A/N: Hey guys. So this is my first story and I hope you like it. I didn't really stick to the book but, oh well. There is mature content throughout this story and this is thinly warning you'll get! Be warned!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything.
Somebody Save ME!
Chapter 1: Awake.
I've been gone eight years. No one has looked for me. No one cares. My mother died when I was nine and my brother was put in foster care. I was taken by the man who killed her. My name is Bella Swan and I am missing. He taught me long ago that crying only makes thing worse, makes you weak. So now, I don't cry. Ever. It doesn't matter that I blame myself for my mother's death, she got in the way of him killing me. It doesn't matter that I get hurt everyday because he's a mad drunk. Tears don't change anything. But I know I don't deserve this. No one does. And it's taken eight years for me to figure it out. So I'm packing up all my belongings and leaving. I've woken up with two things on my mind. Finding my brother and survival.
But I'm making it sound easier than it is. I have to wait until heleaves for work which won't be for another hour and that's plenty of time for him to get in another beating. There is an old truck that hethinks doesn't run. But I've been fixing it for over a month. I'm broken out of my reverie when I hear footsteps clambering up the stairs. I toss my bag under the bed and start to make the bed. The bedroom door slams open with a bang. I whirl around to see a large man with graying hair and a pervy mustache smiling at me. Great, he's drunk! I stand there waiting for the impact of his fist but it never comes. Instead, he saunters close to me and shoves me down on the bed. I whimper as my head comes in contact with the headboard and his smile grows wider. I feel him ripping off my clothes but I don't stop him and I don't look down. I feel a large bulge digging into my thigh. I watch him, horrifyingly, take off his pants and put on a condom. I clothes my eyes imagining myself with Emmett, but he slaps my cheek till I look at him.
"You're going to enjoy this bitch!" He quickly thrusts into me while I hold back a scream. He goes deeper and deeper into me until I can't hold the screams back any longer. His thrusts are quick and hard. I know I'm bleeding by the time he finishes and I don't care. I just want him gone. My first wish in eight years is granted because he pulls out of me and leaves me soiling the bed.
What seems like a lifetime later I hear a car engine start fade in the distance. I struggle to get up and scrounge up some clothes. Twenty minutes later I find clothes to wear that hid the bruises and gather all of my things and run -as fast as my legs allow-to the traffic cone of a truck. I don't look back at the white house fading in the background. I look only to the future of finding my brother.
