Threading the Wrong Needle | Twilight [2]

quatre

Rochester, New York, 1933

There's a thin line between damning someone for eternity and saving their life. Estelle never saw her existence as something wrong or sinful, had never believed that she was something cursed.

She never considered it would be any other way for Rosalie who loved her mother so dearly regardless of all other hopes and dreams. She had believed it would be fine, that the human would wake this new person and be thrilled to spend forever with her mother.

Estelle should have left her to bleed out in the streets.

They were out for the evening, all gathered at Vera's for a night of peace. The music had been playing, the record spinning easily, and Rosalie had looked beautiful at her mother's side, dancing in the blue dress maman had given her a a gift because she could not help spoiling the blonde that already got everything.

Estelle wasn't very sure how she felt about the woman, not really knowing what to think about how she so clearly loved her mother yet proceeded to marry another man. For Rosalie was selfish in those respects, not caring how she lead her mother on. Maman would always do everything for the human, of course she would never complain if she was being inconvenienced by her romance that could never be because the human was oh so selfish.

That night though, Estelle had been much more relenting on the woman, had let herself try to get along knowing all the while that her mother was overjoyed by the prospect of them interacting. She had to smile at the sweet and loving nature of her maman, always looking for the best in everyone as she was ever the optimist.

She would have said the night had gone well, that her mother's happiness had filled the room so. . . fully, that Estelle did not mind going out of her way on her way home, using the excuse of visiting the Cullen's for the night, and going to check up on the blonde to ensure her safe return home.

Blood had not been what she had expected, not so much puddling in its determined goal to stain the streets. The dress was torn, snow falling in gentle flurries, and Rosalie just laid there staring blindly up at the sky. The girl did not move as she arrived, did not answer as she urgently called her name and cursed violently when their was no response - her heart rate slowing dangerously as she had been stranded in the streets.

Estelle took her to the Cullen's then, had demanded of Carlisle to change her where her self control was lacking. She would not take the risk, not where her maman was concerned.

She would have done anything to make her mother happy, even if it meant inconveniencing herself for the rest of eternity by being stuck with Rosalie.

She would have done anything for her maman.

Rosalie should have been left to die in the streets that night.

When Estelle had come home that night, smelling of something she knew far too well with dark stains on her pretty dress, Marion was clearly startled into unease. She could see the fear that began to grow in her maman's eyes and the way that she grew tense and tenser with each intake of breath. A sorrow bubbled in the room as she regarded her mother and uncle.

"There has been an accident," she said, refusing to meet her mother's imploring, begging gaze. "I found her in the streets covered in her own blood."

Marion grew still, as though forced into a state of shock. Forcefully frozen by her own being and Estelle felt as tough she was but a young girl growing in the lake once more. 

Because Rosalie was dying and Estelle had done all that she could but she did not trust herself to make the change as she should have. If she had bit Rosalie, she was uncertain if she would ever be capable of stopping herself.