A/N: I've begun working on a new story and I wanted to at least give you guys the first chapter to see what you think. This chapter and some of the other chapters does contain a rather graphic rape scene so for the faint of heart or those who do not like reading these kinds of stories, I do not recommend starting this one. I hope that you enjoy this one and please feel free to critique anything you see fit.

Also, this story has characters that may not be as exactly like Stephanie Meyer wrote them. I've taken the names and used them but I am also shaping them into my own versions to an extent. One last thing as well, this story is going to be all human. I felt like a change of no vampires might be nice. So please read and enjoy!

~Jess

Chapter 1

"Phil…please no…please stop." I was begging him to stop this torture. It was more than I had ever had to handle before and I was having a hard time stifling my screams. He backhanded my cheek making me whimper even more in pain. I could smell the familiar rusty smell as a thin line of blood trickled down my cheek. Phil was in one of his drunken rages again and it seemed as if now he was simply going too far.

"Shut up you little bitch! I'll stop when I'm good and ready to stop!" He grabbed my hair and roughly pulled me closer to him, crashing his lips down on my own. I feebly attempted to push him off of me.

Phil was a lot of things but never had I thought him as a rapist; he had never allowed himself to go that far before. I panicked even more and my arms began to flail wildly through the air in what I figured was an attempt to push him away. He grasped my tiny wrists in one of his large hands and held them down as he continued to plunder my mouth with his tongue. I could already feel the bile rising up in my throat as he continued to assault me in the worst way possible. His mouth began trailing down my neck as his other hand ripped my thin t-shirt to shreds. Before I knew what was happening, Phil had me down on the bed with my hands above my head.

"I knew these would come in handy one day." He held a glimmering pair of handcuffs in his hand and began to twirl them around. "You're going to be a good little bitch for me right. I can't wait to break you in." He slurred into my ear as he cuffed my wrists to the top of the bed. I could feel the hot tears pour down my face as he straddled my waist. "I'm going to enjoy this so much." He ripped my bra from me and roughly grasped one of my breasts in his calloused hand. I faintly heard him moaning but my sobs drowned most of them out. He leaned his mouth down and bit down hard. I screamed out loudly as I felt him draw blood from my tender skin.

"Please Phil…please don't do this." I attempted to beg him one last time. He slapped my face again hard as he leaned his mouth down to my ear. He ran his tongue along the lobe and I felt myself shudder in disgust. He took that as a much different sign and laughed to himself.

"Does my little whore like that?" He ran his tongue over the lobe again before sucking it into his mouth. His hands were back to roughly handling my breasts as he whispered in my ear. "When I'm done with you, no one in this world is going to want someone as broken and disgusting as you." With that statement he pulled my shorts down and roughly tore the fabric of my panties off. I tried to tightly keep my legs together but he managed to pry them apart and separate them with his knees. He slid his filthy and grimy hand down my stomach until he reached what he wanted. I sobbed harder because I knew what was coming.

This was not how my first time was supposed to be like. I was supposed to be sharing this with someone whom I loved very deeply, someone whom I loved more than this world. I wasn't supposed to be here handcuffed to a bed as my stepfather brutally raped me. I was brought out of my thoughts as he roughly shoved a finger inside of me moaning as he began to pump it. "You like that bitch?" I let more tears escape my eyes as he slapped me again. "Just wait until I fill you up with me." He abruptly stood up from the bed and hastily pulled his pants and boxers down before climbing back on top of me. He crashed his lips down on mine again. "You ready for daddy bitch?" He stroked my face roughly pulling my hair when I didn't respond fast enough. "Well, if you're going to be that way then I won't be as gentle as I was going to be." With those last words he broke through the thin barrier that held the last of my innocence. He didn't even wait for me to adjust to him as he set his own rough and hard rhythm. I felt a warm liquid trailing down my leg and I just began to cry harder.

Phil continued to use me several times and soon after he had finished he got up and left. Somewhere during the fourth or fifth time he had uncuffed me from the bed because he wanted to do other things that could not be done with me handcuffed. I felt disgusting and used. I knew I was damaged before but now I was just beyond filthy. Any chance of happiness I had went with this. I brought my knees, however painfully, to my chest and sobbed myself to sleep.

When I awoke in the morning, I couldn't move any muscle in my body. It was already six in the morning and I desperately needed to get to school. I willed myself to work through the screaming protests of my body to make my way into the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror disgusted me. I was covered in bruises from head to toe. My right eye was swollen shut and my lip was puffy from the numerous slaps Phil had given me last night. I sighed and pulled my shirt up noticing the odd deformity that was now my ribs. Phil usually managed to bruise a couple ribs and it wasn't uncommon for him to succeed in breaking a few. I sighed painfully and pulled my shirt gently over my head before stepping into the shower.

My injuries were not going to be easy to hide. I was running low on cover up and the swelling in my face had no chance of going down before I got to school. In the state I was in, I decided to not go to school today and instead focus on icing as many parts of my body as I could. There was one pain I knew that I would never be able to ice and that was the burning and throbbing I felt down there. Phil had been extremely rough and if I didn't know any better I think there might be some tearing that would need work by a trained medical professional. That was care that I was never going to receive and who knows what kind of long-term effects it could lead to.

I wish my mom were here. She would know how to make this better for me. I wish that my dad, Charlie, wanted me. If he did, I wouldn't be in this situation right now. If Charlie wanted me to come live with him, maybe I would still be innocent Bella. If Charlie actually wanted me maybe I wouldn't be as worthless as I am right now. And what about Emmett? Did he even know about me anymore? We were so young when we separated. I bet Charlie never even told him I existed. Why would he want to?

I had a general idea of where my father and brother lived. I knew that it was only an hour or so away from here. Maybe if I just showed up at Charlie's door, he'd take pity on me and take me in. I could only hope that if I was actually able to escape the clutches of my demon stepfather that my own father would take in his flesh and blood regardless of how dirty and broken I am. It was a shot I was willing to take; what else did I have to live for? I continued to lie in my bed as I iced my injuries. This plan was going to take a lot of formulating on my part and I would need to find a way to either fight back enough against Phil or distract him enough with something that he wouldn't even notice I had fled.

I had carefully plotted an escape plan that would take some time to carry out. By the time I was finished it was almost time for Phil to return home from whatever escapade he had been on today. I raced down the stairs as carefully as possible and pulled out something quick and easy to heat up for his dinner. The smell of the delicious food assaulted my senses and I felt my stomach churn loudly in hunger. I hadn't eaten in almost a week. Phil told me I needed to lose somewhere around 20 pounds and had promptly forbade me to satiate my hunger door swung open loudly and I heard Phil's loud footsteps make their way towards the kitchen. He slammed himself down in the chair and greedily began shoving food into his disgusting mouth. He looked up at me while he chewed, rather unpleasantly, and stared.

"Aw, is the poor little bitch hungry?" He shoved another forkful of the meat into his mouth and laughed cynically. My stomach decided to betray me and grumbled loudly after he had asked his question. "Well too bad slut, because only people who are worth something deserve food. Maybe this way you will just starve to death and I won't have to do anything about your sorry little ass anymore." He had finished that last of the food and stood up from the table. "I want this mess cleaned up and then your ass better be upstairs waiting for me." I felt the panic overwhelm me; he couldn't possibly want to do anymore to me. I shakily cleaned the table and washed the dishes before hesitantly making my way upstairs too my room.

When I opened the door, Phil was standing there rubbing himself through his own pants. He smiled the most disgusting smile at me and motioned the bed. I was unable to bring my feet to move and before I knew what was happening Phil had me by the hair and was dragging me to the bed where he roughly threw me down.

"Please Phil, not again!" I screamed out and immediately regretted it. He backhanded my already bruised face and tore off my shirt moaning as he began to grope at my bony body.
"You're going to enjoy this baby girl." He whispered into my ear as he again began to take advantage of me. I could not find the strength to fight back against him. Even just the action of crying took so much of the energy that I did not have. I could not stay here any longer. I would not be able to put up with the abuse anymore. I couldn't let myself die here. My plan was going to have to happen a lot sooner than I planned but that was okay with me. When Phil had finally passed out cold on top of me from the alcohol he had consumed earlier that day, I carefully slid myself out from under him. I didn't have to worry about him regaining consciousness anytime soon; he normally would be knocked out for ten or more hours after he had a drinking spree.

I quietly packed a few things into a bag and made my way downstairs and out into the night. I felt no remorse for leaving whatsoever. I used to think it would be so difficult to leave because of the memories of my mother that this house held. I realize now that my mom would want me to live and the only way I could do that would be to leave this wretched place and start anew. Even if Charlie didn't want me I would at least be out of the hellhole that has been my life. With that final thought, I began the long journey down the road to Forks, Washington where I knew my father and brother resided. It wouldn't be hard to find them; the hard part would be convincing them to let me stay with them.