I could not, I repeat NOT, do this without my beta Emberwillow14. I owe her one big fat sloppy tongue kiss. *Mwah!*Mmmm yummy, you taste like cherries!
BPOV
"Isabella, come in here." I was cleaning the tablecloth that had
newly accumulated a red stain on the lace. Mother had spilled some
wine on it when she reached over to run her hand through my brown
curls. Her long fingernails yanked on the tousled strands, but the
pain wasn't as bad as it could've been. I thought back, how the night
had gone from bad to worse.
/flashback/
I got home from school, tiptoeing through the hallway past
Mother's room. The door was closed, Merle Haggard's voice wafting out
from underneath the door, swirling around me, singing about silver
wings in the sunlight. It was a pretty song, one of the only ones I
actually liked by him. I dropped my backpack in my room and made my
way back to the kitchen. The green countertops were filled with
grocery bags. I turned the radio on low and got to work.
About fifteen minutes later I had put away the food and had set the
table. The white lace of the tablecloth glinted with the shiny plastic
pieces sewn onto the fabric. I set out five table settings; hopefully
they would let me eat with them tonight. I had been stuck in the
basement last night with Garrett and it was scary with all the shadows
and tools. The lone light bulb didn't shine as bright as it used to.
I was still too young to make the meals, so I went to wake up
Mother. The drapes were drawn shut, the red fabric creating a dull
glow in the room. An empty wine bottle was on the floor and a bottle
of pills was opened and spilled across the bedside table. I shook
Mother's arm, whispering to her that she needed to get up. I didn't
get a response, but I usually didn't so I wasn't bothered by it. I
shook her harder and watched her wake up.
"What?" she snapped at me, glaring as if I was a spider that needed
to be squished, "What's wrong now, Bella? Did the boogieman get you?"
I just shook my head as she sneered, a bad choice that I should've
known not to do. "Answer me, you little whore. Why'd you wake me up at
five in the afternoon? I said, ANSWER ME!" she screamed in my face.
I looked at my feet and whispered, "No ma'am. The boogieman didn't
get me. But Father and Uncle Phil will be here in an hour and we need
to get supper started. I'm sorry for waking you, but I've already set
the table and put the groceries away." She nodded at me and made a
gesture for me to go. I picked up the empty bottle and opened the door
to leave.
"Leave the bottle, Bella," she called to me. I nodded, showing that
I understood, and set the bottle by the doorframe. I was walking
back to the kitchen when I felt something hit my temple and swing me
into the wall. Glass shards pelted the ground around me and got stuck
in my hair. I felt something warm trickle down my cheek, dripping onto
my white shirt. She leaned down towards me, breathing heavily into my ear. "You
didn't ask to leave my room, *Isabella*," she whispered, then pulled
back her hand and backhanded me across my pulsing temple. I bit my
lip, trying not to let my screams out. "There's a good girl," she
cooed in my ear. "You be quiet as you clean up your mess, you slutty
bitch." She stood up and walked into the kitchen, leaving me with
tears pricking at my eyes. I picked myself up and moved towards the
bathroom. I think she was watching me because the next thing I knew,
she had thrown the broken bottleneck at my back, knocking me onto the
floor. "You forgot something," She said simply. I heard the
refrigerator door open.
I cleaned up the mess; crusty bloodlines had made a home on my
face while I helped make dinner. Father and Uncle pulled up into the
driveway, country music blaring out the open windows. Two slammed
doors, then eighteen off-balance steps to the door. When the door
slammed into the wall, my fate was sealed. Daddy had been drinking and
tonight I would need Garrett to help me. Mother said to go get him
ready for dinner and to redress myself. I went down to the basement,
flicking on the light as I went down the steps. I could hear his harsh
breathing mixed in with some tearless sobs. He had been left here
since Friday, and it was now Monday, without any food. I crawled
behind the cardboard box he was leaning against.
"Hey Garrett," I whispered, leaning onto his shoulder. It trembled
as the sobs racked through his small body.
"Bella," he breathed, grabbing and pulling me into his side,
stroking my hair. "Oh Bella, Bella Bella Bella. Why do they have to
hurt to love? Why?" He looked at me with his watery brown eyes. His
face was filled and overflowing with hurt.
"I don't know, Rett. I really don't know. But I do know that that's
their way of showing that they love us. It may hurt and seem like they
hate us but there's a fine line between hate and love. Sometimes
people just don't notice it's there because it's so tiny. We need to
get you upstairs and cleaned up, Father and Uncle just got home and
they're drunk again. We need to be on our best behavior so we can eat.
When's the last time you've eaten?"
"About four days ago. I know that you've gone for longer though."
I smiled sadly, "Nope. I ate an apple at school today. But if they
figure that out, I'll go for longer without food." We picked ourselves
up and went to his bedroom. I picked out his black striped button up
shirt with the regular black dress pants. Mother wanted us to wear
inside shoes to dinner, so I pulled out his dress shoes from his
closet. I went off to go get my peach dress and white sandals on. The
fabric of the dress felt soft against my skin and swished as I walked
back down the hall to Garrett's room. He was dressed and sitting on
his bed, hands clasped in his lap and his head bowed. "Are you
praying?" I asked softly, not wanting to disturb him if he was. I
didn't believe in God, but I didn't push my non-religion onto others.
"No," he whispered, "Not really. Just hoping tonight is better than
the ones last week. Let's go downstairs." I took his hand and we
slowly walked the steps down to the dining room. Everybody was already
at the dinner table. We sat down across from Uncle Phil with Mother
and Father at the ends of the table. Mother had made some type of
chicken with rosemary and it was delicious. Everything seemed to be
going along fine and I actually began to enjoy the dinner.
But as the case always goes, it wasn't fine. Mother found a spot on
the fork she was using. I told her that I was sorry and that I'd go
get her a new fork but she wouldn't listen. "You always ruin our
dinner, Isabella. Can't you do anything right? God, I swear I can
never trust you to do the simplest things, like washing the
dishes. Why can't you be grateful for what you have and do as you're
told?" She then held my arm down onto the table and stabbed the fork
into my elbow. She was putting a lot of pressure behind it and I felt
the tears begin to prick at my eyes. "Everyone says 'Poor little
Isabella, eight years old and already a slut.' Then, that reflects
back onto me! They tsk-tsk me on my bad parenting skills. Why would
you want that for Mommy? Hmm? Why would you sentence Mommy to the
torture of having people talk about her behind her back? Why,
Isabella, why?" she hissed at me, digging the fork deeper. It had
already broken the skin and blood was flowing into the crevice she was
making. She pulled out the fork and resumed eating like nothing had
happened. And really...Nothing had. It could've been much worse. She
could've killed me, but all she did was make me bleed. And for that, I
was grateful.
Garrett looked over at me, silently asking if I was ok. I smiled at
him, but it wasn't one out of happiness. None of our smiles ever were
now. We resumed eating quietly, listening to the grown-ups talk.
Mother reached over to comb her fingers through my hair. She tried to
make it feel nice, but her fingers got stuck in curls. She knocked
over her wineglass with her elbow as she pulled her hand through
again. We all watched the red liquid soak into the fabric, spreading
into a large circle. We sat there, waiting for her reaction. She
removed her hand from my hair and set it down by the side of her
plate. She looked calm, but it was like the calm before the storm. It
was an eerie calm and it sent shivers down my spine. She just sat
there, staring at the wall above Father's head.
Then she snapped. With a crash, her dinner plate was on the ground,
behind Garrett's chair. It had hit the wall and the pieces scattered
across the floor. "Goddammit, Bella. If you'd just comb your hair
this wouldn't have happened. Why can't you do anything right?" she
hissed at me, then pulled back her hand and smacked me across the
face. I turned slightly, feeling my skin redden with the pain. I
watched Garrett out of the corner of my eye flinch and watch me with
sympathy with in his eyes. Mother abruptly stood up and walked off
down the hallway. Seconds later we heard her bedroom door slam close.
"Nice, Isabella. You pissed your mother off. I'll go check on her.
Clean the table and go to the living room," Father instructed as he
followed her. Uncle Phil glared at us, and then went into the living room.
We heard the sports channel turn on and I set to work. Garrett and I
cleared the table silently and put the dishes in the dishwasher.
"Just go into the living room," I told him. "I'll just clean up the
wine and be right in." He nodded and went to sit down next to Uncle
Phil. I grabbed the Shout and started spraying and rubbing at the stain.
/-End Flashback-/
"Dammit, Bella! Come in here now!" Father was mad that I made
Mother upset, and I knew that my punishment was coming. I put the
cleaning supplies in the cupboard and walked into the living room with
my head bowed.
"Yes, Father?" I asked quietly, looking at his socks. They stalked
towards me and halted in front of me.
"You've been a naughty girl, Bella. I couldn't get your mother to
stop crying. Do you know what happens to naughty little girls, Bella?"
I nodded, "What happens to them Isabella?"
I whispered, "They get punished."
"That's right. They get punished. Now, I'm gonna punish you, but
then we can have some fun with Uncle Phil, okay?"
"Yes Father," I said. Some of his punishments were worse than
others, but he seemed nicer today than usual. He turned me around and
put my hands against the wall, to brace me. I heard him rummaging
around in his cupboards. I knew Uncle Phil and Garrett were watching.
Uncle Phil liked watching the punishments, but Garrett was forced to
watch. He was protective of me, as I was of him. He hated watching his
twin get hurt, but if he interfered he would get worse than me.
My underwear slid downs my legs as Father pulled on them. He picked
up my feet one by one, helping me step out of them. It didn't feel
right, having air flow freely between my legs. He folded my dress over
my back so it wouldn't get damaged. He almost lovingly caressed my
bottom, and then sliced through the flesh where my cheek met my thigh. It
stung, but I bit my lip to not scream. "How many cuts should you get,
Bella? Five or six? Or maybe ten, seeing how your mother is so upset
she can't give me any tonight. I'll just have to use you tonight, I
guess. Such a shame, such a shame." He cut another line underneath the
one he made before. Just as he promised, he made eight other cuts on
my legs. I sucked in my breath as he made the last one. "What was
that, Bella? Did you say something?" I shook my head and he chuckled,
"Good. I wouldn't want it any other way."
He set the knife on the floor and picked up the glass he had next
to him. It was filled with a milky fluid. He poured it over the cuts
as he said, "Just a little bleach make sure you got the message." I
accidentally screamed as the bleach burned into my skin. The pain was
white hot and I knew I would be punished for crying out, but I
honestly couldn't care at that moment. I was in too much pain. He
tsked as I screamed, then slapped his belt across the marks. My knees
buckled as he did it again and again. "Get up you bitch. I didn't tell
you to move." He kicked me in the ribs and whipped me with his belt
again. "Get *up* I said." He growled and the belt whistled through
the air one more time as it landed on my face. It snapped my head back
and I could feel the blood rushing towards the attacked site.
"No!" I heard Garrett yell. I was on the floor, holding my cheek to
try to stop the pain. I watched his loafers come closer and heard the
sharp sound of leather meeting flesh. I watched the five years of fury
that was built up inside of him reach his eyes. He lunged towards
Father, but he grabbed Garrett's shoulders and propelled him into the
wall next to me. He had blood running down his face from where he had
hit the iron accents on the wall. He was no match for Father, being
only fueled by his anger. He was an eight year old trying to take on a
thirty-plus year old man. His body wasn't built to take on Father, but
he had his mind set on it.
Garrett picked himself up and lunged again. While he was in air,
Father pulled his fist back and let it fly. He caught Garrett in the
mouth and blood spurted everywhere. Garrett cried out in pain and spit
out three or four teeth. Father stood over him and spat out,
"Interfering? Really! Are you retarded? 'Cause you sure do act like
it! You know my rules and now you can satiate my need instead of your
sister. Uncle Phil can use her tonight." He pulled Garrett up by his
hair and ripped his black pants off. Garrett had silent streams of
tears flowing down his face, but knew enough not to move from the spot
where Father put him on the floor. Father unbuttoned his jeans and
slid them down his legs. He sat down on the couch and told Garrett to
come over. He positioned him on his knees and opened Garrett's mouth.
Garrett held the stance like he was told while Father went and turned
the camcorder on. He went and sat back down in front of Garrett. "Suck
it, son. Suck it like you love to do." He lifted his hips up slightly
and shoved Garrett's mouth into his crotch. Garrett's nose was in the
hair surrounding Father's...Father's...Well, I didn't really *know*
what it was or what to call it. It was about my hand size long, maybe
longer, and was thick. There was a slit on the end and that part was a
different colors then the stick it was on. Well, I guess that was what
it was, a stick that Father liked to put in places with holes. There
was a bag underneath the "stick" and he liked you to tug on it or play
with the balls inside of it. I'd just call that the "sack with balls
inside" or "sack" for short. I watched Garrett gag as his nose kept
hitting the hair until Uncle Phil pulled me onto the other couch.
"Time to play," he sang as he sat down on the brown fabric and
dropped his pants. His "stick" was larger by far and was sticking up
straight in the air. "Come sit down on my lap, Izzy. Uncle Phil wants
to play with you. I haven't seen you in a long time." I went and sat
on his lap, his "stick" nestling between my legs. I stared at his
face, waiting for him to tell me what to do. "I need help. Do you feel
what happened to me between your legs?" I nodded and he continued,
"Well, I was wondering, could you help me with my problem? I know you
can. And I love you very much. So, will you help me?" I nodded again
as I thought, I always help you with your "problem." Why start asking
now? He reached around to my bottom and found the hole he liked. He
slid a finger in and I hissed at the pain. I should've been used to
it, but the intrusion still hurt every time. He slid another finger in
and made a pair of scissors with his fingers. He had a smile on his
face and his stick twitched between my thighs. He pulled me closer and
lifted me up. "Are you ready?" he asked me and I nodded and waited for
the pain. He found the hole again and put the tip of his stick at the
opening. "One, two, three," he grunted and slammed me down all the
way. I cried out in pain as he pulled me up and slammed me down again.
He seemed to like it; his face was almost breaking with the smile on
his face. If it caused me pain to put that wonderful smile on his
face, I would do it. This was the one time where I felt like he loved
me. He continued to slam into me and I just watched his face. "Kiss me
baby. I love you." I lightly kissed his nose and he chuckled. "Give me
a real kiss. I'm your uncle, I deserve more than that." I gave him a
kiss on his cheek and his eyes twinkled, but his mouth turned into a
frown. I knew wasn't happy with me, but I was only joking with him. I
kissed his frown away and he slid his tongue in between my lips. I
could feel him shuddering underneath me and a felt something wet come
out of the hole he was in. He grunted, and then pulled me off of him.
"Thanks baby," Uncle Phil said and kissed me once more. "You really
helped me tonight."
I looked over at Garrett. He had very long, deep cuts all over his
chest. The blood was pouring down his stomach, pooling in his belly
button and his crotch. Father was gone and Uncle Phil went to the
guest room. I walked over to Garrett and helped him up. He hissed in
pain as I took him up the stairs. I tried not to disturb his sliced
belly. His face was twisted up as he tried not to make a noise. We
walked into the bathroom and I switched the light on as we went. He
leaned against the counter as I turned on the taps in the bathtub. I
took his shoes off and helped him ease himself into the warm water. He
groaned and hissed when the water hit his cuts. I went into the
cupboard to grab a big white fluffy towel, a washcloth, and a sponge.
It had started raining again, a usual occurrence in Forks.
I knelt down next to the white porcelain tub and got the washcloth
wet. "Why did you interrupt my punishment, Garrett? You know that
isn't a good thing to do," I asked him quietly, slowly washing the
blood off his chest and legs. Some of it had dried and was in flakes
in the water. He took up half of the tub, the water slowly rising as
it filled up more.
"I don't know what I was thinking; I just couldn't see you get hurt
any longer. Why don't you get in, we need to clean you up too and
there's more than enough room." He reached out to me and helped me out
of the dress. I dropped it in the hamper and lightly stepped into the
hot water. Steam curled up around me as I placed myself on the
opposite end. Our legs were intertwined as we talked. I washed him and
he returned the favor; the soft facecloth felt nice against my beaten
skin. My cheek was red from where Father had struck me and was
beginning to bruise. It would be purple when I woke up tomorrow.
Garrett had dried blood caked around his stick and it twitched as I
scrubbed the grime off of it.
"Hey Garrett," I asked. "Do you love me?"
"Of course I do, Bella. Why wouldn't I?"
"Well...you don't touch me like Father and Uncle Phil do. And they
love me. How do I know that you love me if you don't show it?"
"Oh Bella, if that's what you want, I'll give it to you. But I
don't want to hurt you. I can't stand seeing you broken."
"Love me Garrett. I need someone to save me." He leaned over and
grabbed me around the waist. He pulled me towards him and hit the
drainer so there wasn't as much water. The water was now slightly
above our hips. He laid me back so my head was in the water and my
knees were bent on either side of him. He knelt in front of my open
legs and leaned over me to brush his lips against mine.
"I love you," Garrett whispered as he slid his stick into my hole.
It wasn't the one Uncle Phil used; this one didn't hurt as much. This
wasn't the same as when the grownups loved me. Garrett's stick wasn't
hard and straight like a rolling pin. But he loved me nonetheless.
"I love you Garrett. Forever and ever, until the Twinkies die," I
whispered as his lips met mine again. We had learned a few years ago
that if a nuclear bomb went off, the only things left standing would
be cockroaches and Twinkies. It was our new promise. Our lips moved
together better than anyone else's ever did. His tongue didn't try to
get into my mouth, so I used mine to explore his. He tasted sweet,
like a gumdrop, with some cinnamon thrown in. I liked it.
He sat back up, taking me with him. He turned me around, so my back
was to his chest and I would've thought that would hurt him, but he
didn't seem to notice. He was humming quietly as he refilled the tub
with hot water. He had the sponge in his hand and was tracing the
scars on my chest. The two pink circles on my chest were one of the
places he liked to run his hands across the most. "What are you
humming?" I asked him; it sounded like a nice song.
"Here, I'll sing it to you," he replied then took a deep breath,
"Let me be your hero
Would you dance, if I asked you to dance?
Would you run, and never look back?
Would you cry, if you saw me crying?
And would you save my soul, tonight?
Would you tremble, if I touched your lips?
Would you laugh? Oh please tell me this
Now would you die, for the one you love?
Hold me in your arms, tonight
I can be your hero, baby
I can kiss away the pain
I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away
Would you swear, that you'll always be mine?
Or would you lie? Would you run and hide?
Am I in too deep? Have I lost my mind?
I don't care you're here, tonight
I can be your hero, baby
I can kiss away the pain
I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away
Oh, I just wanna hold you
I just wanna hold you, oh yeah
Am I in too deep? Have I lost my mind?
Well I don't care you're here, tonight
I can be your hero, baby
I can kiss away the pain, oh yeah
I will stand by you forever
You can take my breath away
I can be your hero, I can kiss away the pain
(I can be your hero, baby)
And I will stand by you, forever
You can take my breath away
You can take my breath away
An' I can be your hero"
"Wow, Garrett. I love that song. Thank you." I was glad that he
liked that song too.
"I'll always be your knight in shining armor, Bella. I'm gonna get
you out of here. I love you. I'll always protect you. Forever and
ever, until the sand runs out." I snuggled in closer to him and
watched the raindrops make trails down the windows. He would always
be my hero. Until the sand runs out.
Come on, spread some lovin' an' hatin' around. I take both.
Clothing link on my profile page.
The song was Hero by Enrique Inglais.
