Authors Note:
Hey guys, I know I've been a little off the grid lately but that's because I've been so into this new story I've come up with.
I wanted to focus all my attention on this because honestly it's my favourite that I've written yet, there's something about it that's made me really excited to share it with all of you.
I did actually want to finish it before sharing, because then I could make sure to keep updating regularly, but I'm just so eager to let you all read it that I decided to upload the prologue.
A few little tidbits of information before we begin, I don't know if I'll be having all of the Twilight characters featured in this, at the moment it's just Edward, Bella and Jacob. Also this story is set in England because that's where I'm from so I found it easier to just have England as the backdrop.
Please let me know what you think.
Thanks, and enjoy.
:) Broken -
Adjective:
1. Having been fractured or damaged and no longer in one piece or in working order.
2. Rejected, defeated, or despairing.
I am broken.
Chapter One
Seventy-four days.
I sit down in my usual spot on the stairs and listen as the raised voices continue, each shout louder than the one before. Everyone wants to have the last word so it carries on for what seems like hours, but I know it's only been minutes.
"Seventy-four days. Seventy-four days."
I repeat my mantra out loud but I'm quiet, I don't know why, it's not like anyone would be able to hear me over the shouts.
I listen to insults being thrown around and flinch at the fact that normal families should not be speaking like this to one another. I think about my friends families and the stories they tell me.
They don't know how lucky they are and I think that's what hurts me the most. The fact that there's kids out there who have a close to perfect life, and they don't even realise it. They don't even appreciate what they have. What I would do to trade places with them for even a second.
I stretch up towards the windowsill when I hear laughter outside and watch as kids run around chasing eachother, so full of life without a care in the world. I'm sure I was like that once upon a time but I don't remember any of it, that life seems too far away, almost like it didn't even happen.
My scarred teenage years have erased any moment of happiness I had as a child.
I'm seventeen which means I'm still very much young but I feel older. I feel aged beyond my years and not in a good way.
My own laughter echoes through the house. Look at me feeling sorry for myself, it's not even as if I've personally had anything bad happen to me.
If anything, out of everyone in my family I seem like the one who's had it easy. I'm never the one on the opposite end of an argument, I'm never the one being shouted at. I'm just the one who witnesses it all.
I'm the quiet, boring one. I play it safe because there's no other way to be.
The voices are louder now, one of my older sisters, Anne, has walked out the house, I hear something about her not being able to take this anymore.
Funny that, I don't think anyone can take this anymore.
I put my headphones in and try to drown out the shouts but it's hard to focus on music when you're worried that today will be the day someone gets seriously hurt. The worst thing is the arguments are so fucking repetitive.
Every single day I hear my family arguing about the same things over and over again, I don't know when they'll realise they're fighting a lost cause.
My mum promises that this is the last time, that things are going to be different, that she's done with all of us. I think I've probably heard those words a hundred times now, so they don't mean much to me anymore.
They're empty promises.
My eyes water but no tears fall. I can't remember the last time I cried, maybe it was one of the many times things fucked up here.
I refuse to let any tears fall in situations like this. I've cried too many times to realise that tears don't solve anything. I didn't even cry when I found out my family friend had died, or when the man next door who used to give me sweets died, or even when my uncle died.
Does that make me a cold hearted bitch? Maybe.
But it's how I see things now.
In the words of Tate Langdon:
'The world is a filthy place. It's a god damn horror show.'
Well Tate, you're fucking right. The world is a filthy place and so are the people in it.
I get up off the stairs and head to my room to get into my bed. Me and Anne normally share a room, but for tonight I'm alone and I'm thankful for it. I stare out into the darkness and wish it would just swallow me up, maybe then I'd be at peace.
There's only so many times a person can listen to siblings threaten eachother like they're enemies. Only enemies wish death upon eachother, only enemies say things like 'I wish you choke on your own breath.' 'You're a fucking joke, you don't even deserve to be breathing.'
Or maybe even enemies wouldn't be so cruel as to say things like that to one another? Maybe even enemies have respect for eachother.
Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.
I don't know who came up with that quote but whoever did was fucking stupid. Physical pain fades, words do not. Words are seared into your brain, replayed over and over until you feel as if you are losing your mind.
A few words can change your mood completely. Words are a lot more fucking important than people say they are.
I ignore the continued shouts, it's a skill I've mastered over the years now. My other sister Amelia always asks me how I do it. How I manage to block it all out, how I manage to stay quiet in a house full of loud people.
The truth is I feel empty. I feel like there's nothing left inside of me. Like I'm a vessel with a mind that's gone past the line of saving.
I don't tell her that though, I'd rather not share my feelings with her. She wouldn't understand, no-one does, which is why I prefer to keep it to myself. It's better this way.
It's not like I don't have best friends who care for me, I do. I have a few but I'm ashamed to tell them anything, I don't feel as if my problems are capable of being solved, so what's the point of burdening my friends with them?
I prefer to stay quiet and keep everything seperate, at least that way when I'm with them I can pretend my life is perfect. I can pretend that I'm happy and laugh at their jokes even though inside I'm broken.
Authors Note:
Did you like it? Please let me know!
