Okay. So helllllooooooo! I know I have been being ridiculous by not writing anything so here's my new story. Keep a close eye on it because it's going to get incredible! Oh, yeah and if you are a reader who commented on my last story idea… sorry, but I lied! I'm forgetting that idea for now to write this one because I LOVE it! Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER:

ME: Hey everybody! Twilight is mine now! Hooray!

TWILIGHT: Mandy! Are you telling people that you own me instead of my true owner, Stephanie Meyer...again?

ME: …..no…

Twilight is not mine and nor are it's original characters.

I was trying to numb myself, to not focus on my pain. It didn't work the way I wished. I still felt my bruise that enveloped most of my body and the bones that were cracked, broken, and out of place. Wincing, and biting my lip as to not scream, I limped out of bed to the bathroom.

Step one: Get conscious and out of bed (or off the ground). Check.

I unwilling turned to the mirror and began the examination from the top. My hair was matted with blood due to my head being banged into the wall so many times, and then there was a cut just underneath my jaw from god know where. That was good, easy to hide, and with most ignorant people of this small town, out of sight was out of mind. At least, the truth is.

I stripped down to see the rest of my body. The bruise was there, as it was always, since I was young. The vile hues of purples, black, blue and yellow followed by the constant redness from blood or whatnot were there taunting me. Now for the internal damage, I started by taking a deep breath. Only a simple pain, so only some bruised ribs. I should've already known since I could practically see them from lack of eating. I stretched my arms slowly and hissed due to a dislocated shoulder, most likely from being yanked back to my beating. I then finished by gently putting some weight on each leg. I felt pain in my left ankle and assumed it a sprain and so I tested a bit more weight on it. Nope, it was broken, definitely broken.

Step two: tally up the damage. Check.

I sighed and tuned the shower on. I immediately jumped in, trying to block out the freezing temperature that I hoped to soothe my wounds. I quickly and tenderly washed the blood from my body and hair, wincing as I grazed the hidden wound on my head with my fingers. It was almost too easy to ignore the pain that came with the showering process. The burning of the shampoos and soaps in my open cuts and the water slapping against my mangled body were simply a low buzz of pain which I would sweep aside to the back of my mind.

I quickly scrambled my way out of the shower and toweled off. Then, I pulled my best friend out from under the sink. The first-aid kit. I battled with myself while looking at the only wrap I had whether to use it on my shoulder or my ankle. When I remembered that we were currently playing badminton in gym this week I instantly started to wrap up my shoulder. I would pretend to go for the birdie, maybe even hit it, with my racquet, but I would not move my feet. That would be the most convincing show, I concluded, instead of immobilizing my arms while dodging everything that came my way.

I cleaned the cuts and applied concealer to my face, neck, and hands. I hid the rest of myself with the baggy clothing that was too familiar. I decided against hurting myself more by combing out my hair and put it into a low bun. In the mirror I checked only for any showing damage, and once I was satisfied that there wasn't any, I turned away, not bothering on looking at the overall image of myself. I know I would only see what others labeled as a freak, and frankly, I couldn't care less. It wasn't crucial to my survival.

Step three: Damage control. Check.

I silently inched my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. I started cooking up some breakfast for Charlie. I, of course, was forbidden to eat anything without the permission of Charlie, and trust me he checks the food amounts so I can't sneak anything. According to Charlie, the food was for who put there life on the line each day to put it on the table, which I thought, included me since I limped dangerously down the high staircase to cook his meals. It didn't matter what I thought though.

I thanked the lord, though I wasn't religious, that Charlie never woke as early as I did. It was rather strange considering how he was the police chief of Forks, but I guess if you could abuse your own daughter for most of her life and get away with it, then he could cut down his work hours too.

I finished his breakfast as I simultaneously cleaned the house. I was running late for school, so the work wasn't my best. I knew Charlie would smile at the blood stains that couldn't be fully cleaned, proud of his work and delighted with an excuse to make a new blood stain, though we both knew he didn't need one. With the food on the table, and a single bite of the scrambled eggs in my stomach, I scurried out the door as I heard Charlie's alarm clock ring.

Step four: Do morning chores and inevitably give Charlie an excuse to beat you today. Check.

The second part of step four was the easiest step of the day. There has been many excuses that Charlie has come up with. From being late for something to being alive, you name it, he's said it.

I jumped into my truck carefully and drove off to school in my old truck. It was the one of the things Charlie has ever given me. It was to keep up his appearance of the supportive father to the community. If only the community knew what their beloved Chief Swan did behind closed doors.

As I pulled into the school parking lot, I prepared myself for today's performance as the school freak that was "just weird and will always be alone", which was actually half true. I was an excellent actress if I do say so myself, even better that Charlie, and that's saying something!

I parked, fixed my expression into my infamous blank stare, and walked out of my truck. I walked without limping on my broken ankle and focused on faking clumsiness by tripping over air.

Step five: Become the school freak, boring, anorexic, and most importantly, emotionless. Check.

This is the longest chapter I have ever written! Yahooo!

Now review and I'll update faster than Edward Cullen can run,

don't, and I'll update slower than when Bella Swan walks!

SO….. REVIEW! ....please.