In Dire Need of Cessation

Twenty-One

"Hold on," Emmett intercepted after the family was rendered speechless after Carlisle's (confession) information, to which he kept a secret from us. Our leader, Carlisle, knew about a source that could aid us when helping Bella and this situation we were presently in. Yet he stayed reticent, not willing to even think about that book freely.

Why?

"Why is it only now you're saying about this journal?" Emmett finished with a look of concealed betrayal straining his features. There were no secrets in this family, not with me being able to mind read, Alice's visons (ruining all surprises) (no fault of her own... on most accounts) and Jasper's ability to feel emotions (until now).

Something so vital, so valuable to both me and Bella was being concealed and hidden away as if Carlisle was forcing this information to stay stubbornly under the carpet. It hurt, suddenly I realized that this act of secrecy had caused a strike of pain through me...No father was meant to hide this away from their child. Surely not. Then why?!

Throughout the years, Carlisle had always known best, hence why we, the family and I, never questioned his input and judgment. Therefore, I wasn't too worried about his excuse. I trusted my father figure...even if it did burn through me at his late clarification.

"I did not believe it to be trustworthy at first," Carlisle began, voice hoarse with sobriety and eyes clouded with lost memories of another century. His hand went to his chin to give it a thoughtful rub whilst Esme's went to his knee in comfort.

His mind, so, so utterly loud, dispersed a memory of that book, lit by candlelight...This time, though, Carlisle's hand was extended out, flicking through the pages at a moderate pace. "You must understand that the beginning pages were so far off from the true description of a vampire, that I took the next chapters with a pinch of salt."

Frail brown pages, smelling of an old child's toy that had been a resident in the attic for too long, abandoned as the child grew into an adult, the handwritten Latin pages described how a vampire had 'ruthless fangs that plunged into the victim's throat' and would 'perish in the daylight'. "Thus why I have been hesitant of mentioning this book. Honestly, I do not want to encourage false hope, furthermore, this man who wrote it was renowned for his troubled mentality."

As Carlisle leaned forward, grasping Esme's hand in the process, I was able to catch a clear view of the back garden; the line of trees, standing at attention like those in the army, stood motionless, not an arm moving, since the movement came from underneath...

Waiting, silently calling for us to come out and play, (Come on! Please, Bella, come outside and play tag! You'll be back before dinner, and in time to do your chores) her friends stalked and lurked, using the cover of darkness to look more sinister than Rosalie without a mirror in her possession.

"The writer was an educated man, living in Italy whilst I was residing with the Volturi. From time to time, I would see him among the crowds, books in hand and running to see his late wife." I switched my eyes to Carlisle, remembering the ghosts couldn't enter the premises, no matter how large their tantrum. They could cry, wail, and scream all they wanted, those past residents should be in bed at this century!

"Lorenzo was his name," Carlisle murmured, "Lorenzo Bollani, married to Maddalena, who passed away from the Black Death. As a result from Lorenzo being alone, with no other family, he delved into research, specifically the supernatural and the afterlife. You can guess why...he desired to see his wife, one last time." It was as if someone had tied a rope around Carlisle's torso (and that he was human) restricting him from breathing and causing him to have to shift back and forth, uncomfortable. Truthfully, it was the memories that were suffocating him, how Carlisle used to feel without a companion beside him, without me nor Esme, and the way the Volturi would tear apart a family by mercilessly killing a son, daughter, sister, brother, mother, or father. They cared for nothing but their endless hunger.