Chapter 1

Jade's POV

Today was finally Friday and I was secretly thrilled that I would be spending the weekend with Beck. Of course, I didn't show it, cause I knew how much Beck would tease me if he knew I was happy that I could spend the next two days in his cramped little RV with him.

Anyway, before the glorious time started, I just had to go home first to finish off some homework. Both Beck and I knew that it wouldn't get finished while we were together, and Beck had finally given me a lecture about how I should do it myself, instead of copying off of him all the time, especially since some of our teachers had begun to get suspicious. Most of them, actually, Sikowitz nonwithstanding.

Beck poked me lightly, jolting me out of my thoughts. I glared at him. "What?"

He grinned. "Sorry to interrupt, ma'am, but we've arrived at our destination." He gestured to the large stone house in front of us. It was almost a little too large and sophisticated for the rest of the neighborhood. My parents disgust me with their need to be all elegant and have our property stand out from everyone else's. I think it would be nice if our house was small and black with few windows and doors- and maybe a moat with live snakes swimming in it. Too bad we don't always get what we want.

I sighed and turned to Beck to say bye, but something in the corner of my eye made me freeze. A black Mercedes sat in our driveway. I glared at it. What's that doing here...

Beck waved his hand in front of my face. "Earth to Jade..."

I turned quickly to give him a deathstare. "What's wrong with you? Can't I have time to think? Just because you never think doesn't mean I don't!"

Beck sighed. "Okay, what's bothering you?"

"Humankind," I muttered as I shoved his car door open.

Beck snorted. "I could have guessed as much. So you are going to show up later, right?" He was grinning to himself, and I knew he was trying to annoy me.

Which is why I smiled in an overly-sweet, un-Jade-ish way. "Yes I am, honey!"

He looked at me strangely. "Honey? What's wrong with you? Now you like me all of a sudden?"

I rolled my eyes and slammed the car door."Don't flatter yourself."

As I stalked to my front door, Beck called, "Bye Jadey!"

I turned to glare at the leaving car and yelled, "Never call me that unless you want to die young!"

As I got to the door, I could have sworn I saw Beck smile through his car window. I sighed, wishing I could go with him, and pulled the key out of my pocket. Taking my time, I very slowly inserted it into the keyhole and turned the knob to open the door.

The second the door opened, I regreted even bothering to come home. My father was passed out on the couch, still wearing a suit and tie. What looked like a dozen (I'm not counting) beer bottles surrounded him on the floor and coffee table. Our huge flat screen TV blasted some sort of old rock and roll movie, complete with long-haired, oily-skinned men screaming out curse-word filled lyrics.

I walked quietly over to the couch and very gently reached out to take the TV remote out of my father's hand. The instant I touched it, I knew I was in trouble.

My father, who seemed to have come back to life, leaped up and let out a roar. "Jadelyn! What the fuck are you doing, creeping up on me like that? You ungrateful little bitch, can't you see I'm trying to rest? I work all day-"

I glared at him, then turned on my heel and ran up to my room, not bothering to listen to the rest of his drunken rant. I slammed my door closed behind me and locked it, then stopped with my back against the door, gasping for breath. I hated that man with something fierce. He may have been my father, and maybe he payed all the bills so I could stay in this town with my friends, most importantly Beck, but he never really loved me. As I stood there, I had a flashback to a time when I was five years old.

I was curled up in my little bed, surrounded by stuffed animals, and my favorite one, my stuffed tiger who I had appropriately named Fighter, was in my arms. I pulled my fluffy pink blanket over my head, trying to block out the sounds of my father yelling and my mother's screams.

"I work my butt off for you and this little bitch, and what do I get out of it? Nothing! Nothing! I'm tired of this! I'm done here!" I heard a slapping sound, and my mother screamed again.

I shivered and pushed the blanket off of me, then let go of my tiger. "Fighter," I whispered. "I'm going to help mommy. If I don't come back soon, please come help me." I kissed him, wishing he could really answer, then padded across my room and slipped out of the door and down the hall to my parents room, where I stayed outside the door, watching the scene through the doorway.

My mother was lying on the bed, whimpering in pain, and my father stood above her, bringing his fist down to hit her over and over again. When he saw me, he smiled, and lunged at me, slapping me clean across my face. I let out a yelp, and my mother screamed, "John! Please, not Jade."

He smirked at me, then grabbed his black duffle bag and stormed out. I heard the front door slam, and I leaped onto the bed, horrified at the bruises and marks on my mother's face.

I gasped, snapping back to reality as I heard my father shouting and heavy footsteps coming up the stairs towards me. I jumped and ran to my dresser, pulling out clothes and throwing them in, just as I heard a pounding on my door. My father shouted, "Jadelyn! Open that door now, you little bitch!"

I looked around, before stopping my gaze at the window and shaking my head. It was too high, I would never make it without breaking something. I slowly turned back to my bedroom door, knowing that it was the only possible way I had of getting out of the house and going to Beck's house. With dread, I walked over and unlocked the door, and my father wrenched it open and lunged at me. He aimed his fist straight for my stomach, and I leaped out of the way. But he was quick.

With one movement, he had grabbed my arm and flung me to the ground, kicking me hard in the side over and over. I gasped for breath, already feeling faint, then closed my eyes as he punched me again, over and over, until I barely felt it anymore.

Hours later, I woke up in a cold sweat. I was still lying on the floor, and I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I slowly sat up, gasping with pain as I did so, and pulled it out. Beck was calling me. "Beck." I said out loud slowly, testing my voice, before deciding it was way too shaky and that Beck would immediately realize something was wrong when he heard it. I hesitantly pressed "Ignore" on my phone's touch screen, then reached for the side of my bed to pull myself up. Slowly, I walked to my bathroom and flipped on the light switch, before turning to stare at myself in the mirror. Looking at my face, it was clear that he had missed it, because besides for my messy hair and slightly smeared make-up, I looked just fine, I realized with relief. But then I lifted my shirt, and looked at my stomach and hips, which were completely bruised.

I sighed and stripped off my clothes before climbing into the shower and adjusting the showerhead to a gentle spray. After I was done, I felt a little better, so I climbed out and wrapped myself in a fluffy towel, then made my way back into my bedroom, where I pulled on dark blue skinny jeans and a thin but stretchy plain black long-sleeved top. I brushed my hair out and applied dark eyeliner to my eyes and some red lipstick to my lips. Finally, I slipped into my black combat boots and laced them up, then stood to examine myself in the mirror again. There. I looked about the same as I always did. Then I reached for the bag I had packed earlier and grabbed my phone, before turning off all of my lights and heading downstairs quietly, in case my dad was still there. On the way down, however, I looked out a hall window and saw the empty driveway, so I proceeded out of the door and began to walk the two blocks to Beck's house.