I Do Not Own Twilight.


Suicide is like drugs and alcohol, don't do it.


?POV

A women in a crisp, white blouse, with a brown pencil skirt was walking down the cold hallway. The lights were in need of repair as they were flickering on and off, making it unable to see things clearly. The woman had wavy, caramel hair pulled back in a bun and warm brown eyes, she had a large black belt at her waist and a name tag at her chest, reading Esme Cullen. Her black heels made tapping noises as she went down the aisle.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap.

In her hands was a brown folder with paper inside, the top of the folder read Isabella Swan. She came to a stop just in front of a heavy, white door. with one hand she pulled on the cold, metal handle, making the door open for her. Inside was a neat small office. One wall was covered with medical therapy books, on the other side, there was a large black sofa with a classic wooden table in front of it. In the middle of the room was a desk with neatly stacked papers on one corner and other business stuff on the other, the name plate on the desk had the name Carlisle Cullen engraved on it.

The back of the room was a large floor to ceiling window, staring through the window was a man with blond hair slicked back, gold-brownish eyes wearing a white laboratory coat over a button down white shirt with khaki pants and polished black shoes.

He looked around at the door when Esme came in, setting the folder on his desk and going to the large sofa to sit on it. The man walked over to the desk, picked up the folder and flipped through the papers.

"Another suicide incident?" he asked without looking up.

"Yes, she tried to hang herself. She was in the kitchen, a hooped string hanging from the ceiling while she was climbing a small ladder when her father found her. He immediatly contacted us, seeing if we have a place for her. . .Carlisle, should we take her in?"

Carlisle finally looked up and stared at Esme, "I have a feeling that we should, Esme, I know I'm not like Alice, but I have a feeling about her. . ."

Esme nodded understandingly, "I'll send somone to collect her tomorrow." With that Esme stood up and walked out of the room and down the hall.

A dark figure was looming at the end of the hall, she stopped right in front of it. "I need you to pick up Isabella Swan from Forks High School tomorrow, got it?"

The figure nodded and walked off, leaving Esme to ponder what kind of feelings her husband had for this girl.