January 28, 2009
I came here to write my thoughts as I often do, but I find myself confused. I don’t often find myself lacking the words with which to voice my thoughts, today however I find that words are inadequate. I have noticed changes taking place with Emmett, they started roughly two days ago, at least that is when I first noticed them. He has been far more quiet lately, appearing to be more introspective than before. My son, the guardian of our coven, has been…guarded, secretive and I don’t understand why. I have always respected my children’s privacy, but I fear that if he does not come to me soon I may need to go to him. It is clear to me that something is bothering him, something that he finds difficulty speaking of. Even Edward has told me that Emmett is actively blocking him and has been for almost three days now. Something is wrong.
January 30, 2009
I have no words. I am sitting here with one hand over my mouth and the other holding my pen as I write and I feel very…conflicted. Emmett finally came to me today, to my office at the hospital in fact. I have never seen him so unsettled. When he finally spoke to me, finally gave voice to his concerns I must admit that the only thing that kept me from reacting as a father is my training as a doctor. For my son to have seen the signs that led him to suspect abuse or neglect is troubling enough, but for the person he suspects it if to be Angela Webber…
I have met Angela a few times, the first of course being at the career day held at Forks High School. She is an intelligent girl, very sweet, very quiet. To think of someone willingly bringing harm to her or abandoning her is beyond my ability to comprehend. Emmett, of course, has taken it upon himself to be a big brother to her, to protect her and I can’t say I’m unhappy about it. I still remember the boy in nineteen-sixty-five, Sean Mullins. He was the only human in that school that Emmett got along with; he even brought him home once. I wasn’t certain what Emmett’s plan had been, but when we both discovered his abuse and I found the evidence of his internal bleeding caused by the repeated blows to his kidneys and abdomen…it was only by the grace of god and Rosalie’s tempering hand that kept Emmett from killing the man’s father.
To think of the same thing happening to Angela makes it very difficult for me to think clearly. For anyone to harm their own child is incomprehensible. Even the human parents who utilize corporal punishment make it hard for me to be civil. I understand the method and that the desire is not to bring harm, but that understanding doesn’t make me like it. I would never raise a hand to my children, not in that manner. Sparring, however, is a different story and Emmett has agreed to spar with me tonight. I need to work out my frustrations and Emmett wishes to talk more with me about his observations, somewhere that we can both be alone. He doesn’t want anyone else to know of his suspicions yet, not until he can either confirm or deny them.
February 2, 2009
It isn’t often that I bring my journal to work, or have it brought to me, but tonight I am unwilling to leave. My shift ended thirty minutes ago, but I am still here at the hospital sitting in the room that has always been kept empty. Tonight I found out exactly why it’s been kept empty by all the nursing staff. This room is reserved for Angela Webber. According to Camille – Nurse Marks, Angela has been coming here to sleep off and on since she was twelve. What twelve year old finds more safety and comfort in a cold hospital than they do their own home unless they’re being abused?
I had Esme bring a quilt down for her, Edward brought it instead and after reading my thoughts he has encouraged me to speak of this to Esme. It is not often that I keep anything from her, but just as with Emmett, I felt the need to have confirmation of her situation before I spoke to anyone else about it. I will talk with Esme tomorrow, or later this morning, we will decide together what to do.
Every now and then Angela will stir in her sleep, whimper or call out for someone; a few times I have heard the beginnings of my son’s name. She only sleeps peacefully when I hold her hand. This poor child seems so frightened in her sleep and I can almost feel the loneliness surrounding her. What has happened to this poor child and where is her support? Why is she sleeping in a hospital instead of at home? Why is she alone?