This is my first attempt at writing pretty much anything. So please try not to be TOO harsh. :( Special thank you to my darling doll of a bestie and beta for pushing me to get this chapter out there. Comments and reviews would be fantastical. xoxo
Disclaimer: Smeyer owns all characters. That lucky dawg.
CHAPTER ONE: Naked Dicks and Poptarts
Go without,
Till the need seeps in
You low animal,
Collect your novel petals for the stem.
And glow.
Glow.
Melt and flow.
Eviscerate your fragile frame.
And spill it out on ragged floor.
A thousand different versions of yourself.
"Sleeping Lessons" - The Shins
---------------------------------
Thump. Thump. Thump.
It was the umpteenth time I've heard that goddamned noise.
"Jacob, seriously. What the hell is that noise?" I pulled away from the gorgeous Native American boy I was previously sucking face with. His dark brows furrowed together in blatant confusion.
"What noise?" A quizzical expression played on his face.
Right on cue the mysterious noise made itself known once again.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"That, noise" I said pointedly.
He seemed to contemplate it for a moment. I took this time to adjust my crossed-legged position on some type of hard ground. Just as I was taking notice to what felt like gravel embedded in my palm, I looked back up towards Jacob.
My breath hitched.
He was leaning towards me once again. The fingertips of his left hand stretched out; dangerously close to my collar bone. I swallowed in anticipation and let out a jagged breath. He smiled as the very tips of his large fingers began tracing lazy patterns across my collarbone. I closed my eyes just as I felt his right hand bring itself to the side of my face, gently cupping it. I opened my eyes in time to see him dip his head. The hallow of my neck was pleasantly greeted by the soft touch of his lips, pressing small, but burning kisses into the space there. I heard the troublesome thumping noise again and opened my mouth to say something. "See, there it is ag—"I was silenced by his mouth on mine.
It was as if a fire was burning just under the skin of his lips. They were scorching, unyielding. I wanted more. I parted my lips slightly, begging for him to deepen the kiss, to give me what I wanted. Instead, he pulled away smiling. The bastard. I scowled at him while he laughed at the expression on my face.
"See Bella?" he started. I was too miffed at him for ending the kiss, so I just raised my eyebrows—a sign for him to continue with whatever the hell he was getting at. He chuckled again, but after glancing at my expression he coughed and began to make his point. "The noise, it doesn't matter. You can just ignore it."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I don't think so. I opened my mouth to protest, "But Jake—" he put a finger on my lips and leaned over towards my ear. "Bella," he whispered, "just ignore it." He planted a small kiss on my ear lobe, before moving slightly and placing another on the very edge of my jaw.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Ignore it," he mumbled against my cheek before I could even begin to say anything. I was about to go against him, until I felt his teeth rake along my jaw bone. I shut up mighty quick. His tongue soon made itself known to my skin. I shivered in pleasure. Yeah, who the fuck cares about some stupid noise?
Just as I was turning my head to meet his lips I heard the noise even louder than before.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Not even Jacob could ignore something that loud.
He let out a noise that was similar to a growl. A huffed "damnit" escaped his lips before he pulled away from me completely. My lips pouted without my permission and I looked away before he could see. To give me something to focus on, I looked around and I finally took in our surroundings. What I saw confused me.
It appeared that Jacob and I were on the side of some road. I looked down at my palm and absentmindedly brushed off the gravel I noticed earlier. After glancing around some more, I discovered that we were sitting on the corner of a street near my home in Phoenix, Arizona. Why were we here? Before I could ask him, the damn noise rudely distracted me from my thoughts once again.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I honestly couldn't take it anymore. I turned back to where Jacob sat, only, he wasn't there anymore.
"Jake?" I asked aloud into the air.
My hand stretched out, running along the empty space that his body had occupied only a moment before. I stood up, feeling slightly panicked. Calm down Bella, calm down. I chanted to myself as I brushed off my backside and took deep, calming breaths. I called out for Jacob once again. It wasn't like him to leave me like this, much less disafreakinpear out of thin air either.
Out of some nervous habit my hands began to ring themselves together. Twisting and pulling my fingers. They felt slick when they made contact.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Alone, the sound was even more menacing. I was past the stage of scared, I was becoming absolutely terrified. "Jacob?" I called out again, but the sound was small and squeaky. I began walking down the familiar road towards my house. With or without Jake, I would be safe there.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
My pulse seemed to quicken with each thump. Where the fuck was Jacob? I was getting angry now. Why would he leave me here in the dark on the side of some road?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I gave up simply calling out. Now I was screaming for him. "Jacob! Jacob Black! Where the hell are you?!"
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
It sounded as if the noise was behind me, chasing me. I started to run.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
I had to get away, I had to get home, and I had to find Jacob. Jacob. Why would he leave me?
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
As I continued to run, I rounded a corner, and to my relief, there nestled in the middle of the long row of homes was mine. I ran faster, making my way towards it, towards safety.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
I was running up the drive way when I heard a noise, different than the constant thumping. It sounded strangely familiar; it sounded like…my truck? I turned towards the sound, and there speeding around the corner at the end of the block was my old red pickup. I stood there, stunned and confused. Not a second later another noise alerted me. This one too was familiar, but coming from the opposite side of the street. One glance told me what I already feared. A motorcycle was rounding the corner with a driver who was completely clueless of my truck speeding down the same road.
It all happened in a blur. Two vehicles going too fast, and me standing there, helpless to it all. The explosion of them colliding was great and terrible. The driver of the truck was slumped over the wheel, their brown hair spilling out onto their shoulders. I couldn't focus on why it struck a pang of familiarity in me, my eyes were set on the body that was laying sprawled out on the pavement.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
I ran to him. I knew as I ran that I was too late. Reaching the body, I could see all the blood that surrounded him—I couldn't just see it, I could smell it. In the midst of it there he lay. Bloodied and broken. I dropped to my knees as I cried out. Please, no!!!
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
I moved to cradle his body in my hands. The sound of a footstep alerted me. Standing before me was the driver who had just ended Jacob's life.
The driver was me.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
I woke up with a gasp.
Jacob. Jacob was in my dream. It was only a dream. I threw my tangled bed sheets off of me and pressed my fists into my eyes. My heart was hammering painfully in my chest. It had seemed so real… Before I could even begin to start analyzing my dream, I zoned in on the strange pounding noise. This time, I was able to hear the muffled whispers that I didn't notice in my nightmare.
Thump. "Yeah, you like that baby?" Thump. A girlish giggle. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Then, a deep moan, accompanied by some kind of throaty choking sound that oddly reminded me of an elephant giving birth. Followed by a half hearted thump, another giggle and the squeaking noise a bed makes as two people curl up next to one another.
I should have been relieved that it was over, instead, I just felt like vomiting. I was just woken up by the sounds of my mother and her boyfriend Phil fucking. Again.
Fuck my life.
I let out a tired humorless chuckle at the irony of the situation. My thirty-nine year old mother was banging away in the other room while my eighteen year old self lay in bed having dreams about my dead boyfriend. Nice, I thought bitterly. I glanced over at the small clock that was perched precariously on a stack of books on my bedside table. I was filled with disbelief as I squinted at the glowing red numbers. 4:36 AM. Unfuckingbelievable. Who has sex at 4 AM on a weekday?
Your mom.
Oh ,burn!
Great. I haven't even got out of bed and I've already started talking to myself. And not just talking, I was dissing myself as well. This was better than great, it was fantastic. I groaned and rolled over, pulling my twisted sheets over my head.
Lying in bed, I contemplated about going back to sleep, but I knew it was too late to even bother. Besides, if I did, I might have dreams about… I forced myself to try not to think about it. It was no use. Jacob's crumpled, bleeding body flooded my mind. The thought made me shiver.
Gripping my sheets tighter to my face, I had a fleeting thought of suffocating myself. I wondered if I had the guts to do it. I pressed them tighter still….
After about 20 seconds I was completely breathless and I threw off my sheets hastily in a desperate attempt to get oxygen back into my lungs. I inhaled deeply. Well, I guess that rules out suffocation as a suicide plan. Untangling myself from my blankets completely, I stretched hugely before sitting up and swinging my legs over on the side of my bed. Yawning, I stood up and stumbled across my room to turn on my light, seeing how it was still pitch black in my room.
At least, that was the plan.
What actually happened was, in an attempt to reach the switch I managed to trip over my backpack, slam my knee into my dresser, trip over my own feet, and smash my eye in with my doorknob. I was the most graceful girl on the fucking planet. As I lay on my back, one hand clutched my surely bruised knee;, the other covered my eye to keep it from falling out of its socket. I was positive that judging by the pain, it was about to roll out at any given moment.
I had decided to lie on the ground until I died, but my mother had other plans. My door slammed open, hitting my ribs in the process. I yelled aloud, causing my mother to scream unnecessarily loud, which in turn caused Phil to come running in the room right after. What made everything even worse was, in the midst of all the chaos someone had flicked on the light.
After the momentary blindness went away I was able to see out of my good eye that my mother, despite her short, skanky silk robe was completely naked and I was pretty much staring straight up her birth canal as she hovered above me. Phil on the other hand didn't even show me the decency of even trying to wear some article of clothing. He stood there stark naked and to my horror he was obviously erect. Please God, anyone. Kill me now.
I squeezed my eyes shut, ignoring the stabbing pain from my bad eye. Maybe if I closed them long enough they would think I was dead and go away. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.
"Babbbby! What happened?!" my mother wailed dramatically. She had come to my side and crouched down on the ground next to me. I opened my good eye only to see that her robe flapped open, giving me a terrible show of her large fake breasts. I squeezed my eyes shut once more, silently praying for death. "Bella! Bella! Can you hear me?!" Maybe I was a better actor than I originally thought.
"Yeah mom, I'm alright. Just fell." I made an attempt to get up; my mother saw this and helped me to my feet. I could hear Phil making some kind of 'tisking' noise. Apparently he was amused. It made me want to punch his naked dick. Instead, I fought off the badass Bella inside me and ignored him.
Standing, was much better. I was able to think a little clearer. It was probably due to the fact that I no longer had an eye full of vagina, which is a very good thing for me. I shuddered at the memory that I knew would haunt me for life.
My mothers' voice interrupted my internal suffering.
"You sure you're okay baby?" She actually sounded concerned. I was shocked. Judging by her recent behavior the past Idontevenknowhowmany months, I didn't think concern for me was even possible for her anymore. I thought over her question.
Was I okay?
I could have let it all out. I could have told her that besides my obvious injuries I thought I was broken. That I hadn't smiled in months. That I was hurt and bitter because she chose Phil over me when I needed her the most. That I still have dreams of Jacob dying. That I wished she would care that her piece of shit boyfriend was naked in my room.
I decided that 5 am wasn't the right time for that particular heart to heart. So I told her what I normally tell her these days; a lie.
"Just peachy, thanks." I made a show of walking around my room and gathering up my bath towel and clean panties. Thankfully she got the hint. I watched as she grabbed Phil's wrist and dragged him along with her out the door. I stared out after them, feeling increasingly better the farther away from me they got. Or maybe I was just happy Phil's naked ass was out of my sight. Before making my way towards the bathroom I gave my room a once-over to evaluate the mess my fall made. I had knocked over a pile of books, my jar of loose change that was mainly pennies and… oh shit.
Dropping my towel and panties, I ran to the picture frame that had been knocked off my dresser. After picking it up I double checked to make sure it was perfectly safe. I let out a sigh of relief. The picture was fine, completely unscratched. Staring up at me though the glass was a sickeningly happy couple. The boy had his arm wrapped tightly around the girl, his lips pressed adoringly against the pale skin of her cheek. The girl was all smiles, her own arm wrapped around his waist. Both perfectly and incandescently happy. I scowled at the picture of Jacob and I.
It wasn't fair. What was the point of being allowed to be so fucking happy, only to have them ripped away from you? Maybe you shouldn't have killed him.
I swallowed hard. I did not need to do this to myself right now. I placed the picture back on the dresser gently before picking up my discarded towel and panties then making my way across the hall to the bathroom. Once inside I locked the door. A habit that formed after the many times Phil walked in without so much as knocking. I braced myself before I looked into the mirror. I assumed my face was going to look bad, but I wasn't expecting this.
I looked like hell. My hair was a tangled mess, a zit was forming on the side of my nose and on top of everything, it looked like Godzilla punched me in the face. My eye was swollen, watery and an unhealthy purplish-blue color. I reached up to examine it with my fingers, only to discover that it hurt like a bitch. "Aw, shit," I was bad. How the fuck was I supposed to go to school looking like this? I allowed myself to let out one of those "thewholeworldhatesme" sighs before stripping off my sleeping shorts and black cami top and getting into the shower.
I tried my best to prolong the shower, but someone, decided to flush a toilet, causing an icy torrent of water to hit me right in the face. Thanks a whole fucking lot. I turned off the water, wrapped myself in my towel and hopped out. After wiping off the steamy mirror I glared at my reflection once more. I may look like a poster girl for domestic violence, but at least I was clean. After hastily brushing my chompers I grabbed my things and walked out in to the hall. I nearly screamed with shock.
I wasn't alone.
"Hey baby." Phil was standing right outside of the door. Still naked. Blocking my exit.
Jesus H. Christ. "Get the fuck out of my way," I grumbled, shoving past him. Just as I was passing him, I felt his hand snake up the bottom of my towel and caress my ass. I turned around and with the heel of my right foot; I stomped down on his foot. To my satisfaction, he let out a grunt of pain and I was free to go. Ever since I hit the ripe old age of eighteen, Phil called open season on my ass. Literally. As far as he was concerned, I was an adult. He may have been harboring perverted fantasies about me before, but back then, I could call the cops. Now I just take it. I've told my mother about it before, but as always, she didn't believe me where her precious Phillip was involved. It also didn't help that the asshole denied all claims of sexual harassment towards me, all while giving my mother this sick puppy look. It was revolting.
What my mother sees in him, I'll never understand. Phil was not only a pervert, but the total opposite of my father. Charlie Swan is the police chief of some godforsaken small town up in Washinton. My parents divorced about seven years ago. Since then, I've only seen my dad a couple of times. I hadn't realized how much I missed Charlie until my mom got together with the loser hanging out naked in the hallway a few years ago. I was actually missing my dad a lot these days.
Stepping into my room, I looked around making sure I didn't have anything to trip over. Once I reached my closet, I picked out a faded green and black plaid button up shirt and tossed it on my bed. Reaching over to my dirty hamper, I picked up the pair of jeans lying on top, gave them a freshness sniff for good measure before pulling them on. I used my towel to continue drying off my hair as I grabbed my bra hanging off the back of a chair and clipped it on. Once I was bra cladden, I went around my room, grabbing things I needed for school, shoving them into my disastrous black backpack. After I slipped on a pair of flip flops, I put my top on, grabbed my bag and headed out my door.
I made my way down the hallway and into my small kitchen. Thankfully my mom and Phil were sleeping off the sex, so I had the kitchen to myself. I began searching though the cupboards for my favorite breakfast food; chocolate pop tarts. I searched for a good five minutes before my eyes happened to graze over the trashcan. There, on the top of the garbage was an empty pop tart box. MY poptart box. I went over to the trashcan, stared down the box and then I just lost my shit and started kicking. "I… fucking… shit…Phil…" I huffed with each kick. Trash was being kicked around all across the kitchen like makeshift soccer balls, but I didn't fucking care. "ISABELLA SWAN!" I heard my mother booming from the kitchen entry way. Ignoring her, I just kept kicking. A second later her hands gripped my shoulders, "BELLA! STOP!" I spun around and without thinking, I shoved her. Hard. She fell to the ground. I should have been horrified that I laid a hand on my mother, instead, I felt empowered. I leaned down and said though clenched teeth, "Do not. Fucking. Touch me." I stood back up, readjusted my backpack and headed out the kitchen, walked though the cluttered living room and out the front door. I made sure to slam it for good measure.
Once out the door I practically ran to my piece of shit truck and hopped inside. After locking the door I placed my head on the steering wheel and inhaled deeply. What the fuck did I just do? I stayed like that for few more moments. I pictured my mom still sprawled out on the kitchen floor. My ass is grass when I get back from school. Deciding that it would be probably be safer not to still be here parked outside of my house, I started up my car, backed out of the driveway and made my way to school.
------
I pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. I hadn't realized I would be here THIS early. I decided to mull things over in my head before having to deal with my shitty classes and lack of friends. I flicked on the radio. Until now, I had driven in silence.
"Jump from a book,
You're not obliged to swallow anything you despise,
See, those unrepenting buzzards want your life,
And they got no right,
As sure as you have eyes,
They got no right…"
I kept replaying a couple lines from the song in my head. "You're not abliged to swallow anything you despise." I didn't have to stay here. I didn't have to take this shit. I glared at my school, the few cars parked nearby. I thought of Phil, and the way my mom chose him over me. My hands tightened on the wheel. There was nothing left for me here. No Jacob. No friends. I didn't even have my mom.
But I did have someone else. Someone far away from here.
I rummaged in my backpack and pulled out my old barely used cell phone. I looked though the contacts and called a number I very rarely dialed. It rang twice before the person picked up.
"Hello? Bella?" They sounded anxious. "Is everything okay? Hello??"
"Dad, I'm moving in."