Edward's Diary

Birthday

Dear diary,

June 20th, 1906

I still remember the day when Edward was born. I cannot, for the life of me,
comprehend how in the world he turned out to be a complete devil, when he
had been so complacent in the womb!
Edward had been entirely at home inside me. In spite of what I’d heard from
the ladies, he hadn’t started kicking until after the fourth month. Even then,
he had been more content with sleeping in my womb rather than keeping me
up at night with his juvenile escapades. The most I’d had to do was eat my
weight in food, for that boy was forever famished. And he’d had a bit of a
sweet tooth even then! I cannot until this day count the number of cupcakes,
sweets and tarts that I consumed during the time when I was with Edward.
Anthony had been only too willing to fulfill my wishes: he has a bit of a
proclivity for sweets too you see.
It seems that he (Edward) underwent a transformation while coming into the
world. Where my boy had been tranquil in the womb, he was the opposite
outside of it. Now he won’t admit it, but my boy is a bit clingy. Anthony and I
would know! He never spent more than a minute in anybody’s but mine or
Anthony’s arms. We had had to have him removed from his nursery and into
our bed because he wouldn’t go to sleep unless he felt us with him, and that he
did! Even when he’d started crawling, he’d followed me around the house with
his awkward tottering. It had only gotten worse when he’d started walking,
because then he could catch hold of my skirt and not let go.
Mother is a bit disapproving of it, but I disagree. She says it would make him
dependent: looking to me for everything. But I believe that is only his love, and
his dedication. Edward, like me, is a passionate soul. He is a believer. He would
pursue something to the end of the world if he wants it. For instance his
engagement with the piano. He’d discovered the instrument at Anthony’s
father’s house, and hadn’t rested until he’d learnt to play one of his rhymes on
it.
Yes, clinging to me always can have negative consequences for Edward
sometimes, but to me, it’s only a display of his love. If Edward clings, then he
doesn’t let it go in vain. He always strives to please the one he loves, like the
way he beams when we tell him how proud we are of him. That had
consequences, even for a five year old like Edward.
Anthony and I have built him a treehouse! Lord knows that boy has been
wanting one for about a year now, but I was scared that with his light footing
and Mercuric velocity he could fall and get injured. But it’s been worth the
wait it seems. The others will arrive shortly to celebrate his birthday today.
Until then, the miniature Master is spending all his minutes up in the oak in
our backyard. I have a feeling I would have to haul him out of there more than
once now. . .

I frowned and smiled at the same time as I read through what my mother
had written about me. She had made me sound like a clone of Alice, only
much more hyped up than her. Don’t tell her I said that.
Birthdays in the Cullen Clan are always a big deal, no matter how old one
gets. That is the one day when people are allowed to go “all out”
(Alice’s words) for the party.
(Hint: Take the Waldorf Astoria, and add to it the grandeur of the
Buckingham Palace, the opulence of the white house, and the findings of a
gold mine: that’s pretty much what the our house had looked like on
Carlisle’s three hundred and seventy first birthday.)
Knowing Alice, I knew that I would not get my wish for a quiet evening
out on the porch at any rate, so I had prepared myself for the impact the
next morning.
The day started out on a lifting (and raunchy) note. Bella and I made
wondrous, magical, riveting love the morning of my birthday. She said she
was making me pay for all the times I had tortured and coerced her into
doing unspeakable things through sex, but in the end (as usual) it had
been her who’d ended up forfeiting her authority.
What can I say: I am persuasive that way.
I had only just finished getting dressed for the day when I felt Bella
creep up behind me and engulf me in her arms.
“Hello again,” I chuckled, and I could feel her smile.
“Hi, old man.”
“Shut up.”
Bella giggled at my antics.
“I wanted to tell you something before we leave for the house.” She
turned me around to face her.
“Okay, let’s have it.”
She grinned so wide that I thought her face would split into two, “Be
ready at seven.”
And then she kissed me on the cheek and flew out before I could guess
what was happening.
I frowned at what she’d said, and not being able to find any meaning
whatsoever to her words, I followed her, and soon, we were both sprinting
through the forest with blinding speed. She wasn’t looking at me while
running, but I could see her smile grace her face. I tried to look into
her mind, but it was closed to me. She was thinking something, and I
wanted to know what.
“What’s at seven?” I asked, barely out of breath in spite of going faster
than Boeing 747.
“Oh, no, no, Edward Anthony,” Bella giggled, “You’ve given me my fair
share of heart attacks with your surprises. It’s my turn now!”
With that, she sped up, causing me to redouble my efforts.
“Bella!” I called when I was level with her, but she just laughed.
Before I could get another word in, we had both reached the house. And
but of course, I could see, even from here, that the interior had been
decked out like the insides of Chateau Marmont. I could see the fanatic
gleam in the eyes of the she devil that is Alice Cullen, and I rolled my
eyes.
Bella looked barely surprised at the atmosphere inside the house, and I
knew that she’d had a hand in this. I shook my head at her (she and
Alice, when together, and in reasonable limits, could come up with
brilliant ideas) and held her in my arms. When we reached the porch, she
stopped and gestured with her hand for me to go in first.
“The Birthday Boy goes first.” She grinned.
I frowned and smiled at her at the same time as I opened the door, “I am
seventeen only physically, if you—WHAT THE HELL?!”
Something bluish-green, gooey and slimy exploded all over me in that
second. The shock robbed me off my mental faculties for a tiny moment,
and I stood rock still, staring incredulously at my family’s wickedly
gleeful expressions.
“What the f—what in the world?!” I screamed as soon as I came to my
senses. It was only then that I realized that I (and the glass and
carpet, which had been very meticulously covered with plastic so as to
avoid being detected at the first glance) had been covered in sickeningly
disgusting, horribly colored slime. The place in a three feet radius of
me looked as if an alien had been tortured and murdered in the spot,
drenched in a vomit hued liquid that looked almost similar to the remains
of the Senator in X-men.
“What the hell?! It’s my birthday!” I shook my head, and more slime
dripped out of it. I thought I felt some of it crawl down my spine and
into my pants, and I shuddered.
My family—ever the traitors, by the way—were laughing their lily white
asses off (even Esme and Carlisle).
“What the fuck is wrong with you people?! I just took a bath! It’s my
birthday for fuck’s sake!” I shook my hands vigorously to rid itself of
the goo—while Alice and Jasper stumbled over the couch and went down
laughing (ROFL, that’s what it’s called)—and started to make way for the
bathroom to take another shower.
“Oh, no, no! No spoiling my carpet!” Esme held me back.
“What, you couldn’t say that when they drenched me with fucking dragon
vomit?!” I felt more slime drip down my spine, and quite frankly, it felt
like a centipede crawling down the length of my body.
Just to be clear, I despise centipedes.
Esme pursed her lips together to hold back her laughter, but couldn’t, “I
. . . I’m sorry, honey!” she certainly didn’t look so, trying to get her
words out through her peals of laughter, “But it was worth it!”
“Happy Birthday, Edward!” Emmett called out to me from where he lay
prostrate on the carpet, guffawing like a goddamn Baboon.
“Grow up, Emmett!” I grimaced at him, and walked out onto the porch and
into the backyard to wash myself clean of the grime. I think some of it
had made way into my ear.
If I could vomit, I would.
“Wait, Edward!” I heard Rosalie behind me, followed by everyone, “We have
the water ready!”
“NO, thank you, I can—DAMMIT!” As soon as I turned around, a wave of
water punched me in the face, almost knocking me off my feet.
Seriously?! Seriously?! Where is the flash of lightening when you need
one?!
“FUCK YOU! ALL OF YOU!” I couldn’t even hear my voice among their
laughter.
Well, at least I was clean.
**************
I cleaned up following that utterly unflattering fiasco, after which it
was time for the real presents.
Everyone had already gathered around the dining table when I came down
after my shower.
“Hi, daddy!” Nessie embraced me before I had stepped onto the floor, and
I glared at her.
“Really? You were laughing the loudest while I was trying to wash off the
goo. I am already thinking of a punishment.”
“Well, you always say you don’t like us making a fuss on your birthday,”
Alice called out while I walked up with Nessie, “This is how we
retaliate.”
“Why me? Why not Bella? She’s the one who hates parties!”
“She’s better than you.” Alice just shrugged.
“Go to hell.” I shrugged.
But of course, my chastisement made them giggle even louder. Esme and
Bella wheeled in a large birthday cake while Alice positioned everyone in
the right places (so the pictures would turn out just right.)
“Really, now you get me a birthday cake?” I grimaced at them.
“Oh shut up, Edward! Just cut it!” As you might have guessed, that had
been Jacob, whose words had the entire wolf pack nodding their heads.
Savages.
I shook my head and picked up the knife as everybody broke out into a
very tuned Royal-Philharmonic-Orchestra version of Happy Birthday. Nessie
and Bella were on either side holding the knife with me. I took out a
huge piece and stuffed it into Nessie’s mouth as confetti—thank God for
that—exploded all over us.
Gift time followed after that. Esme and Carlisle got me a new Grand Piano
for our cottage, since it had been deprived of one for some time now.
Alice had gotten me a first edition copy of War and Peace (Mine had been
destroyed in a quest for the latter, don’t ask me how), and Jasper bought
me a rare Spanish guitar (he said I needed a change of instrument now).
Emmett and Rosalie had, with great pains I assume, bought me a classic
Vintage edition Rolls Royce. They’d also had it decked out with a special
stereo to play music (It was playing hideous eighties music when I turned
it on). Nessie, Jacob and the wolf pack had, with permission of the
elders, gifted me a wooden, altered version of the Cullen Crest. Where
our crest had contained only a lion thence, now it was bedecked with an
intricate carving of a lion and a wolf. The design had been the produce
of Nessie and Leah’s joint minds, and the mastery and woodwork was
courtesy of the entire pack. I felt proud to have it: since it was a
symbol of mutual harmony and a friendship that would last for eons to
come.
The only person who had gone with not giving me a gift was Bella, who
once again reminded me, after everybody was done, to be ready at seven.
Curious beyond comprehension, I asked her once again what she was
planning. But once again, in wicked exasperation, she just shook her head
and smiled.
Guess I’ll just have to wait and see.