Carlisle's Son (Twilight Fanfic)

Chapter 1

I walk through the small town with my hood up to keep my head from getting wetter than it currently is. It won't matter much if it does. Not like it can kill me. Hold a moment: allow me to explain.

'My name is Clarence Alexander Cullen. I am the son of Carlisle Cullen and Elise Smith, and I am 351 years old. When I was 2 years old I was told that my father was killed. We never knew what happened to him. But I felt like they were wrong.'

'When I was 12 my mother died from the plague. It nearly killed me. I loved my mother. She was my best friend. She was my rock. She kept me good. and I have never stopped thinking about her.' I stop in my steps as it stabs into my chest. If my tear ducts worked, I would almost be in tears. 'Feeling sick.'

For five years I was forced to live with my abusive grandfather and made to join fake monster hunts. We hunted vampires, werewolves, witches, and, so on. They were all fake. That is... Until I met a real vampire.

~(Flashback)~

{A/N: Any spelling mistakes during the flashbacks are intentional}

"Clarence! Come on, boy! Keep your pace with ours!" My grandfather Patrick growls. 

I bring my pace up to a sprint to catch the mob. I pass all of the rioters as they drag Ruth, the farmer's daughter out of 'er 'ome. 

'They says shes a witch. She don' hav a chance. She's gettn' drug to the stake.'  I feel a twist in ma belly.No real proof she done anythin' wrong... Patrick had somthin to do with it. I cant even think about standin' up for her. I am too afraid of Patrick to even look at him right now.'

"Clarence! Help me! Clarence, please! You know meh!" She shrieks. 

'I cant look at 'er. Shes a good girl. Im too scared.' I pray that god will stop the men. When I run into a strange man.

"S-sorry, sir." I move past 'im. 'I aim to get away from 'im. He gives me the shivers.'

A queer grin stretches his face as I rush on. I catch up to Patrick. 

'His eyes burn with the devils' fury. I can't escape 'em.' He smacks my head. 

"Hurry yourself up, ya little shit!" He shoves me forward then hands me the torch... 'Oh, Jesus. No. I cant. I cant burn murder her.'  

"Take the torch," Patrick growls to me. My blood runs cold. I grab the torch and he turns me to face, Ruth. My friend, Ruth. The one I went to school with. Who helped me to remember happiness after momma. I cant kill her. 

Patrick yanks the torch and pushes me to the ground.  I curl into a ball, hid my face, and-  'Men don't cry.'  That's what Patrick said. His word is law. 'He speaks for God he says. I don't know bout no God. If that is his god... I don't believe cruelty like that exists.'

Ruth screams her please and innocence. 'She the fly. He's the spider. She's already dead.'

Patrick yanks me up and hands me the torch then makes me face Ruth again. This time she has bruising on 'her face and her nose bleeds. 

"I'm sorry,"  I whisper to her. "You have been accused of being a witch. Do you deny it?"

'It doesn't matter if she did or not.'

"Clarence, please. Please! I have done nothing wrong. You know I have not." She cries begging me to help. 

I take a deep breath and my hand stops.