Disclaimer: I don't own twilight. Wish I did tho. But seeing how im about to fuck shit up, that may just be a good thing…
"And so, after Germany invaded Poland, World War II began."
My U.S history teacher droned on and on about the start of the war and the holocaust. I sighed. Apparently the school thought we didn't have anything better to do than sit around while the teachers force-fed us boring and useless information that wasn't even correct half the time. Well, the information was useless to me. The teachers weren't giving me any new material that I hadn't already learned at my old high school in Phoenix. I had been in the advanced classes there, and as a result, I was about a year ahead everyone else in Forks High.
I looked down at my hand, the one that had been doodling on my scrap paper for the last hour. The crescent moon-shaped scar was there on my wrist, fading but still prominent, seeming to glow in the light against my alabaster skin. That scar was not only a sick reminder of my horrifying past, but the reason why I had moved to the dreary town of Forks…
"Excuse me, Miss. Its closing time, I'm afraid you'll have to leave now."
I looked at the clock on the wall across the room from me. 9:00 already? I was going to have to learn to manage my time better. I gathered my books and homework and said goodbye to the librarian. As I walked outside, I saw a lone car, a shiny silver Volvo, parked right next to the library. When I walked past it, I caught a glimpse of a man sitting in the driver's seat. He appeared to be sleeping, but I thought I saw him with earbuds in his ear. I shrugged it off and continued walking home. As I got closer to my apartment building, I spotted another man walking on the sidewalk opposite me. He appeared to be quite drunk and was lagging behind, so I ignored him. When I reached my building, I fumbled in my purse for my keys.
Damn these large purses. Everything you're looking for always happens to be right at the bottom where you can't see them.
While I was searching for my keys, a hand snaked to my mouth, preventing me from screaming. Before I could run, the hand grabbed me and shoved me into the brick wall of the alley right beside my house. Breathing heavily and trying to forget the pain in my ribcage, I tried to muster a scream. Before I could utter a sound, the hand slapped me across the cheek. I stumbled back, tears welling in my eyes at the sting of the slap. I looked up into the face of the man attached to the brutal hand, and was shocked to realize that this was the drunken man that I had seen earlier tonight. He must have followed me home.
With a jolt a fear, I recognized the face. My knees began to shake and my breath hitched in my throat.
It was my abusive loser ex-boyfriend.
James.
"Now, now sweetheart," he slurred. "You shouldn't have left me. Come back if you want to live…" he said in a hushed tone that made shivers run up and down my spine. I tried to run, but my legs were paralyzed by fear.
"No." I squeaked out in a whisper, trying to muster the courage to run.
He growled then and shoved me back up against the brick wall by my throat, cutting off my air supply. I was clawing at his hands and gasping for air, but my efforts yielded nothing. I could see black spots in my eyes. I tried to shove him off me, but he didn't budge. In an effort to stop my resistance, he released my neck and slapped me again. I fell down, and he promptly grabbed me and dragged me back up by my hair. I whimpered in pain as he slammed back into the wall for the 3rd time. He pinned my wrists above my head as his other hand reached down to pop open the top button of my shirt.
"Now, bitch. I'm going to have you, good and hard. It's going to hurt like fuck; I'll make sure of that. If you shut up and do as I say, maybe I'll leave you alive."
Tears streamed down my cheeks at his words. I had no hope of fighting him off at this point; I was too weakened from my earlier struggle. He began to pop open the rest of the buttons, yanking them unceremoniously out of their holes. As he worked on my shirt, I realized that while my hands were rendered useless by James, my legs weren't. I aimed a good swift kick at his privates, but since it was too dark out for me to see clearly, I missed. James released a feral snarl, and in an attempt to further prevent me from trying to escape, he latched his sharp teeth onto my right wrist and bit down. Hard.
The pain was excruciating. A blood-curdling scream rent the air as it tore its way from my throat. At that moment, something large slammed into my attacker and knocked him off of me. I collapsed, exhausted, scared and sobbing, onto the pavement. I clutched my mangled wrist tightly; the skin broken and torn and bleeding profusely. I tried to ignore the feeling of blood flowing past the open wound.
"I will NOT throw up; I will NOT pass out" I chanted to myself. I needed to stay alert in the face of this immediate danger.
I heard some scuffling and loud grunts to my left. I looked over, and I could make out the faint outline of James on the ground, while another man (I assumed this was my rescuer; the thing that had flown into James as he bit me) sat astride him, pummeling anywhere he could reach. James tried in vain to shove him off, but his resistance grew weaker and weaker until the man struck a glancing blow to the head and he stilled. My rescuer stood, breathing heavily, and spat at James. He massaged sore knuckles as he stared murderously at the unconscious body on the ground, as though he was daring it to try getting up again.
As he regained his composure, I took a good look at him. He was tall and lean, with a hint of muscle beneath his fitted t-shirt. He had tousled hair that looked to be a shade of coppery bronze. It seemed to shine, even in this dark alleyway. And his eyes…his eyes were a brilliant shade of green that seemed to pierce through the darkness and straight into my soul. He looked familiar. My brain was exhausted, and was starting to slow down. I pushed harder, trying to remember where I had seen his face before.
Oh! He was the man I had seen in the car as I left the library. How did he know I was here?
A sudden wave of pain wracked my body. I squeezed my eyes shut and moaned. I felt light-headed and sick to my stomach. I reopened my eyes, and not without effort, to see the man kneeling beside me; a look of utmost concern displayed on his beautiful features. He spotted my ruined wrist, and he tore his shirt off and wrapped it around my wrist in an effort to staunch the heavy bleeding. A million questions were jumbled in my head. Who was this man? How had he gotten here?
Before I could make sense of my thoughts and formulate a proper question, I blurted out, "Who are you?"
"Edward Masen," came his smooth reply. "You're going to be alright."
His velvety voice instantly soothed me. I felt very safe with him here.
"Thank…thank you," came my weak reply. I was exhausted, trembling, and week; I could feel myself starting to lose consciousness, but I struggled to remain in the present.
"What's you're name?" Edward questioned.
My eyes fluttered, and I struggled to answer him before I fell over the edge.
I stuttered out, "Bella…Bella Swan."
And then I blacked out.
The shrill ring of the telephone sounded, jolting me out of my stupor. As the teacher answered the phone, I fingered my scar, trying to remember what had happened after I had told Edward my name. I didn't remember much (or at least, nothing of consequence).
I did remember waking up in a stiff hospital bed as a nurse fussed over my bandages. She told me that Edward had called an ambulance and the police had arrested James. I had asked her where he was, and she gave me a message from him, telling me that he hoped I felt better but had to leave for personal reasons.
They had discharged my later that day, where I was picked up by a frantic and hysterical Renee. She had nearly crushed me in her bear hug and sobbed into my shoulder. She always did know how to worry.
After the incident, she arranged for me to move to Forks, Washington to live with my dad, believing that the small town would be "safer". Within the week I was packed up and shipped off to live my new, boring life.
I hated it here. I missed Phoenix. I missed the sun and the heat. I missed my loving, erratic, hare-brained mother. But I had to admit that I did feel safer here, ensconced inside the tiny towns' limits and population of 3,120 people.
I wouldn't be going back to Phoenix anytime soon. My past still haunted me.
When the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, I grabbed my books and rushed out the door, not wanting to linger and get caught in the mad dash to leave the parking lot. As I hurried to my car in the ever-present rain, I lamented one thought in my head about the whole ordeal, replaying it like a broken record.
I had never seen nor heard from Edward Masen again.
Heyyyyyy readers,
Ummmmm….well this is kinda my 1st fanfic so obviously I have zero clue what I'm doing. This story kinda came to me as I was sitting, EXTREMELY bored in my study hall. I've always had really good story ideas, but I was too lazy to actually write them out.
Well, now I have, and I wanna know whatcha think so that I know whether or not I should continue to write.
Leave reviews, good or bad, but if ur gonna write a bad 1, gimme some constructive criticism, not just say "it sux", kay?
Well that's it for my little schpiel, and ill try to get the next chappie up ASAP. But im pretty lazy, so try not to hold it against me. (HINT: the more you review the quicker ill try to post!)