Twilight Fanfic Tear-Jerker. It's been about fifty years since the Cullen's separated and left Forks. Now they are returning to their old home to live as a family again. But something has changed. A mystery seems to unravel before their own eyes. Th...
Synopsis: Christopher convinces Carlisle to go to America. However, Christopher shocks Carlisle with his plans for the future.
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OUR JOURNEY TO AMERICA
Things seemed to get back on track for a few weeks after Christopher's strange behavior.
Until one day when Christopher presented me with a small box. I opened the box and found a one-way ticket to America.
'Why in the hell would I want to go to America?' I thought to myself.
"Father, I plan for us to go to America in a few weeks," said Christopher.
"Christopher, I have no desire, nor do I plan to go to America," I answered sternly.
I didn't really care for the American Colonies. They've been trying to separate themselves from England for quite some time.
"I've already gotten my own ticket and I plan to go. If you don't want to go with me then I'll understand," Christopher said.
"Christopher!" I roared, "We're not going to America...case closed! Do you understand?"
"It's safer in America, Father...We'd also be extremely far from the Volturi. We MUST go!" my son urged me.
"Where did you get all the money for my gifts and for the tickets?" I asked.
Then I suddenly knew. I had not seen Christopher wearing the platinum St. Christopher medal, nor the gold and silver rings upon his fingers.
"You sold your things didn't you?" I asked Christopher.
Christopher only nodded, then asked, "Promise to at least consider taking passage to America," he begged me.
"All right...I'll consider it," I answered.
Christopher went to his bedroom to prepare for bed.
I spent most of the night wondering why Christopher wanted to move to America so desperately.
I was quite happy in Sheltingham...I had no desire to leave.
But my son's quirky behavior had me worried. For example: bringing me the cross that once hung behind the church altar at my father's church; insisting I go to our old house in London to retrieve the old bag I had packed for him; giving me the beautiful sapphire blue pinky ring; or slipping off in the night and going to churches to pray. His behavior in general had become odd over time.
That same night something odd occurred. I heard Christopher screaming as if he was having a bad-dream.
I rushed in his room to awaken him, but he was already awake. It appeared that Christopher was having some type of tremor. I hurried to him and placed my hand to his forehead, which was hot and sweaty.
