CHAPTER ONE:

"Ella!" he shouted. He didn't refer to me "Bella" anymore because Victoria called me that. "Get down here! I need beer and dinner!"

"All right," I called back. I ran down the stairs and tripped on the last one. "Ouch," I mumbled, holding my knee.

"Get in here, Isabella!" James screeched. I supposed he was my biological father, but we looked nothing alike. He had sky blue eyes and blonde hair, and his wife, Victoria, had fiery red hair and moss green eyes. Me, well, let's say I had plain brown everything, except for skin. I had ashy white skin, and some people would say that I was malnourished- which wasn't far from the block. They mad my life a living hell.

I was thirteen when everything first started. James had slapped me because I'd cooked his steak the wrong way. I'd cried, and he'd screamed at me, which made me cry more.

I was now fifteen and was looking for my birth father. I looked through every file I could without James or Victoria finding out. I didn't need the rapes or abuse.

I made James' dinner and ran back up to my room and opened my laptop; good, my previous page was still up.

Aha! I found him! I looked up the address and found it was only about three hours from my home in Seattle. I quickly packed a suitcase of my valuables- a few books, my iPod, and my laptop. Clothes weren't important, but I grabbed some and my secret stash of money; I had nearly four thousand dollars saved up.

I hid my things in my closet and sat in my bed. I lay down, trying to get a few hours' sleep before I ran away. I set my alarm for one o'clock, and I soon fell asleep.

OOOOO

Too soon, my alarm was waking me up. I groggily got up and shut it off. I shook my head to lose the sleepiness. I sprinted over to my closet and grabbed my duffel bag. I grabbed my phone off of my nightstand and my sock with my money in it.

I went to the bathroom and got cover up to cover the bruises that littered my face, neck, chest, and arms. I applied it and tip toed down the stairs. I opened the door, wincing at each sound it made, but I made it out. I called the taxi company and gave the driver directions to Charlie's- I found out that was his name- house. We made it there in about four hours- the taxi driver drove at, like, thirty miles per hour.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he stopped in front of a little white house. It was nearly five A.M., but I didn't want to wake him. I paid the driver and walked onto the front porch. There was a swing there, and I laid down on it. I sighed, and tears sprang to my eyes. A few fell down my cheeks. And then another fell. Soon, I was full-blown sobbing. I cried for what James and Victoria did to me, I cried for not having a proper family, I cried for not knowing I had a real father.

I was still crying when I heard the door open. A man with peppery hair and moustache came out in a bathrobe. "Bella?" he asked incredulously.

I nodded, still crying. "I didn't want to wake you up," I said, sniffling.

"How long have you been up?"

"Since one. I had to get away from them for me."

"Away from whom?" Charlie asked.

"My, um, parents. At least, they told me they were my parents, but I never believed them. I don't look like them at all." I laughed bitterly at my stupidity.

But then I started crying again, and Charlie raised a hand to stroke my hair. I flinched away. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I repeated in a mantra.

"Oh, honey, what did they do to you?" Charlie said to himself. I recoiled from the question.

"Can I… I mean, may I come in?" I remembered my manners at the last minute; I didn't know if Charlie would hit too. It was important that I not be hurt anymore.

"Yeah, come on in. I don't have the extra room ready because, of course, I didn't know you were coming. You can come and lay in my bed because I'm going to be getting ready for work. That is if you want to." He hesitated for a moment before muttering, "Or I could stay home, and we could go and get you things for your room and whatnot."

I smiled. "I'd like that, Charlie." He beamed at me and went to get dressed. I sat down on the couch and winced. My chest was aching, and it was hard to breathe. I couldn't breathe deeply, and that probably meant there was a broken rib. I got up and began pacing, breathing deeply through the pain. Charlie came down and saw me pacing, and he stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

"What's wrong?" he asked, a frown appearing on his face.

"I just… I'm nervous to go out. I only really went grocery shopping with James and Victoria. I don't even know what I like; Vicki got all my clothes." I smiled slightly at her memory. Vicki had liked me, and she never hit me. She tried to stop James on some occasions, but the she got hurt too, so I told her to stop and protect herself.

"Oh. Well, that doesn't matter. I have a friend who'll help. She may be up too." He smiled at me before going back into the kitchen. I walked and sat on the couch again. I was terrified of going with Charlie, but if it made him happy, I'd do it. I'd make one person in my life happy.

I sighed, and he came back downstairs. "My friend, Esme Cullen, will be here in about a half hour. She said she'd like to help you get adjusted and whatnot." He smiled at me again, and I smiled back.

"Charlie?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"Do you know anyone by the name of James Carter?"

Fury washed over his face, and it frightened me. "James Carter is a man I convicted for domestic abuse and rape of a minor a few years ago. He's a horrible man, but he made parole and never went to jail."

"Oh," I said. I guess that made sense to why James was such a hard-ass.

"What's up, honey? Why are you upset?"

"I… I'm not, but I really don't like shopping all that much. I mean, I do like book shopping, but that's only because I'm a nerd." He chuckled. "Hey, it's true." I laughed with him this time, my nerves calming down.

Just then, a knock sounded from the door. "I'll get it," I told him, getting up. When I opened the door, there was a woman with caramel hair and kind brown eyes looking at me. She wore what looked like a business suit- very expensive.

"You must be Bella." She smiled at me, putting her hand out for me to shake.

"Yes, ma'am, I am Bella." As I put my hand out to shake hers, I was surprised that she pulled me into a hug.

"It's good to have you back, love," Esme said. I nodded, clenching my teeth at the pain in my ribs. It flared like fire.

"It's good to be back, I guess. So. Where are we going to shop at?"

"I was thinking we could just go to the mall in Port Angeles and get some things. It takes too long to get to Seattle from here."

"Okay," I agreed, knowing I didn't know the area of Port Angeles, and I didn't want to go to Seattle in fear of James finding me. "What stores were you thinking?"

"Well, I was thinking we could head to Hollister and Aeropostale and Abercrombie and Fitch, all those teenager stores." Esme giggled.

"Okay." I'd never gone to these stores; James didn't make enough money for it, and he didn't let me work in fear of anyone seeing the bruises. I knew I was a size double zero, though, and I told Esme. She frowned but then turned it into a smile. I could still see some shock in her eyes. I thought maybe there was disapproval too. When we got outside I saw Esme's car; it was a Mercedes Benz S565 AMG. It was a convertible- I could see the roof could unhook- and it was black.

Damn. Her family had money.

"Well, come on, dear," Esme called. "Charlie, honey, are you sitting up front or is Bella?"

"I guess I will. Is that okay, Bells?" I nodded. "Okay, that's settled." I hopped into the back and heard Esme and Charlie whispering.

"Charlie, she's the size of a ten year old!" Esme hissed softly. "How much does she even weigh? Is she even healthy? When was the last time she went to the doctor's?"

"I don't know, Esme," he hissed back. "She just got here a little while ago. She's been in Forks for about an hour, and you already won't leave her alone." Esme's face showed shock and hurt, and Charlie's face softened. "I'm sorry, but I just got her back. I don't want her leaving yet. Can you just… I don't know, calm down around her a little? Please?" He shifted uncomfortably.

"All right," she said back. "I will, but I swear I'll find out what happened to her."

I shuddered delicately at her threat. She totally didn't need to know what had happened. I mean, I'd thought James was my father, but then I knew he couldn't be when the hitting and raping started. For almost three years, I'd been enduring it in that torturous household.

I hadn't realized an hour had passed until Esme said, "Honey, we're here. Ooh, and it's not too early. I hadn't realized we were all talking so long- it's almost noon! Come on!" Esme pushed me and Charlie out of the car and ushered us into the first store she saw- Victoria's Secret.

"Oh no," I whined. "Esme, no, don't make me go in there. Please."

She giggled. "Sweetie, it's just for bras and underwear and pajamas, even if no one will see them."

"No, I refuse to shop here. Esme, my father is here!" I whispered. "He doesn't need to see his child shopping at a whore-ish store for older women who want to seduce their husbands." I looked at Esme, and she blushed. "Oh," I squeaked. "Um, I'm sorry." I ran into the store and started looking at bras. I found a few that weren't too bad and found some nice underwear to match. I then looked at the pajamas, finding a few pairs of nice flannel pants and some tank tops and spaghetti strapped shirts. "I'm paying, Esme, I have a lot of money stashed away." She started to argue, but I held up a hand to stop it. "Please, just let me do it." She nodded hesitantly, and I paid for my purchases. I asked Esme if I could stop back at her car to drop off my bags because I refused to hold four Victoria's Secret bags and walk around the mall.

"Of course, dear," she said. "I'll come with you, and then we'll go to one of the other stores I suggested." I agreed, and we hurried to the car.

I shuffled everything into the trunk, and Esme rushed us back inside. She stopped, though, when she saw a mop of blonde hair. "Oh, Jasper!" she cried, running over to him. "Come and meet Bella."

"Okay," I heard him mutter to her. He came over and looked at me. I hoped he wasn't seeing the bruises, but in case he was, I tilted my head forward and had my hair cover my face. "How do you do, sweets?" he asked, putting his hand out for me to shake.

"I'm okay, I guess. How are you, cowboy?" I smiled slightly and lifted my head up. I was met with mossy green eyes. He smiled at the nickname. I looked up at his head and saw blonde ringlets that weren't too long but long enough to suggest the theory of a bad boy.

"I'm Jasper, sweets, though 'cowboy' does have a nice ring to it.

I laughed. "And I'm Bella, cowboy, though no one should call me 'sweets'- not even you." I smiled sweetly. And his smile disappeared.