A/N: I wanted to write a story about Esme and what she was thinking of while approaching the cliff- she was so miserable. And that's an understatement. So enough blabbering on. Here's my version of the story:

Disclaimer: I should get my name legally changed to Stephenie Meyer. Then I'd actually own these wonderful characters.

If only someone had cared...

How had her life come to this? she wondered silently as she stood on the edge of a sheer cliff, looking out for miles all around. A dreary day- boats wailing their foghorns, seagulls shrieking over the remains of a fish.

If only someone had cared...

...then she wouldn't be here now. She's be with family and friends, gay and happy again, as she laughed over jokes and humourous incidents.

Laughter...it was something she hadn't done in a long time. Happiness- it was something she hadn't felt in years.

If only someone had cared...

She drew a deep breath, suddenly overcome with memories of her life, and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to block them out. But a wave of emotion hit her, and even more memories now flooded her mind. She was 4, and eagerly anticipating going to her friend's birthday party. She was 8, and enjoying her first automobile ride. She was...she was...she was...Everything was about the person from her past, and nothing about the person in the present.

Pieces of her past engulfed her, and countless images swirled around in her head...but one memory- one memory was more important and significant than the others. It stood out in her mind from the rest of the pictures, like a diamond among rocks.

Her face softened slightly as she recalled the meeting between young Dr. Cullen and herself. Had it already been 10 years ago? He had been so gentle, kind, polite, as he helped fix her broken leg. Not to mention exceptionally handsome and clever. And he had treated her like a civilized lady! Esme repressed a snort. She had been no more a lady as a girl of 16, than a cat was actually a dog. She had been so lively, jumping around, running...climbing trees...

She had been so happy as a young girl, Esme realized with sadness. How had she become this depressed, miserable, hopeless woman? What had happened to her dreams of traveling to exotic and foreign places- to London, to Paris?

Her mind slowly drifted back into memories...into darker, painful memories...

All the happiness she had known in the world had ceased to exist for her when she had married Charles Evenson. Admittedly, he was certainly affluent, and had many connections, but the fact remained that he mistreated her in private. He would often beat her, screaming and yelling, if things did not go his way, and he would sometimes even get drunk! Lord, if the public ever knew of his despicable actions, of his true self! But everyone just dismissed her stories, passing them off as untrue tales from an unfaithful wife.

He never forgave her for doing that.

She had breathed a tremendous sigh of relief when he had left for the war. Yet all too soon...he was back- and worse than ever. He had seen the blood and carnage of war, and to him, the simple act of abusing his wife was a mere act, insignificant, compared to dodging enemy bombs and shooting the opposing masses.

So she had escaped, run away pregnant to the wilderness, to become a schoolteacher. How could she have married the abominable man? How could her parents have agreed to the marriage? Her life had become a twisted combination of fate and bad luck.

And then...the world really did end for her then. Her beautiful baby boy- who strangely (but fortuantely) enough- did not resemble Charles at all, died of a lung infection. She had been disbelieving, panicked, and in denial. How could the Lord have willed it to happen? Was she meant to be that unimportant, and unlucky? Was she meant to have no more happiness?

Apparently not. God had not allowed it to happen. There was nothing left in this cruel place for her. All traces of joy, cheer, happiness, were gone. She was a hollow skeleton, who was never meant to be.

If only someone had cared...

Perhaps, if she had heard the voice of someone calling for her, she would have changed her mind, and decided to move on. But as it was, no one called for her, searching for her, worried about her.

If only someone had cared...

But no one ever did.

She paused briefly as she once more, thought about her chance meeting with Dr. Carlisle Cullen. That had been an extraordinarily good day, despite her broken leg. But from there, it had all seemed to go downwards. She had been severely disappointed when she learned a few weeks later that the doctor had moved. And a few more years after that, she was preparing for her marriage. Life would have turned out so much better if Carlisle Cullen had taken the place of Charles Evenson. But that was never to be. She had nothing, no one. She was nothing.

Her life had been so short. Romantic and exciting at the beginning, but then spiraling down from there. She glanced over her shoulder at the mainland, where all the bustle of a small town was, but then remembered that there was nothing waiting for her.

If only someone had cared...then this life wouldn't have been so tragic. So worthless.

And with this final thought in mind, she drew a deep breath-

-and jumped.

If only someone had cared...

A/N: Okay. I know it wasn't that great, but it got typed at 12:36 AM. And I know it has a rushed ending :P Sorry. But I just want to say that Esme is such a caring, loving, beautiful person, and she never deserved what happened in her human life. So I'm glad she has Carlisle now. I 3 Esme :)

That's it. I.Need.Sleep.