carlisle began.

“Wow!” I said quietly, Carlisle was over 300 years old, I had never meant or seen anyone or thing that old before. It was utterly amazing to me.”So you must not have been turned in America?” I asked.

“No, I was born in London.”

“That explains the accent.” I smiled. Carlisle smiled back at me.

“Yes, I am afraid I have never quite managed a full American accent.”

“What was London like in the 1600s?” I asked. “I bet it was pretty scary uh? Filthy. . .”

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