Chapter Text
Chapter One
Prelude
May 2004 Chicago, IL
I rested my head on a pillow as I stared at the ceiling, feeling exhausted but I knew I wasn't about to sleep any time soon. My mind was working too much for rest to come, and until I settled it, I would just lay here awake. I had two tests tomorrow, and I thought over one subject and then the other before I was satisfied that I had a handle on the information that I needed to know. The final track meet of the season was in two days, and I was a little nervous that I would lose to Eric Summers. We have been rivals ever since freshman year and in the ten races we had against each other we were tied at five a piece. I wanted to be the state champion in the 3200 meters race, and I knew I would have to press myself to the limit if I wanted that to happen. I was really going to have to train hard tomorrow to prepare.
I sighed, and turned to my side, I wish I could go downstairs and play the piano to calm my nerves, but even leaving my room would cause too much noise. I would hate to wake my parents; my father would not be pleased if I caused a disturbance. Of course, my father hardly ever showed his pleasure with anything I did, but he was quick to berate me whenever I did anything to displease him.
I sighed again, the last thing I wanted to do was think about my father, as it just reminded me of all his hopes and dreams he forced upon me. Rolling my eyes I looked over to my desk and thought about the newest letter that was in my locked drawer. It was the latest one that Esme, my older sister, wrote to me, informing me that she was doing so well in all of her classes that even if she flunked her finals that she'll be taking in a few weeks, she would still graduate in mid-June with her bachelor's degree in interior design.
I was incredibly proud of her and wished that I could be there for her graduation to support her, but I knew that would never happen. My parents hadn't spoken to her in six years, not since she had left home a few months before she finished high school, running off with her boyfriend, Charles Evenson, and eloping with him. The scandal had brought shame to my father, and he immediately disowned my sister, and had no communication with her since. Of course, my parents knew that I exchanged letters with Esme, but we have never discussed them.
Remembering the turmoil that her departure had caused in our family, and the strain it had placed on my shoulders, I had to push down my resentment. I had worked through those feelings years ago, after the many letters between Esme and myself and our back-and-forth communication let me vent my frustration with all the pressure my father put on me to be the perfect child. I had blamed her for a long time for our father's colder attitude towards me, and I realized that she blamed herself too, but the truth was it was my father who chose to close himself off.
Besides, it's not like Esme's life had been easy since she left, though she never mentioned it directly, I knew she regretted the way she had left. At first, I thought she was just ashamed of the way she had ran away because things were difficult between her and our parents, but eventually I realized she wasn't happy and I had a feeling a big part of the reason was because of her disappointing marriage. That was why I was so happy when she informed me that she was divorcing Charles after two years of marriage, and I had tried to get her to come home, but she was too stubborn to prove that she could make it on her own. Though I was disappointed that I didn't get to see her, I was very proud that she proved that she was right, and that she sounded much happier with her life.
That didn't make dealing with the pressure my father put on me any easier to handle, though luckily, my mother was able to temper some of his restrictions. This was most noticeable when I was fourteen and my father had just learned of my aspiration to become a musician. I was thinking about trying my hand a composing, but I knew I wasn't ready for that. Instead, I was using all my free time studying the masters and reading their biographies so that I can get inspiration. Once my father discovered this, he put his foot down, saying that he didn't want me to waste my time in such a fruitless endeavor. There was no way a son of his was going to become a worthless musician. No, according to him, I was going to follow in his footsteps and become a lawyer.
My father had even forbidden me from playing the piano, stating that I should give up my childish fantasy, but my mother wouldn't stand for that. She got up immediately and walked to my father, making him focus on her alone. She told him that playing the piano was the only time I was able to relax, and that was very important to keeping me healthy. Especially with all the pressure I was under with my studies and competitions, I needed a place where I could relieve my stress, and the piano has always been that place for me.
My father wasn't please, but he did relent after looking at my mother for several minutes. He turned his cold eyes on me and told me that if my grades slipped at all, I would no longer be allowed to have my piano lessons. I knew it was no idle threat, so I worked hard to keep up my grades, but it was worth it so I got to continue to play. However, I did have to give up the idea of composing for the time being, as I found that I no longer had any free time since my father got me a job working at his office.
The sound of my alarm woke me and I realized that I had fallen asleep sometime during my reflection of my past, leading to a fitful sleep and dreams of boring legalese. I quickly got up and prepared myself for the day, going through my routine without much thought. Actually, the whole day passed without thought, as I went through my classes, aced my test and went through practice mechanically. I don't know why I was so stress last night; this was just another day in my life.
The next day I had some jittery nerves, but they were the good type. It was the feeling that competition brought out of me, and though music was my passion, when I was running in the zone, I always felt the thrill of exhilaration. That was how I felt today as I ran my last race of the year, I had hit a zone that was in a faster pace than normal and even though Eric had been just a few steps behind me for most of the race, I was able to pull away on the final half lap. I had surprised myself that I still had the energy to increase my speed and not only did I finish first, but I had beat my personal record by ten seconds.
Looking up at the stands and hearing my mother cheer for me, I couldn't help but be proud of myself. However, remembering that my father wasn't there, that he had chosen to work today for his big case instead of showing his support for me made me a little bitter, especially since he wasn't even in court today, he was just prepping. It made me wonder why I tried so hard to get his approval.
O
July 16, 2004 Chicago, IL
I stared at my hands, my ears ringing and I couldn't make sense of what happened today. Four hours ago, I had been informed that my parents had been killed in a car accident, and I was now sitting in a police station. I couldn't make sense of my world, or what was going on around me. All I know is that yesterday my father had finished his latest case and my mother had talked him into starting their weekend getaway a day early, since it was their 30th anniversary tomorrow. Only, they will never have their thirtieth anniversary … they will never have anything again, because they were dead.
I can't believe I had been happy this morning when my mother told me of their plans, I was looking forward to having some time to myself, where I didn't have to worry about my father getting on my case for one thing or another. I remembered the smile on my mother's face as she hugged me goodbye and suggested that I try to do something outside and not spend the whole time working on my piano. She knew me so well … no … she had known me so well.
My shoulders shuttered as I felt the tears come back to my eyes. I couldn't believe I was never going to see my mother again. She would never be able to hear me play the piano again, as I had often chosen to practice in the late afternoon knowing my mother loved to hear me play after she finished her work for the day. I would never get to have her cheer me on after I finished a cross country or track meets, she always seemed to find the time to be there for me when I had to compete. She won't be there for me when I graduate from high school in a few years. Or college. Or be at my wedding, if that ever happened. She won't be there for anything.
Belatedly, I remembered that my father wouldn't be there for any of that either, but I couldn't have been sure he would have cared to be there anyways. However, I regretted that I would never get to stand up to my father. I had been thinking about my life a lot lately, and I was starting to realize that I needed to take control over what I wanted. I needed my father to understand that he was not in charge of all my decisions and that I needed to make some of them on my own or it could never be my life. I was working up my courage to talk to him, and now I would never get that chance.
It was some time after I made that realization that a social worker came to talk to me. Informing me that my legal guardian, Richard Martin my father's partner in their law firm, was currently in Italy. I knew that information, both that Richard would be my guardian and that he was currently on vacation with his family and wasn't supposed to be back for a few weeks. That was why my parents would only be gone for the weekend, and why my mother wanted to leave early. Pain shot through me as I couldn't help but think, why couldn't they have just waited?
"Unfortunately, we have been informed that there is no one in the area to look after you, and we'll need to put you into foster care," the social worker continued to talk.
"What?" I gasped in fear … foster care. I would be in foster care?
"Edward, it will only be for a few days," the social worker said, her voice was soft and understanding, as she tried to sooth me but it meant little to me. "Richard has already informed us that he will try to fly back as soon as he can, as well as try to look into other means to get someone to help, but unfortunately for today, there is no other option. Unless there is someone you can think of that you would like to stay with. There might be a possibility for us to arrange that."
I stared at her for a few minutes until I could even comprehend what she was asking and then a few more to think of how to reply. I had friends from school, but no one that I would be comfortable staying with, especially now that I was so emotional. I shook my head as a response to her question. She gave me a sad smile and tried to reassure me that the foster parents that will be taking care of me were very nice. I just nodded numbly as I tried to keep up with what I had to do.
O
July 18, 2004 Chicago, IL
It was thirty hours after I had learned of my parents' death and I was still numb. I was still in foster care, the Petersons were very nice, though I only talked to them three times since I had arrived. The first time was when I arrived and Jill had encouraged me to eat the hearty stew she had made for dinner. The second was for breakfast in the morning, where she gave me a plate of eggs, bacon and toast. The last time was an hour ago for dinner, where Steve had made burgers. They had tried to get me to have a lunch but did not force me when I had said I wasn't hungry; unlike they had for the other meals.
I couldn't really tell you want happened during the times we at our meals, other than I chewed the food in front of me and it didn't make me gag. I know that Jill and Steve had chatted during the meal, and I know that the conversation was pleasant enough and open to me to join in if I wanted, but I never wanted to. I just wanted to be left alone, and they gave me the space I needed.
Now I was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep even though it was only seven o'clock. There was a knock on the door and I groaned as I turned away from it.
"Edward," a familiar voice said, and I quickly got out of bed and rushed to the door and opened it.
"Esme!" I gasped and then pulled my sister into a hug as she wrapped her arms around me, holding me tightly to her. It was a little awkward, I hadn't seen her in six years, and the last time we hugged she had been the taller one, and now she was a head shorter than me. And yet, it felt right too, like being held by her was allowing me to be able to breathe again.
"You're here," I said sometime later, still holding her.
"Of course I'm here," Esme said, her voice strained with the tears she had shed. "I wish I could have been here sooner, but I didn't hear the news until this morning. Then I had to go to court so that I could get temporary guardianship of you."
"Guardianship," I repeated the word and then I pulled her into another hug.
"Yes," Esme said pulling back so she could look into my face, and she wiped the tears off my cheeks, "I'm here for you."