I'm looking for a beta for future chapters of this story. So if you like it and are interested, let me know.


Therapist-Repeat after me. I do not own twilight

Me-I do not own twilight

Therapist-Okay, we've overcome one problem. Now, repeat again. Edward Cullen does not exist.

Me- Le Gasp! How can you commit such treason to the most amazing person, or vampire, alive (or dead)! He does exist! I will prove it. I'll go get him. Oh wait, damn. I don't have an Edward. Oh hey doc, do ya know what I want for my birthday? Edward Cullen.

Therapist-Oh here we go again, back to step 1.

Me-I like ice cream!

Enjoy the story!

"Mother, I'm going out. I'll be back in time to help prepare dinner."

"Hurry back Esme" My mother called after me as I scampered out the door.

Normally, I hated wearing my mother's idea of 'proper attire' for a young lady. But today, the many folds of fabric were extremely helpful in concealing the books I had brought with me. I was not supposed to be reading. Especially the books I chose to read. But I couldn't help myself. I loved nothing more than to delve into a good story. Well, nothing more other than sharing my knowledge with others. Teaching had always been a dream of mine. But first, I would have to finish my education. After all, how could I teach what I had not learned?

I finally reached the destination of my choosing, the old willow up on a nearby hillside. I used to love to climb this tree when I was younger. I remembered the many afternoons I would spend hidden up in the branches, loving the feeling of freedom being up so high in the branches gave me.

I laid my belongings out beside me. I choose a book and began to read. But I couldn't focus on the book. I so longed to climb the tree again, feel the freedom, the exhilaration. But I had been forbidden. My parents had decided that climbing trees was not appropriate for a girl of my age. But then again, neither were reading the books I read, or riding any other way than side saddle, which I did anyways almost daily.

I decided that it wouldn't hurt to climb the tree one more time. To relive some of my old childhood memories. I kicked off my shoes, leaving them in the dirt. Then I slowly lifted one leg up onto the first branch. I was worried that it would take me a while to get back into the natural rhythm of climbing of climbing this tree, but I was mistaken. It was so easy, almost as if I had climbed the tree yesterday.

After five minutes, I was almost at the top of the tree. I was surprised at how little time it had taken me. I yanked myself up into a sitting position on the topmost branch, and stuck my head out through the leaves.

I gasped at the beauty of my surroundings. I had forgotten about the spectacular view from this tree. You could see for miles in every direction. I absolutely loved this view. I thought that there was nothing more beautiful in the world.

Then I heard a few little crunches. The branch beneath me began to wobble. And then, before I could move, it snapped in two. I fell down towards the ground. Even though I was insanely scared, there was something liberating about the fall. Or rather, there was, until I hit the ground.

I heard a sickening crunch, and let out a gasp of pain. My leg. I clutched at my leg, but the pain from the movement was worse. I lay back again, and I could see the black spots forming in my vision. I tried my best not to pass out, for if I were to die before I regained consciousness, I would have no chance to say goodbye to my parents. But the blackness pushed closer. I let out one more yelp, hoping that someone would hear. Then I let the blackness swallow me.

When I awoke, I was in my fathers arms. He was carrying me toward an imposing building.

"Where am I?" I asked groggily.

"Oh thank goodness you're awake Esme!" I heard my mother's voice call from behind me.

"Esme," it was my father's distinct voice speaking this time, "You fell out a tree. There is something wrong with your leg. We took you to the doctor near us, but Dr. Smith is out, so we are now at the hospital in Columbus."

We'd traveled that far already? Wow, I must have been unconscious for a while. But soon, that was the least of my concerns. As soon as we stepped into the hospital doors, I was being fussed over by so many nurses I could hardly think. They carried me into a private room, and told me to wait for the doctor to come in. I hoped it wouldn't be long. The pain that I had thought was awful under the tree had tripled. I lay there, crippled by my own pain.

Then I heard something amazing. A voice so beautiful it sounded like music. If I'd ever had any doubt as to the existence of angels, it was gone now. For whom could this voice belong to other than an angel? And then the body attached to the voice walked into the room. No, not walked, glided. He was just as spectacular as his voice. His pale skin seemed to glow in the light; his perfect golden hair would have been the envy of all other men back home. He was the picture of an angel.

I blushed then, remembering that mother had taught me better. I had listened through many lectures on not gawking or staring. I would be foolish to forget that now.

"Esme Anne Platt?" The voice inquired.

Doubting my ability to speak, I nodded.

He smiled and my cheeks flushed again. That only made him smile more.

"Hello Esme. Is that all right if I call you Esme?" I nodded dumbly again.

"Well Esme, I am Dr. Cullen. You may call me Carlisle. Here, let's have a look at that leg of yours."

He gently moved my leg around, examining it from every angle. His touch was so light, it didn't hurt nearly as much as when I attempted to move my leg around. Also, his hands were so cold that it numbed my leg as he looked.

"Well, the leg is just broken. A clean break. You're very lucky, it could have been much worse."

I was sure by the sound of his voice that a clean break was a good thing, although I had no idea what it meant. I just kept smiling and blushing, not being able to tear my eyes away from his. His eyes were a butterscotch gold, almost topaz like. The most gorgeous color I had ever seen. Everyone had always told me I had pretty eyes, but mine seemed dull and colorless compared to his.

"Would it be impolite to ask how your leg was broken? I must admit, I don't need to know as part of my job, your treatment is the same. I am merely curious."

There was no way to say no to that voice. I wanted to make up some grand daring story, like the books I read. Maybe I would say I was fighting a man who came to attack our land. Or a wild horse was about to run into a young boy and I dove in front of him. But I could barely complete a coherent thought, much less lie skillfully, around this man.

So I settled for the truth. "I…I fell out of a tree."

He chuckled. "I fell out of quite few trees when I was your age too, dear Esme."

I couldn't help but chuckle also. I knew my laugh must have sounded off. He must off thought I was mentally incompetent. But his eyes bored into mine as if he were trying to see though my eyes into my soul.

"Now Esme, I'm afraid this might hurt a bit. Well, not just a bit. Quite a lot actually. I wish I could avoid hurting you, you don't know how much pain it causes me to see you in pain, but there is no other way. I'll have to set the leg and then put it in a cast. Here, let me find you something to hold onto while I set your leg. I'd offer you my hand, but no human could do this one handed. Ah here we go." He handed me his pocket watch. "Feel free to hold this as tight as you need to. Break it if you wish. Are you ready?" He chuckled at my face. I hadn't realized that I had been wearing a look of such grim determination until I glanced into mirror across the way. I couldn't help but chuckle with him again. Then his face became serious once more.

"Okay Esme, 1…2….3!"

A spasm of pain shot through my body, and I gave a little yelp. I suddenly regretted it, for as I looked in his eyes I saw just how much pain my pain had caused him. I found it odd. He was a doctor for goodness sakes! He should be used to causing people slight pain to help them in the long run. I didn't even feel pain anymore, it had all subsided. But the look in his face was the look my face would have held had I had seen him in pain. But it was silly to even imagine that he might feel the same way. I was just a foolish 16 year old girl, who went around climbing trees and falling in love with doctors who were much too old for her.

"It's all over," he said, trying to comfort me. "I will never hurt you again, dear Esme ."

But he would. I knew he was referring to physical pain, but when I left tonight, I would think this was all a dream. That while I was unconscious, I had gotten my cast put on at Dr. Smith's office. So, whether he meant to or not, he would hurt me. I handed back the pocket watch to him.

Almost as if he were able to understand my longing to remember meeting him, he pushed my hand ever so gently back again.

"No," he said sweetly, but adamantly. "No, you keep it."

"Thank you." I mumbled back. He smiled as I blushed again.

"You're parents are waiting. I will bring you back to them now."

He sounded almost sad to see me going, but I knew it couldn't even compare to how I was feeling. My mother hugged me but I didn't care. Her warm, slightly rough hands meant nothing. I wanted the cool, smooth hands of Dr. Cullen. Of Carlisle.

As my father carried me out of the hospital, I felt myself nodding off to sleep. But I didn't want to sleep, afraid that when I woke up this would all be a dream. So I tried to keep my mind busy by examining the pocket watch. It was simple, but made out of beautiful gold. It could have been any rich mans pocket watch, not a doctors. I clutched the pocket watch tightly in my hand as my father carried me. I could fight sleep no longer, but I refused to let go of my evidence that this night was real. But I was tired, so I let the blackness embrace me, not letting go of the watch once, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

When I awoke the next morning, I was in my bed. At first, I frantically worried that last night had been a dream. But then I realized I was clutching something tightly in my hand. I opened up my palm to reveal a simple, gold pocket watch. I turned it over, and saw something etched upon the back. Two Cs. Just a simple engraving. But I knew what they stood for. Carlisle Cullen.

I clutched the pocket watch to my heart, and let one single sob escape my lips.


So, what did ya think? Just press the perrywinkle button in the corner and let me know. You review, I post. Simple as that. ILY! AND ICE CREAM! AND MY THERAPIST!