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'Disturbed Memories' – A Twilight Fanfic
By No Ordinary Cinderella
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Bella's POV
Prologue
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The past is filled with memories that should be happy, so that one day, you can reflect back on them and laugh. My memories were not filled with ones you can laugh at, nor ones you would be happy to share. My past was filled with tales that you usually read at bedtime. Not the fairytale endings, hell no, not with Cinderella finding her prince charming, nor the wicked witches or stepmothers that want to kill you as you in a jealous rage, my past wasn't even in dreamland, but of those in nightmares. Ones that I can never find myself to wake up, or to be found screaming and your mother or father is cuddling you and smoothing your hair and saying that 'everything will be alright…it was only a nightmare sweetie.' Truth is, I never even had a mother or father much. Nor did I have any other relative to be brought up by.
These padded walls were my sanctuary and the only room I felt safe in. They all thought I was barmy, they all thought I was traumatised, crazy, they all thought that I had a mental deficiency to imagine the things that I tell them. Only I knew that I was not crazy, I know what I saw and I was never going to forget it.
I was only six when it happened; one fateful day that turned my life around, just one second was all it took for me to be committed to Biloxi Mental institution. Locked up, caged inside four walls for the rest of my life, all for knowing that I was right in what I saw, there was no delusions, hallucinations or anything to do with my mind, I saw what I saw... they may not believe me but who would? Before then I had thought they were just some tales to scare little children, but it haunted me in the forever present at sixteen years old. Just ten years in this prison. They would not call it prison but I would. We were caged, we weren't even allowed outside, we weren't allowed to wander or roam freely, we never had a life, those in prison had a better life than we had.
Funny, how it had been just ten years, it seemed much longer then that. The silence was all I had left. No one cared about me, so why should I care for any others but myself? I still found though, when newcomers came to the institution, I would befriend them for nothing longer than a week to get them to their routine, pushed food there way when it was taken off them, I even comforted them, I never spoke to them though. Maybe they would be free one day, even though I wold never be.
Silence was the only defence I had against them now, to stop them from repressing my memories. I did not want to forget my mother or father, and my short life with them, I did not want to forget about the way they cared for me, I did not want to forget the only happy memories that lasted six years of my life, but most importantly, I did not want to forget the two people that spiralled my world out of control, who destroyed my life single-handedly, who crushed my dreams and then spat at my memories, no, I could never forget my parent's murderers, nor could I forget what they had done to me, and possibly to others. Solitude was the one thing in life that was constant, as the world around me changed.
Just to think I could have been happy, free, finishing off my sophomore year if my mother and father didn't smell too darn good.
Funny, how life can change with just one whiff of your blood lingering in the air for too long.
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Authoress' Note:
Slow start, but it is really a good story. For the question that you are all nagging to ask: this is not like my other story at all.