A Demon's Angel | By : InnocentLittleFlower Category: Twilight Series > AU/AR > Het > Het Views: 2952 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story. |
Everyone lives and dies once just like they have one past life, but I have died once and been born twice and just as I’ve been born twice I have two past lives. One where an angel lit up my world and another where I live as a monster that would sooner slaughter that angel than bask in her light. I try to forget the beautiful angel and her loving glow hoping that the memory of her would be clouded and fade away like the memories of that past life that died one hundred and forty-six years ago, but the memories of her never clouded or faded they have stayed crystal clear in my head for all this time. I can still remember like it was yesterday.
150 years earlier…
“Jasper…” A sweet a melodic voice called my name. I knew this voice it was one that always brought a smile to my face. It belonged to my closest friend and my father’s best friend’s oldest child and only daughter Lily.
I heard her footsteps on the hard wooden floor of her family’s home after the slam of the large white plantation house. Our fathers had been friends since boy hood and had built up their fathers farm lands into cattle ranches. Of course they worked their land when it pleased them but they had hired help to do most of the work for them. It wasn’t but a few moments later when Lily’s beaming smiling face turned the corner into the parlor where I sat with my father and hers. I stood quickly as she entered the room and bowed my head to her out of manners. Her chestnut brown curly q hair was partially pulled back with decorative hair combs so it was out of her face. Her blue eyes where bright with her smile as she saw me. She wore a sunny yellow dress with small blue flowers printed on it. She curtseyed as she stood in the door way as she panted she had obviously run from where ever she had been.
“Daddy, Mr. Whitlock” She spoke as she curtsied bowing her head.
“Lily look at you all out of breath” Her father nearly scolded her.
“I’m sorry father but I was coming home from picking flowers in the field and I saw Mr. Whitlock and jasper’s horses and I couldn’t help myself but to run straight here” Lily said looking at her father.
“A lady should never run unless there is danger” Her father said
“Yes daddy, I’m sorry I’ll try harder to restrain myself next time.” Lily said
“Very well” Her father nodded
“Where are your flowers” My father asked
“Huh?” Lily asked looking at my father her innocent eyes became confused.
I couldn’t help but snicker at how cute she looked so confused, she was just about to become a woman in society and she could be as forgetful as a child sometimes. I had nearly two years on Lily but the ages difference didn’t matter to us I never had any other siblings and our fathers where normally always in each other company so we had often played with each other and grew up together.
“You said you where picking flowers out in the field where are they.” My father laughed slightly at the sweet expression on her face.
“Oh my goodness! I must have dropped them as I was running here” Lily’s eyes grew big as she realized she lacked the very reason as to why she wasn’t here to greet us when we arrived.
Her father chuckled as well “what a misfortune some flowers would have been nice in the hallway, maybe some other time.”
“Jasper would you like to accompany me in the library?” Lily’s attention quickly turned back to me.
As we got older and had learned to read we often spent a lot of our time together in the library or in the field but she always had a book for me to read aloud to her. She knew how to read herself and it was one of her favorite past times but she claimed she enjoyed the books better when the words where accompanied by the sound of my voice. I gave her a slight nod and we both exited the parlor and walked down the hall together to the library in her family’s house.
Lily sat on the rugged floor with her sketch book and pencil in hand as she always did while I sat in a large arm chair reading aloud what ever book she had picked out. Today it was her favorite and most requested book Jane Austin’s Sense and Sensibility. It always took me several visits to finish this book and though I had read it to her many times her reactions where always made her seem like she was hearing the story for the first time.
“…Colonel Brandon was now as happy, as all those who best loved him, believed he deserved to be;—in Marianne he was consoled for every past affliction;—her regard and her society restored his mind to animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness; and that Marianne found her own happiness in forming his, was equally the persuasion and delight of each observing friend. Marianne could never love by halves; and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband, as it had once been to Willoughby….” I read aloud to her.
Lily looked up from her sketch book closing it but using her fingers to save her place. She never allowed me to see her drawings. She claimed her sketch pad was like her journal instead of documenting with written word she did so with pictures so I did not prey.
“Jasper…” Lily said softly
I looked up from the old worn out book in my hand looking down where she sat.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time I believe if I was ever asked to describe you I would have to describe you as a combination between Edward and Colonel Brandon.” Lily said her gaze turned from mine to the window as softness took over her face.
“Why do you say that?” Her sudden revel had me curious
“Because you have the sense of honor and understanding like Edward but you have the chivalry of Brandon.” Lily said her gaze never leaving the glass window.
“If that is so I would have to say you have both Elinor and Marianne in you, you are as romantic and free spirited as Marianne but hold the level head ness of right and wrong and unselfishness of Elinor. The last of these one would not expect from a girl your age.” I said to her closing the book and letting it rest in my lap.
“What do you mean by that not expected from a girl my age” Lily asked her eye brows knitting together.
“Lily you are two years younger than me your not quite a child but not yet a woman yet either most girls your age are just coming out of the selfish tendencies of a small girl.” I answered
“And you would know Jasper Whitlock; I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take a second look at any of the girls at parties.” Lily said her eyebrows separated.
“Unlike you my dear Lily I’m not one people flock to, every party that you attend you have every young man swarming around you like bee’s to honey, but yet instead of feeding into it like all the girls and most young women that are also attending the party you gracefully decline their advances and thank them for the flattery.” What I spoke was the truth I never had many girls seem to take interest in me but that was fine because my heart already belonged to someone. Lily was very beautiful and all the guys wished to be in her presence but she never let the flattery get the better of her she would just simply give them one of her sweet and kind smiles and thank them but could not accept she never gave a reason as to why.Lily was always kind and gentle never wanting to hurt anyone.
“Speaking of parties your going to save me a dance at the Weatherington’s party tomorrow right” Lily asked
“Has there ever been a party where you have not dragged me out on the dance floor” I chuckled
“I wouldn’t say dragged per say just more forcefully suggested.” Lily smiled
“Of cores Lily I will save a dance for you” I smiled back at her.
“Good” Lily continued to smile he sweet bright smile.
So here I stand once again in my study of my adoptive family’s house a demon of sorts remembering my sweet sunny angel that never fades. Her smile always fresh and sweet shines in my now golden eyes and her melodic voice echoes in my head. I turned and walked to a book case that once was a wall of the room and gently pulled down a book from the shelve. It was worn and tattered and looked like if touched it would crumble into dust. It defiantly did not fit in my collection of books. I turned the book over in my hand opening it to the title page that read Sense and Sensibility a Novel by a Lady. I turned the page so the inside of the hard cover was viable there written is the beautiful script of my angel it read ‘I will always be with you for like Marianne I too can not love with only half my heart. I will be waiting your safe return’
She had given me this book the day I left to join the confederate army with tears sparking in her eyes she handed over one of her most prized possessions. The book I spent so many hours reading to her over and over again for many years. Inside she had dared to convey the feelings we both shared for each other but where to frighten to speak to one another. What I never told her was that I had joined the army for her so she would be safe during this war her brothers where still boys the oldest only 11 years of age. Her father’s cattle were supplied to the army when needed leaving me the only man to protect her. One of the few things I do not regret when it comes to my memories of her is the letter I was able to write to her before I was turned. I had written it mere few weeks before the event. I was finally able to tell her my feelings for her and that I regretted I was never able to do so in person, and that if I returned after this war I would let her hear these feeling spoken from my own mouth I would also tell her father how I felt and hope he would allow me to have her, but if the worst possible outcome where to happen I wanted her to live on marry a good man and have a beautiful family that would have her kind sweet heart and good morals to help them stand tall in life I signed it Forever yours Major Jasper W. Whitlock. I to this day have never searched to see what the out come came of my angel. Today I was going to change that maybe if I tried to find out these memories would finally fade away. I closed the old book and put it back in its spot on the shelve and went to my desk starting up my computer and began my search for my angel.
I pulled up an old newspaper that had a small article with the heading ‘Hawkins Girl Murdered’ next to the title sat a picture of my angel her smile still glowing threw the window of the old news paper. The date on it read April 15th 1866. This couldn’t be I remembered after I had gotten control of myself from being transformed I couldn’t stand her being in my head any longer so I was going to do the only rational thing that came to me at that time I was going to kill her. If she no longer lived on in life then the memories would fade. So I left Maria for a short time and snuck up to her window. It was the end of March…..
I slid her window up so I could climb through. I was in luck she was asleep in her bed and there wasn’t a single sound of life in the house other than the thumping of her heart beat. I quietly made my way over to her bed and peered down. It had been two years since I had last laid eyes on her. Her face was still beautiful and her hair still looked like fine silk. Under her hand rested the last letter I had written here and tears stained her pillow case. On her desk sat an open journal and in the crease of the binding was wedged a news paper clipping. It was a large clipping reading ‘Confederate Major Jasper W. Whitlock captured and killed by union soldiers’ I couldn’t help but snicker so the humans had explained my disappearance as being captured and killed. I looked back to my angel sleeping holding on to the last piece of me that existed in her world, a world I no longer belonged to. She was still morning for me, my still heart broke for her and I could not bring myself to kill her. I gently moved a curl out of her face her skin was still as soft as a Georgia peach.
“No…Jasper… don’t leave me…” her soft pink lip murmured in her melodic voice.
I wished I could hold her again in my arms but if I was going to leave her alive I would have to leave now I was struggling as it was to keep my control around her she was the first human I ever held back from killing.
She had been murdered only a few weeks after I had changed my mind into not killing her to let her live no matter how much my memories of her haunted me. As I back tracked to my search engine again her name caught my eye in a local news article. It read about old civil war drawings and a few paintings that where thought to have been done by a young woman in Huston TX by the name of Lily Hawkins they where donated by a anonymous source and where going to be on displayed during a gala at the Memory Box Gallery owned by a Lily Marie Whitlock in Seattle Washington.
The thought of Lily’s art on display made part of me angry it was private it would be like displaying someone’s journal on the internet now a days but the other part was curious to see what had her drawing in that library as I read to her. After going back and forth about how wrong it was and how it was my last chance to see what she saw I decided I would go. I would keep my self control in tact that night and I would pay my respects to my angel that never got to live the life I fought for her to have.
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