Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight
Just to any of those who had been reading any of my other stories I'm sad to say I shall not be continuing any of them for pure lack of inspiration.
Summary: Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. I knew I was in a hospital but I didn't open my eyes. I didn't want to. I should be lying in that apartment dead with my mother. AH Em/B R/E A/J
At the age of sixteen I was completely clueless to so much in this world. But things happened and reality hit me hard. Four months after my sixteenth birthday my mother Renee, remarried. I didn't like my new step-father, Phil. He always gave me a bad feeling. When my mom and her new husband returned from their honey moon, Phil would just look at me and smile. I was scared of him to be honest. Then my mother was going to a spa for the weekend. I swallowed hard as I watched her leave. I just knew something was going to happen and that it wasn't going to be good. When my mother had driven out of site Phil grabbed my hand and pulled me into the house roughly. I winced.
"Take the clothes off." He snapped at me. I stared at him horrified. He slapped me hard. "Do it." I did as he told me as he pulled his own off. Tears slid down my face. He shoved me on the ground and raped me. He raped me several times over the time my mother was gone. My mother came home earlier than expected and Phil had been pinning me to the couch. Phil saw my mother before she had the chance to react. He slapped her hard and told her that if she told anyone about this or tried to do anything about it he would kill me. She kept her mouth shut. I was now laying in my bed, that had been three months ago. It had gone from rape to rape and beatings to him bringing friends home for them to use me. I had school the next morning so I tried to close my eyes and fall asleep. But thats hard to do when you are always living in fear. Around one o'clock I fell into a light restless I woke the next morning I was tired. I pulled on some clothes, a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. I used make-up to cover the bruises on my face. My ribs where in constant pain as I walked towards my school. School wasn't much better than home. I was the outcast because I wasn't social and I didn't talk to anyone. The day went well until lunch. When three girls decided it would be a great idea to pour a bucket of water over my head. Fear coursed through me, not because of the water but because it had just wiped all my makeup away. I heard someone gasp loudly. I knew there were seeing the large hand print on my face and the hand prints around my neck were Phil had nearly strangled me to death. I grabbed my bag and got up quickly and tried to go to the door but someone grabbed my hand. It was a teacher. I shook my head and jerked away. I ran home as fast as my feet could carry me. When I walked into the house I heard the sound of water running and saw Phil on the couch. Phil was home early. Shit. Mom must be in the shower.
"What the hell!?" He yelled. "Why are you home? Did you go to school with your bruises showing? What did I tell you I would do it someone found out?!" He ran into the bedroom.
"Please no!" I screamed loudly. But it was to late. I heard a loud crack and my mothers scream. Then he stepped back into the living room, the gun still in his hand. He hit me hard over and over again and I couldn't even defend myself. I heard screaming and sirens. It took me a moment realize they were my screams. He hit me again in the face and everything faded quickly.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. I knew I was in a hospital but I didn't open my eyes. I didn't want to. I should be lying in that apartment dead with my mother.
"Oh my baby." I heard my fathers gruff voice. "My sweet Bella." I blinked my eyes opened and saw my father sitting. I gave him a weak smile. He smiled weakly back.
"How you feeling?" He asked me gently. I took a deep breath and thought for a second.
"Sore." I told him quietly, my voice wasn't much more than a whisper. He nodded.
"Bells baby." He whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Not your fault Daddy." I whispered. Emotion swam in his eyes, I hadn't called him Daddy since I was six. The doctor walked in the room. He smiled.
"Its good to see you awake Isabella." The doctor spoke. "I'm Dr. Roberts. How are you feeling?"
"Sore but its nothing I can't handle." I told him honestly and he nodded.
"Well your set to go." He told me.
My father and I dealt with the paper work and Dad helped me to the car.
"I had your stuff packed and sent to Forks." He told me and I nodded.