AN I don't own anything accept my story line. Comment for more, hey throw out Ideas I may use them. Oh and I hate writing dialog so I will put as little of it as possible, more thoughts instead.

BPOV

Life has been less than perfect. Much, much, less. Last night was the breaking point, I cant let him do it to me anymore. I have dealt with it for much longer than anyone should have to deal with it. Sitting on this plane I cant help but go over last night, the worst it ever was, and how hurt I am feeling, physically and emotionally, not to mention how fucked up I am mentally.

Laying down in bed like every night, counting down the minutes. I left my door unlocked, there is no point anymore, it will be unlocked anyways. Twelve o'clock on the dot just like every other night for the past two months, you could set a watch to it. Why twelve? Mom is asleep after refusing to put out so I am the next try.

I hear his foot steps down the hall, boom boom boom, like a death sentence. The feet stop and the looming shadow hovers under the door, I wait for the handle. Sure enough the slight squeaking of the handle as it turns sends shivers up my spine. Light creeps in as the door opens, I know what is coming. He walks over to my bed after closing my door, he has a bandana, to cover my mouth, funny though because I know by now to just lay there and be quiet. After I am gagged and tied to my bed, that's a new twist to his sick perverse ways, my tee-shirt which he neglected to remove is ripped away from my body. I am so sickened I zone everything out, my brain doesn't want to remember, all I know is that this time hurt more and left me feeling even completely empty.

I don't want to remember what he did to me. That's why I'm sitting on the 5:30 a.m. flight to Seattle coming from Phoenix, because Phil is a sick, rapist.

My dad doesn't know that I am heading his way, my mom only thinks that I want a break and a chance to see my dad, I think she would die if she really knew. Yeah there will be many issues like enrollment in the middle of the year at a new school, the fact that I haven't seen snow since I was seven, oh and the minor issues of getting to Forks from Seattle.

I am repeating the mantra that I created this morning; this is good, new life, fuck him! My favorite is the ending, just to spite Phil. It really is a great mantra considering what I have been through over the two months. Three months ago I never ever, ever would have said the word fuck, but those nightly visits with small whisperings of "oh fuck Bella, Oh you like when I fuck you" will kind of instill that word into your mind, no matter how sucky the situation.

I must have dosed out for awhile because there is currently a flight attendant that is wearing a little too much makeup and saying "miss we have arrived" spewing out her horrible breath. All I can do is hold my breath and nod. I was getting rather uncomfortable not only with the seats but the pain coming from my "girly bits" you know considering. My minimal amounts of luggage could easily be fixed by the shopping trip I was planning, all my winter clothes are from 02, not exactly ideal for my frame which is ten inches taller and 30 pounds heavier not to mention hips and boobs, gotta love puberty.

I really need a cell phone, mine was chucked out a few days ago, I was mad at it. With all by two bags in hand, I will head over to the pay phone that is about ten feet right of me. Hopefully I have fifty cents in my ratty pocket, oh and success I do. Plop, ca-ching, I dial the number and wait for the other line to pick up.

"hello?"

"Dad?"

"Bella?"

"Dad I'm in Seattle."