PUNKROCKERRHCP

I am the compassionate mother. I wonder if my family is happy. I hear the love in my husband's voice. I see the world optimistically. I want to ensure the content of my family. I am the compassionate mother. I pretend that my bed on Isle Esme wasn't wrecked. I feel forever in love. I touch my husband's hands tenderly, the same way that he touched my heart. I worry about having to say goodbye. I cry no physical tears, but my emotions, they still remain. I am the compassionate mother. I understand that he'll always be true. I say that where there's kindess, there is hope. I dream no more, and miss it so. I try to see the good in

“Where are you taking me, Carlisle?” I laughed as he pulled me along, holding my fingers tightly in his. “You’ll see,” he responded, turning to look over his shoulder at me. His topaz eyes gleamed with excitement and he squeezed our twined fingers. I laughed again, and stopped protesting. I would go wherever Carlisle would lead me. The sun was shining persistently through a thin layer of clouds, and it made our pale skin reflect like diamonds; Carlisle’s hair seemed to glow in the early evening light. We ran at a pace that was just slightly above a humans until Carlisle finally pulled me up to the top of a sma

My eyes were closed, and yet I knew that I was lying somewhere in a forest. I could feel the twigs and leaves digging into my back, and the vibrations of the earth as the ants moved next to and below me. There was a rock in my closed fist. I knew where I was, but I didn’t know why. What reason had I for being here? I searched my memories, only to find that I didn’t have any. How strange. Slowly, I opened my eyes. However, instead of seeing the blue sky above me, I saw two images, both related and yet completely different. The first, a simple snapshot of a honey-blonde soldier, his eyes red and sad. He looked absolutely miserable,