The Ups and Downs of a new Bella.
Age 5: She had a funny uncle. Played with her. Then moved with a 'tender' goodbye.
Age 13: Raped by a kid who was eventually caught. Spiked at someone's party, raped by a drunk college kid.
Age 15: Starts getting abused by Charlie.
I slammed the door shut, holding back the tears that threatened to expose my weakness. As quickly and quietly as I could manage, I gathered my toiletries bag, some underwear and my nightie, running to the bathroom and turning on the tap clumsily. I stripped myself of clothing swiftly and, the minute steam started bubbling up on the mirror, slipped into the water; I was instantly calmed. THIS was why I had a bath every night; to escape the fierce wrath of hate I felt, the burning desire to go punch something, the over-powering need to curse and insult everyone I saw. I sank down onto the floor of the bathtub and leant into the little amount of water that was enough to make my breathing slow. I closed my eyes and rested there for as long as it took the water to go past my head. Eventually that time came and now, much calmer, I sluggishly went through shampooing and rinsing and soaping and everything else to prepare for bed. I didn't do it without hurt, however. The bruises from a while ago were fading and didn't hurt as much but the new cuts did. At first he had backhanded my cheek, (which was still a faint pink) and that had enough power to send me onto the floor, from thereon I was just kicked. I had put myself into ball so my legs had taken most of the blow. Well, a good night's sleep would heal that, right? Right. I tried to make my fake optimism stay put but I still went to sleep worried. No one noticed my slight limp the next day and luckily Coach Clapp was sick. I got home and collapsed on the sofa, rubbing my legs gently. Dinner! Lazily, I stood up and moved into the kitchen to get a hot dinner steaming. I sounded enthusiastic, I wasn't. I was thanking whoever was up there, when Charlie got home, because I was clean, masked and he hadn't hit me yet. Then again, it was better to not be acknowledged rather than beaten to a pulp. Unfortunately, Charlie called me. I ran down the stairs as quickly yet swiftly as I could manage. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and it took all my might not to run right into him. I stood on the bottom step and Charlie grabbed my jaw with his hand. I whimpered as his grip tightened but that only made him clench my chin harder.
"You honestly think I would eat that? It's a cold as fuckin' ice!"
He screamed. Charlie led me down the step, his hand still on my jaw, and pushed me into the kitchen.
"Go warm that damn food up now!"
He yelled. I did what I was told and turned to face him as the 2 minutes on the microwave clock ticked. A punch headed toward my rib and I yelped when it made contact. One of his hands constricted around the back of my neck and pushed me onto the floor. I willingly fell and he knelt beside me. His hand whacked the side of my face in a slap and another gripped my arm tightly. He turned me onto my back and rest his knee on my stomach, digging it in so it felt like my abdomen was being pushed out through my back.
"Don't you dare serve me cold food again, you hear me? Do you hear me, Isabella?"
I nodded vigorously and he roughly brought me up to my knees. I got to my feet using help from the sofa and leant there for a few minutes. His food beeped and I walked to the microwave re-serving his food. 'Now get out.' was his kind reply when I'd set his food on the place mat in front of him. I listened happily and disappeared up into my room. Again, I had a bath and easily zonked out reading Romeo & Juliet. The next day went by exactly the same, up until I got home. It was 4:40pm. Charlie's dinner was just about ready and would be the perfect temperature for when he got home in twenty minutes and I'd just changed into some more revealing and comfy clothes (other than the long sleeved, neck covering crap I had to wear in order to cover my bruises). I heard a quick knock on the door. Crap. I did not permit visitors. If it was Jessica, she'd be dead; I'd told her so many times not to come to my house. When I walked toward the door I found that, as a matter of fact, it wasn't Jessica. It was, instead, Edward. I hid slightly behind the door but when I saw his innocent eyes but I couldn't help it – I let him in.
"H-hey, come in,"
I stammered, trying to hide the confusion from my voice and I did, but only for the worry to seep in. What would the consequences be if Charlie found out I had a visitor in the house? I didn't know what to think of having Edward in my fathers' house, especially with what had happened in these rooms, with my past beatings. Edward walked in and nodded his head with a murmured thanks. He and I weren't the closest of friends and that was mainly because I tried to keep my distance from him. You see, I like Edward, and I'm not the kind of girl to walk up to someone and bluntly say I like them. I just hid in the background and tried to ignore my feelings for him, my focused stare at something other than him, slipping every once in a while. He was... different, and that was what made me all that more fascinated by him. He kept to himself and although almost every other girl had asked him out at one point I never actually heard him say 'yes' to any of them. That made me hesitant toward him but conversation was always struck when we had to sit side by side in Biology. Of course, we had exchanged emails and numbers and addresses at some time, though I never dreamt that here he would stand, in front of me in my hallway.
"Erm, so wait... I-I don't mean to sound rude or anything but, w-why are you, erm, at my house?"
I asked him after I shut the door, feeling conscious of the skin that was bruised and battered on display and the quick ticking of the clock.
"Oh, right, yeah, erm... Well, I guess I got curious as to what your house looked like."
He replied, looking down. I saw his eyes skim the skin of my arm and I quickly crossed my wrists behind my back so he couldn't see my arms. I looked down and bit at tongue, scared to dismiss him. But I had to - if Charlie found out he was here I would be somewhat close to dead. I walked past him and he pirouetted so his back was against the door. I took my place in front of him..
"Look, Edward. I... I think you should leave... It's just, I don't think, well, my dad might not be so happy you're... here. It-it's not the right time, o-or place."
I gulped, my eyes never leaving my shoes. He nodded understandingly and I saw him approach the door. I felt so horrible doing this to him but it was for his own good. I didn't want his blood on my hands. I was shocked to find moisture in my eyes, I shouldn't be crying over a small task like this. I brought one of my hands up to wipe it away but the loose sleeve fell back when I reached up to my face and the fresh, purple bruises we're revealed more so. I peeked up and Edward was looking at the purple skin incredulously.
"Bella? Bella, what happened to your arm? I mean, it's faintly yellow and you have a rather big bruise, there... Are you, are you okay?"
"Yes, yes! Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for your concern..."
I said, quickly. His hand was on the door handle but then to make matters worse, Charlie's damn car and headlights were coming up the road. I mentally cursed and took action immediately.
"WAIT! Edward! Hold on a sec! You can... erm... go up into my room! Yeah, into my room!"
Charlie wouldn't go up there so he shouldn't assume that on this one day Edward was camping out in my bedroom... I ran to Edward and tightened my grip on his hand, removing it from the handle; I was shocked by the small tingle that ran up my veins when I made contact with his skin. With a rough shove I started him toward the stairs and gave him a look to carry on. Luckily, he did and he quietly disappeared into my bedroom. I ran into the kitchen, flustered, and was just getting Charlie's chips and fish cakes onto his plate when I saw him walk into the kitchen. I shoved the plate into the microwave and set it up for 30 seconds, gathering a glass of water and some cutlery for him along the way. Eventually, I put his food down and concentrated on not looking hyperactive and fidgety. He didn't say anything when he started eating so there mustn't have been anything wrong with it. I bit my lip and headed for the stairs as calmly as possible. I was passing Charlie as he ate and he directed his foot to my shin with such force it felt broken. I gasped and fell to the floor, quietly whimpering in pain. A satisfied chuckle came from Charlie's mouth and he stood up with his plate.
"You know, this food ain't bad. Glad you learnt your lesson, kid."
He said, and he started walking to the living room. On his way by he purposely stood on my hand, pressing all his weight down on it. I squeaked and he kicked me in the gut a few times, my yelps only making it hurt more, before leaving me on the floor. 3 deep breaths later I was able to stand up and limp upstairs, gritting my teeth harder every time I put weight on that leg. I opened the door to my room and when I was in, shut it enthusiastically. I leaned against it and sank to the floor panting angrily. I always cried when I was mad and now no one was here to see so I just cried quietly. I gasped, suddenly remembering Edward. He stood, his back straight as an arrow, with one of his hands tracing the wood of my desk, mouth open. I didn't have the strength to put on a show after all these years so I let my head fall, ashamed. My eyes were still streaming with wetness and my legs were crooked on the floor, one arm clutching the hollow feeling in my stomach where Charlie had kicked me. I called an almost silent apology to Edward and I felt him beside me in the next minute. His arms hesitantly wrapped around me, careful not to hurt me further. No. This wasn't right. I shouldn't have needed to be comforted, even if I wanted it so badly. I squirmed slightly in his loose but gripping hug and he dropped his arms. I moved myself to lean against my bed, facing opposite him.
"I'm..I'm,"
I started, but I was cut off.
"I'M so sorry, Bella. I'm sorry I never saw it before. I should've known this was happening, the clues were all there."
He whispered, picking at his nails and looking away. I shook my head but bit my tongue. I didn't want us to fight. I didn't want to ruin our friendship.
"What are you talking about?"
I said managing a weak laugh. His fault?
"I know I'm right when I say I just saw and heard your father hurt you."
He said sternly. I looked down, not even trying to ignore it.
"You know, you-you should go."
I whispered, wiping my eyes. He nodded and stood up, walking across the room toward me slowly. When he was in front of me he knelt down so we were both looking in each other's eyes. I looked down and avoided his green, captivating eyes. Hesitantly, he brought his hand to my face and brushed away the wet tears that I'd left, leaving his hand to linger on my cheek and stroke it for a few seconds. My skin heated up under his tender caress and I felt like I was being electrocuted. He looked like he was deciding whether or not to tell me something and, without thinking about it, I looked up. I only got to look at his eyes for a swift second before he turned his head to kiss my cheek. His lips pressed just below the bone in my cheek and I didn't know how I was supposed to respond. My breath got stuck in my throat and my breathing cut off, completely shocked. After a moment, he pulled away and looked at me. I could see a gentle fire behind his eyes and I dropped my eyes to look at my knees, my blush still prominent.
"Bella,"
He said huskily. I looked up and into his eyes. Edward licked his lips and looked down, nervously.
"Bella, I'll only leave if you promise me I'll be able to see you again."
He bit his lip, his voice even huskier, and looked at me again. I nodded once. I tried to rack through my brains as to when he'd be able to come back and see me with something non-school-related.
"This Saturday. Edward, come here at 11am this Saturday, okay?"
I whispered, my voice sounding thick. He nodded willingly and reluctantly took his hand from my face.
"Bye Bella."
"Bye Edward."
We told each other. He stroked my hair just before he snuck out my door quietly. I prayed Charlie wouldn't hear the squeaky step on the stairs but knowing him, he'd be too immersed in his damn baseball. I tried to stand up and using the bed as balance headed to my window. It was still light outside and I could easily see Edward's face through his Volvo's window. He smiled at me solemnly and sped off with a small salute. I let myself fall against the wall and sat there for a few minutes before I took off to to the bathroom. While I was in the water I inspected myself. There were MORE bruises, small swelling on my arms and my left shin looked dented in my eyes. I sighed and leant back into the water. I struggled to get out of the bath correctly and fell onto my towel which I had carefully positioned on the floor. I sat there for a few minutes too and then I hurried through everything else, trying to make the tiniest movements possible. Even if it was to a lesser degree, everything was still hurting after ward when I crawled into my bed. I didn't even have to read to put myself asleep, but just faded off within a few minutes. The next day I did not even consider school. I slept in way past when I would have normally woken up and felt like I'd taken to several beatings last night. Oh, wait, I had! I covered my face with my arm and groaned loudly; there wouldn't be any Charlie here to complain about it. I sat up and made myself move. I still wasn't fully dressed or clean and brushed within the next hour and I couldn't find it in me to carry on. Still in my pyjamas I collapsed onto the sofa downstairs thankfully. By midday I was hungry enough to walk myself into the kitchen and make myself some food. I cooked a full English breakfast that Charlie could eat the leftovers for, if it was warmed up. I forced myself to jump out of my chair and get my sore self moving or I'd be even worse for tomorrow, which wouldn't be something I'd like Edward to see. It hurt but after swinging my arms around like a windmill I got used to the tenderness. To enjoy the next few hours before Charlie got home, I played Lava TV on full blast, singing along when Florence + The Machine or YouMeAtSix came on, and started cleaning the bathroom. When I'd finished that I moved onto Charlie's bedsheets and then the store cupboards and then I started flicking through old family pictures. That wasn't the best of ideas given my not-so-great past. When I came back from flashbacks the clock read almost 5:00. I ran downstairs and the soreness hit once again when I stood up. I heated up the English breakfast leftovers in a pan so that way he could help himself to (or I'd get him) seconds. I was only just taking off the beans and putting them on his plate when he arrived. I set it down and slowly walked upstairs after giving him time to speak. He didn't say anything, so neatly dodging him and his feet, I stiffly skipped up to my room. There wasn't a smile on my face but there wasn't exactly a frown on there either. It was only 5:10. I had five more hours of the day to fill. Five hours in the bath was a slight bit long for me, I could only manage two, so in these last three hours I would... finish yesterday's DT work. Ha! How boring and uneventful my life was! I settled down on my bed and ended up taking a good 4 hours to complete 12 sheets of developing ideas on how to make a desk. I got into the bath late but it was still a good hour before I went to sleep. I wasn't as stiff, and I slept fairly well. I woke up at 10am the next morning. 12 hours of sleep and I just couldn't be bothered to physically move myself until I reminded myself of a very special guest who would be here in 40 minutes. I sighed and reluctantly stood up to go get a grip. At 10:50 I was clean, awake and appropriately dressed. After I finished my breakfast I heard a casual knock at the door and leapt up to get it eagerly. I opened the door and there he stood. Edward Cullen was grinning at me crookedly with one of those "Thank the Lord," looks spreading on his face as he took in my almost healthy image at my door.
"Hey, Bella, you okay?"
He asked. He gave me another once over and I made room for him to enter the house.
"Er, yeah, I guess. A-and you?"
I said, leading him to the dining table and trying to dodge his inquiry about me. He sat down and looked up at me, a faint confusion lighting his eyes. I smiled at him and went into the refrigerator.
"Can I get you something?"
I called from behind the fridge door.
"Er, sure. Some water'll be fine, thanks."
He said. I peered down and got a bottle of stilled water for him and another for me. When I closed the door, I jumped at the small amount of proximity that was suddenly between us; he'd moved from the dining chair.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you..."
He muttered, looking down. I blushed and said 'No problem' to him quietly. He took a few sips of his water and then we went to my room. He smiled at me and sat at my desk chair while I placed myself on the bed opposite him. We sat in silence for a few minutes, both of us shyly looking down. I guess this was what I imagined our next meeting to be like, given I was crying on my bedroom floor the last time we'd seen each other. A few seconds later I saw him stand up and sit himself in the empty space next to me. With a quick glance at my face he reached for my arm. I let him have it. He slowly rolled my sleeve up my arm and I cringed the further up it got, more bruises able to be seen. I studied his face carefully but it was completely devoid of any strong expression. Every now and then there would be a small wince or he'd grit his teeth and tense his jaw. He stroked the discoloured patched of skin cautiously, his touch feeling feather-like and extremely soothing. I was scared to do anything; I didn't even know how to respond correctly.
"Bella, what happened to you?"
He asked hoarsely. I bit my lip and pulled my hand back just slightly. He looked up at me apologetically then and I swallowed nervously.
"You know what happened."
I mumbled, feeling like a child who'd done wrong. His hand was still on my arm and now he brought it down to my hand. He curled his fingers around mine and squeezed gently. I looked down at intertwined fingers.
"Bella, h-how long has this been happening?"
He asked, a hand still firm on mine. It was strange he was here. Edward, one of my all-time-loves was sat here on my bed, holding my hand and questioning my past. I considered what I would tell him; my whole history or just the past few years? I started whispering.
"Well, er, the Charlie stuff started a few years ago when I had just turned 15. I was scared to tell anybody for fear of getting into more trouble a-and, erm... Er, that was it!"
I'd nearly slipped in telling him about the other things but luckily I'd stopped myself in my tracks and didn't get anything else out.
"Anything else?"
He said, seeming to understand I hadn't told him everything he wanted to know. I didn't know if I should/could've told him.
"Bella, you can trust me. I'd never say anything if you didn't want me to! I'd like to help you, I want to make your life better, you just need to let me in."
He looked at me and I could tell he was telling the truth. I was still uncomfortable with him knowing anything else, yet I didn't know why. He squeezed my hand and called my name in. I still didn't want to say anything. Unfortunately, Edward could sense that much. He tenderly lifted my chin up with his other hand, our faces just 3 inches apart, and made me look into his eyes. Once I was looking I couldn't stop; his eyes were like green emeralds.
"Bella, what happened to you?"
He said, repeating the same question from earlier but expecting a different answer from the tone of his voice. He wouldn't let it go. And besides, if I DID tell him what would happen? I tore away my eyes from his, one of his hands still held my chin and used one of my hands to hold his and drew in a deep breath.
"I was 4 and half and my dad's brother, I called him Uncle Brian, used to babysit me if Charlie wasn't there when I came here for the holidays. He-he started to 'play' with me and when I told Renee she n0ever believed me. She thought I was silly so I didn't tell Charlie. And then, in Phoenix, I went to a house party once. There were only a few people I knew there and I'd left them to get a drink. I didn't know it had been spiked until I woke up alone the next morning in someone's bed, with my clothes and underwear on the floor. I didn't tell Renee anything when I got home because of Uncle Brian, just apologized. She didn't see the difference in my behaviour after that. Charlie, he had never been at all odd whenever I came to Forks and by then Uncle Brian had moved to New York so when I was 14 and a half I moved here so I wouldn't get in the way of Phil's baseball career. Charlie was fine for the first few months but I came home from a night out and he was drunk. He struck me across the face and seemed to find it funny. I was astonished and thought it would pass. It never did."
I finished. I looked up from our hands, into his eyes. We sat in silence for a few minutes and I worried that I'd scared him. He didn't look scared though, he looked ashamed and slightly murderous. I looked down again and his hands left mine. Instead he hugged me tightly and I hugged him too. He whispered fervent apologies in my hair repeatedly and I closed my eyes for a few seconds, just to bask in the glory of Edward Cullen hugging me, before I pulled away.
"Sorry."
I mumbled and astonishment matched his features for a few seconds.
"For what?"
"For having to involve you in my life."
"I'm involving myself. I'm sorry if you don't want me here but I won't go."
He licked his lips and shifted position, taking both of my hands in his and holding them to his heart. I would not be surprised if I was slapped by Charlie and woken up from this dream right about now. Who'd have though Edward Cullen would be holding my hand and apologizing to me. This was WAY too goo to be true.
"Bella, you're too important to me. I won't let you go through this when it can be stopped. We're gonna do something to stop this. I'm not going to let this carry on."
He said sincerely. I whispered a thank you that could hardly have been heard and leant into him shyly. He positioned himself so I was now sat in his lap with my head on his chest under his neck. He wound his arms around me and leant back on the headboard. We'd been sat in this position for a few minutes and I was falling asleep but there was always something inside me that would remind me of what my daily duties were. I didn't want to move from the safety of Edward's arms; inside them I felt safe and warm and protected, feelings that I would hardly ever come across. I wanted to let more happen between the two of us (whatever that meant) and for once just be irresponsible but even if he WAS willing enough to put himself in my life, I wasn't. I wouldn't involve him where it wasn't necessary, heck I wouldn't even involve him if it WAS necessary; I wouldn't ask that much of him. I thought this over a few times and while my eyes were roaming, I caught Edward's hand hesitate to hold mine. I smiled and pushed myself further back into his chest, his arms holding me tighter. He was cradling me in the sweetest way yet he was afraid that I wouldn't approve of him holding my hand? I'd let him kiss me if he wanted to, for goodness' sake! I didn't let myself think too much of that thought however; he'd never kiss someone as filthy and insecure like me. I was positive of it. These thoughts brought on a different side of me and I took my hand from my lap to place them over his. He was tightly hugging my waist with one hand and I casually played with his fingers on the other and observed the green-blue veins in his arms that matched the colour of his eyes. Eventually, I began to subtly pry myself off of him, slowly slipping off his lap. It worked fairly well. I sat in front of him, his knees against my lower back. He had leaned forward because, during my move I had kept hold of his hands therefore pulling him forward with me. He peered over my shoulder to look at what I was doing with his hands (NO DIRTY IMPLICATION WHATSOEVER!). He chuckled lightly and I closed my eyes dizzily. I sounded like every other swooning girl but his small and brief laugh had intoxicated me like 3 strong glasses of wine would not to mention the fan of his cool breath on my face. I blushed at my thoughts. A warm finger touched below my eye gingerly and I turned slowly to see him gazing at my newly-rosy cheeks. I blushed an even darker pink, silently cursing at my embarrassment when I did, after I felt his touch. I even went a dark crimson when he looked me directly in the eye, my focus locking on his eyes intently. A crooked and handsomely lopsided grin came across his lips. I couldn't help but nervously giggle when he did. Boy, did he have me head over heels. And then nothing happened. He just looked at me with a crooked smile that made my heart pump while I kept my eyes nervously off of his. I knew if I caught his gaze he'd be able to make me do anything. After a while Edward, with more enthusiasm than before, took my hand. He played with it like I did with his; looking at my veins, playing with my fingers, smiling wider at my plain, unpolished nails.
"How are you feeling?"
He grinned.
"On the inside or the out?"
"Both"
He said. I pondered around that thought.
"Well, I'm definitely improving. I can feel that much."
"I'm glad."
He said huskily. Unfortunately, it wasn't long before guilt started to sweep through my insides. I tensed and fisted my hands to savour my strength. My clenched fists sat in Edward's hands and I could just feel the confusion roll in him yet, in the sly, unnoticed glance at him his face showed only patience and calm. I didn't know how to start the next part without sound unappreciative or spoilt. A few more deep breaths and sideways glances at him, I turned to directly face him. I kept my face down, ashamed at the dismissal I'd be giving him. I fidgeted nervously. How I got so worked up over this, I didn't know. All I was going to do was kindly reject his offer and send him on his way, why was that so hard? Why was I nearly in tears? I closed my eyes.
"Bella, what's wrong?"
Edward asked. Confusion, calm, care and honesty all coloured his tone. See, THIS was why he shouldn't have been here: he was wasting his time.
"Speak, Bella!"
He nudged, kindly. I sniffled and then looked up determinedly.
"Why are you here?"
I whispered, a crack in my voice. He was instantly taken aback and I bit my lips, eyes darting back to my bed sheet again. I heard a few exhalations from him and then he replied.
"Well, Bella, I'm here because I'm worried about you. I don't want to see you hurt."
Now I was taken aback by his answer.
"But-"
"Please, Bella! Just let me help you for now! I promise that I'll leave after ward but you must be crazy if you think I'm going to abandon you when you most need it!"
He cut me off with some very good points and I looked at him, surprised. I was heart-felt by the fact he was stubborn enough to insist he'd help me. But that's where I was stuck.
"Edward, I'm not saying I WANT you to leave, I don't, but... you, you NEED to leave me. I-I want you here but I'd just hate to think what would happen if Charlie found out o-or just if something went wrong in all this. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you if you involve yourself in my life. Besides, I can take care of myself."
I murmured, even if I still kept my eyes right on the bed spread below me. I was pouting now, and of course, I'd started tearing up (my voice broke 3 times when I replied).
"No, you can't."
He said bluntly.
"I don't CARE, Bella, if something happens to me. I CAN handle it, but you-you don't deserve this. You should not be going through this alone. And I'm telling you now, I won't let you."
"Well, how exactly are you going to help me if I don't let you into my house any more?"
"I'll call the police.
"I'll hide the evidence.
"Who said YOU were the only evidence I had?"
"Edward!"
"Bella!"
We both shouted exasperated. I wasn't happy enough to let him win this argument but if he carried on I just might've... I looked at the clock and jumped slightly when I saw the clock hands read 1:30pm. Edward and I had been here for 3 hours? It didn't seem that long to me. Charlie would be home in 4 hours. I needed to do something, anything. I leapt off the bed leaving Edward confused in the middle of the mattress. I bit my lip and he got off the bed to stand directly in front of me.
"Charlie may have double the fun tonight... I won't go. Even if you push me out your door."
Again, he consisted in staying here. With a rough nn-nn, I pushed past him and started tugging him down the stairs. When we were back in the kitchen I stood him in the corner of the room and put together a sliced-chicken sandwich. I shoved it at him on a plate and his brow creased.
"It's your lunch. There's some juice or bottled water in the fridge. I'm not having you stick around and get hurt; you can disappear after that, please."
I mumbled, already pulling out utensils from near the kitchen sink. I winced at my low crouch when I dropped a large spoon, which sent a sharp shooting pain through my leg and all the way up to my hip. I also heard what could only be described as a growl come from behind me. When I turned my head I saw the disappointed face direct the food and then me. He was disappointed with me? Why?
I exhaled and went among my cooking duties.
"Bella, why did you just serve me lunch?"
He sighed from behind me. I turned around to face him directly with a small, upset pout. Once again, I gasped at the small amount of room between us. He was peeking over my shoulder with a face of distaste and my pout turned into a grimace.
"Food is needed for everybody."
"Well, you must be wonder-woman because you don't have any..."
I snarled and before I knew it, he'd pushed me down onto a chair and had my foot balancing on his shoulder while he crouched in front of me. My eyes widened in shock and by the time I had registered the fact he was rolling my jean leg up it was already below my knee. I shouted more than a few protests but even then he continued. The further up it got, the worse. I wasn't happy all my secrets (bruises) were being shown to Edward Cullen. I closed my eyes and in these split seconds I'd bitten my lip so bad I could taste blood.
"Edward, please! Just- don't!
I urged. All I got in response was a demanding hush. Cringing at everything he'd soon see, I gripped the chair tightly. Eventually, the jean was high enough to reveal the pulsating, purple-y black bruise just above my knee. I was only just okay with him seeing the small, fading yellow spots on my neck and abdomen but the purple and green patches: not at all. So, now I was sat in a chair with my jean leg exposing my leg and Edward crouched in front of me, the both of us gaping at a purple patch on my leg. I cursed mentally and quickly fumbled around trying to hide my skin again. I heard him sigh and move to sit on the chair opposite me. He sat there with his head in his hands while I instantly jumped up to keep my hands busy. I did something so that I could still keep my eye on him. It started to get to me when he didn't move at all. I sat next to him. It had been a while since he last moved and he wasn't acknowledging my presence in the slightest. I gently put my fingers on his shoulder and tightened my grip. I felt slightly mad at myself for not knowing what I wanted.
"Are you okay?"
I mumbled feebly. He groaned unbelievingly and suddenly turned toward me.
"Bella, you're so naïve! Why are you discussing MY health when your leg's purple?"
He whined upsetly. All I could see on his face was frustration. He closed his eyes warily for a few moments and grabbed the hand I had resting on his shoulder. He held it delicately in his hands and soothed it for a while. All I did was stare and with his face I could've stared all day anyway. He didn't look at me or stop rubbing my hand when he spoke.
"We need to go to the police."
He said, enunciating each word clearly. When he peeked up at my face I looked completely flabbergasted and I was.
"No. No! I can't do that! He-he's my dad! No! I'm not turning him in!"
I shrieked. I was not ready or at all prepared to tell my dad's own friends I had been physically abused by him. Now, how stupid would that sound?
"You have to! He has been hurting you for THREE years! I'll do it with you! You'd have nothing to worry about when you get home! Bella, you just have to trust me!"
He said, trying to reason with me.
"I want to, I do, but I can't!"
I pleaded with him. He didn't understand that I DID want to trust him, but that if I trusted him not everything would turn out nicely. I may have gotten my life back but I would have taken away his. I glanced at the clock. It was 2:15pm. Gosh, was time going by fast! I had a little under three hours to do everything and I wanted at least a little time of peace and quiet... I looked up at Edward nervously. He hadn't responded and I just imagined he was angry but when I looked up at him now, he was fiercely determined. I stood up from the dining chair quickly and snarled internally at the quick zap of hurt I felt. Moving slowly and carefully I took another painkiller tablet, opened the front door a bit and got some potatoes out the pantry. I set them on the counter and got out a chopping board. I saw him stand in my peripheral vision and moved a few more steps away from him slyly. He started slowly pacing while I sliced the potatoes and for a few minutes I just ignored it. He, however, made his pacing so incessant that I couldn't not look at him any more I sighed and fully focused on him, abandoning my half-chopped 'taties.
"Could you leave? Please?"
I mumbled, ashamed. He stopped dead in his tracks and gripped the counter.
"Bella, I don't want it to be like this."
He said quietly, his gaze on the floor looking somewhat embarrassed.
"It wouldn't have ever been any other way. I knew I wouldn't be able to involve you in my life."
I said, lowering my head too. It made me hate myself – the fact that I was actually doing this.
"Well, what if I never knew about this? What if, on Thursday night, I left before Charlie had come home? What if I just didn't know? Would it be different then?"
He questioned, hope hinted in his words.
I shook my head.
"No. That Thursday night you would have left without suspicions and we'd only ever see each other in school. And that is what's going to happen. You're going to forget, and that'll be it. Nothing more."
I said. And I really meant it. That was all it was.
"Well, what if I don't want to forget?"
He said, trying to push an optimistic response out of me. I couldn't respond to that, at least not honestly and I wasn't cold-hearted enough to lie to his face. I just felt like collapsing. All those months of five hours' sleep were seeming to haunt me and I gripped the solid support of the counter. My breathing quickened and what I thought was only a small dizziness seemed to be a passing out in reality.
"Bella, Bella? Bella, talk to me!"
I was too tired of holding onto all this crap so, for once, I just let myself fall down. And down. And down. And down. I felt like I was floating and honestly, it felt LOVELY. I suddenly felt a wild shake run through my body. My eyes fluttered in the tiniest and I moaned at the interruption of my amazing unconsciousness. I shook again and opened my eyes angrily to pools of bluey-green, staring tiredly at the slightly blurred eyes that were the only things I could see. I saw a smile wrinkle under his eyes before I started to fall back into unconsciousness.
"No! No! Bella, stay with me!"
I groaned. This wasn't right; I had larger problems at hand. I took, what I hoped to be a few deep breaths and willed myself to open my eyes. It worked. I was looking at those eyes again, clearly, and for a few moments I we just stared. I was nervous to admit that in those few minutes I felt like I was in a trance and looking through his eyes, I could see further down, all the way down to his soul.
"I'm here."
I promised solemnly. He looked me up and down warily for a few minutes and, when my face didn't falter, he breathed a sigh. I blinked a few times and felt around. I was on something soft, not the cold hard linoleum of the kitchen floor. It felt like the sofa. I was on the sofa? Hmm. Nothing was making sense. At all. Why was everything always so complicated? I squeezed my eyes shut so I could go into a dull darkness for just a few seconds.
"Bella?"
Edward whispered, close to my ear. The worry was evident in his soft voice and my hands fluttered around in search of his. Eventually, I felt his soft skin and long fingers tangle with mine. I had no idea what I was doing. I should have been mad at him in the very least and now I was looking for his hand? I hated myself for being like this. I wasn't the kind of person to play people around and that was exactly what I was doing right now. I wanted to slap myself. Could I, at least, stop hating him one minute and then adoring him and longing for his the next? Grr. I bit my lip and randomly felt my hand lifted, something soft and tender hugging a small patch of skin on the back of my hand. When I peeked I saw Edward just take his lips off my skin and I blushed a fire engine red. I smiled shyly, temporarily forgetting the guilt in my throat. I closed my eyes again and sighed gently to compose myself. When I opened my eyes, fresh guilt weaving its way through me, I saw Edward's eyes focusing on a particular spot on my neck. His stare stayed there until his eyes suddenly met mine. I swallowed a thick sheet of cowardice and cleared my throat.
"Sorry,"
I whispered, fidgeting around.
"No problem."
He murmured. Slowly he moved his hand to my forehead and started stroking my hair back. The fire engine rush that was slowly fading regained its colour and I looked away, embarrassed. I was sure that I saw one of those blinding grins on Edward's face but it was so fast that I guessed I imagined it.
"Why are you doing this?"
I said, hoarsely.
"We've been over this."
"No, no. I mean why are you here after how I've been treating you? One minute I'm rather furious at you and now I'm just, not."
He sighed and shook his head. When he looked up at me his expression was rather sincere.
"Bella, it wasn't like I expected an open-armed welcome. With what's happened to you I was kinda ready to fight for you whatever you said. If it got to such a point where I WANTED to leave, well, I knew I'd never feel like that so..."
I smiled and nodded an honest thanks. I tried to sit up and, with a little assistance, managed it. I didn't know what to say, or do, next. I looked at him as apologetically as I could trying to portray the fact I really WAS sorry and that was something I didn't think he understood fully. He looked back at me with a sheepish smiled and I returned it with lesser enthusiasm, looking down again. He sighed. It wasn't a fed-up sigh but more like a not-gonna-give-up exhale.
"What did I say?"
He muttered, sounding angry at himself.
"You didn't say anything. I think.. I guess it's just YOU."
"Me?"
I shook my head, feeling silly, and stared at the fabric of my jeans.
"I don't want to be a problem."
He said. His words screamed honesty.
"I don't want you to be a problem either."
I said nervously.
"Well, why am I? What did I do?"
He challenged. I paused. He was only a problem because of my insecurity and fuss.
"Because you've seen too much."
I mumbled, afraid to meet his eyes.
"Because I care for you."
He amended. And it was true.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be, Bella."
I turned to look at him but thought better of it and left my eyes focused on my legs.
"I want to accept it, really. But... I just.. I'm not used to people giving a damn about me. If something seems to good to be true, it usually is."
I murmured, mainly to myself.
"Take a risk. Accept it and see how it'll piece together. I DO give a damn about you and I bet a few other people do too. Just take it in. For once bathe in the glory rather than stare at it."
I smiled at his words as he started to run circles over my hand.
"I don't trust myself enough to trust you."
I said, pausing. I looked up at him with broken eyes then and I hoped he could see the fear behind them.
"Do you promise to stay with me?"
I whispered. My heart seemed to tighten and my gaze darted away from his, focusing on the coffee table. I felt a tight pressure on my hand and, from the corner of my eye, saw Edward squeeze it.
"I'm here, Bella, I promise. I won't leave, I'll be with you."
He said, solemnly. His arms slid off the back of the sofa onto my shoulder and he pulled me closer into his side. My head seemed to hide itself under his neck and I marvelled at the perfect fit. He squeezed me tighter for a few minutes before lowering his head so he could look into my eyes. Slowly leaning forward, he kissed my forehead for a few tender seconds. His lips trailed from my forehead toward my hairline and into my hair.
"I promise, Bella."
He breathed on my scalp. For the first time in 3 and a half years I let myself believe and for the first time I felt honest hope. I exhaled and smiled slightly. I made myself get into gear. Now, I was determined to make it better. It would be MY turn for a happy ending and with a little help, I thought it might be possible.
"What are we going to do then?"
I pondered.
"What do you want to do?"
He said. I thought about that and pouted when I came up blank.
"I don't know. I won't turn Charlie in though, I couldn't."
I was certain about that part. I frowned in frustration, I always got angry at myself for not being able to get an answer. I needed something to do, something that wouldn't fry my brain.
but then an idea struck me. A really, really good idea. I ducked out from under Edward's neck and looked at him with eyes of excitement.
"I'm going to run, Edward. I'm going to run! Graduation is only a month away, I could take this for another month and when I'm finished with this I could run! I'll get a job in Port Angeles and rent an apartment and I'll run!"
It was great! I'd have to get started on houses straight away, it would be difficult to find somewhere to stay with only 4 weeks advance. But my enthusiasm died away when I saw Edward's face. He looked reasonably happy but I could still see the twinge of disapproving and worry in his perfect features. I gave him a look to explain and he sighed.
"I'm sorry, Bella, I'm not letting you take this for another month. A week maybe, but nothing longer than that. Please."
He begged, his arm tightening around my shoulder protectively, involuntarily. He couldn't take a month of me getting hurt? I was rather shocked at the extent to which he cared and I looked at him, puzzled. His face only said the same things as his words; please. And okay, I wasn't that happy with that part of my idea but so, what? We all have to make suffer before we get the good stuff, right?
"But it's only a month. It's honestly not that long if you think about, just 3 and a half weeks. No worries; I can take that much more."
"I don't think I can."
He whispered apologetically, looking down at me worriedly. I didn't really respond to that, just looked up at him nervously. I exhaled, defeated. A peek at the clock from the corner of my eye told me it was 3:00pm. 3:00pm? Oh, god! I sprang off the sofa grimacing at the shooting pains and quick stars I saw but still made my way to the kitchen. I thoroughly rubbed a steak in some packaged marinade and let it set for a few minutes while I finished chopping the potatoes.
"What are you doing?"
Came a voice from behind me. I jumped and half a potato dropped onto the floor. I bent to pick it up and grimaced, it'd be fine if I rinsed it.
"Erm, I have to get Charlie's dinner done. He'll be here in an hours time or so."
I said, distracted in not getting spicy marinade in my eye or on my clothes. I heard the tap and saw Edward wash his hands then walk toward me. He took the bowl of potatoes I'd set aside and I looked at him exasperated. He smiled at me and started to rinse. My eyes widened and I protested quickly.
"No, no, you don't have to do that! It's fine!"
I prattled, trying to get as much of the marinade off my hands and into the bowl.
"Bella, you're juggling with 5 knives. Just let me do something."
He said, sternly. I looked at him with a face as thankful as I could manage. He chuckled for a few seconds and shook the water off the potatoes in a colander. I prepared a tray with foil over it for the steak and put it in the oven; it'd take longer than the potatoes. I got started on making a simple gravy while Edward, as if he could read my mind, boiled the potatoes. Every now and then when I'd look at him he'd be in a deep thought that I was too nervous to interrupt. I was wiping down the dining table, potatoes on the boil, steak in the oven, when Edward said something that made my heart nearly crack my ribs.
"Bella?"
"M-hmm?"
I paused and looked at him. He took a deep breath and his eyes avoided mine.
"Live with me."
I blinked and stammered disbelievingly for the next few seconds before I made an effort to calm myself. I managed it but my speech was still incoherent. He warily walked towards me and made me sit down, taking the chair beside me.
"No! No, no way. I-I can't. I won't. No."
I mumbled breathlessly. And that was exactly right, who was I to intrude on his life? I wasn't going to live with him. It wasn't like I didn't like him, in fact I felt exactly the opposite, but I wasn't in such a position where I could just go and live with somebody happily; there was more to it than that for me. My scarlet face took a peek at my companions – he was looking down with a regretful face and seemed to be muttering at his mistake that made me hate myself for refusing so quickly. I composed myself and started to apologize.
"I'm sorry, you don't-"
"It's okay, Bella. It was stupid of me to ask, I should've known better."
I shook my head, clearly confused.
"No, no. I WOULD, but like everything else, I don't think I can. I mean, it would be rather awkward..."
He laughed bluntly.
"It's not like that. I don't really live with my parents. When we got our house it was kinda like a farm in the middle of a rainy city. My mother, Esme, transformed it into some, huge, modern building. She knows I like reading and stuff so she made me a separate part, completely detached from our house, with all my books and things. Over time I spent so much time in their my bed and wardrobe and other crap got moved. It's small, but there's space and you wouldn't even be talking to my family much anyway."
I gaped at him as he chuckled his way through those few sentences. I couldn't really imagine it. So he had a really modern, large house and then at the side a teeny, tiny, one-roomed apartment which was a 2 metre walk away? With books? It sounded amazing and I really wanted to see it, but I thought better.
"I wouldn't feel right. I can't. I'm sorry."
I said, shaking my head disbelievingly. Here I was turning down the offer to go live with someone I had fantasized about since joining school. I stood up gently and slowly, standing still to let the dizziness fade for a few minutes,