Chapter 1: My Life

A/N: Edward might seem a little OOC but the is how I pictured him as a human when he told Bella that all he thought about as a human was being a soldier.



In the summer of 1918, the summer I turned 17, I found out the army was recruiting boys my age to fight. From the moment I found out, that's all I thought about. I wanted fame, glory, and everything that came with me being a soldier. But that's worried mother the most. Mother didn't want me to go to war; she thought that if I went, I would never come back. Mother wanted me to find a girl for me. She wanted me to marry and settle down. That wasn't on my list of priorities right now. I wasn't planning on even thinking about that till after I got home from the war. I knew how I wanted to live my life. I was so arrogant.

"Edward, dear" my mother said as she woke me up early one morning for school. "It's time to wake up, you have to go to school."

I enjoyed school. I liked writing letters to the soldiers, thanking them for their service. Maybe I only liked it because of my infatuation with being a soldier myself.

After school I went to father's law firm to work on my apprenticeship. I didn't want to be a lawyer. I think the lawyer business was mother trying to persuade me to stay away from the war. Not only did I want to be a soldier instead, I didn't want to be stuck inside some stuffy old office reading books all day. I didn't have the patience for that.

As I arrived at the law firm, I discovered no one was there. The doors were locked, the lights shut off. As I looked around for any sign of why this might be happening, my eyes fell on a hand written note taped to the door:

" The office has been closed until further notice due to an influenza outbreak"

Influenza? Surely the influenza had not spread this far into Chicago. Then it dawned on me, father might have the influenza.

I didn't know much about the flu, all I knew was the Spanish Influenza was a deadly disease. If you caught it, you were pretty much condemned to death. I could only hope father did not have it.

I ran as fast as I could back home. As I arrived at my front door I found it unlocked, uncharacteristic for my mother. I stepped through the threshold and the change in atmosphere from this morning was almost tangible. This morning, mother had fixed breakfast while father was reading the paper, a very peaceful morning. No sign of impending illness at all.

Now, the house smelt like rubbing alcohol. I heard coughing come from the living room. I went in and saw my mother crying over father. Father looked deathly ill. His skin was pale, dried blood was covering his face. Impossible. I thought. Father had been fine this morning.

But that was the way the influenza worked.

"Father," I gasped.

"Edward," my mother said to me, "get the car. We are taking your father to the hospital."

Her voice was cracking, tears streaming down her face as she turned to look at me.

My mind went blank. I felt my feet running to the garage that held our new Model T. I helped mother load father into the car then pressed the accelerator as hard as it would go. The entire time I was thinking not us... not our family.