A.N. Hey everybody! So this is my very first fanfiction and it may be a little rusty. Most of the stories that I have planned are based off Twilight. I will be writing mainly about the wolves and their imprints, but all the imprints will be my own characters. Be warned, I absolutely hate Bella Swan and the Jacob/Renesmee pairing, so there will be Bella bashing and Jacob/OC. Anyway I hope you enjoy this and please be nice in the reviews, this is my first story. Without further ado, I present to you the first chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. I only own this plot and my original characters. Also this story will not be happy all throughout. The starting is a little dark, but it definitely will get sunnier. CAUTION. If you cannot handle physical/verbal abuse, please don't read this. As I said it'll only be dark for a little while. ENJOY!
"Get down you piece of shit and pick that up!" Tony shouted. I scrambled down to my knees and began picking the shards of glass up, my hands trembling with every piece. A kick was sent directly towards my ribs, making me cringe in pain.
"Worthless bitch." He muttered and walked off. I just lay there on the floor, tears silently streaming down my face. I finished cleaning up the mess and limped to my room, begging that he would not see me. I walked to my bathroom, dreading seeing my face in the mirror. My jet black hair was knotted in every which way, my lip was split, blood still oozing out and my cheek was bright red. I gently lifted up my shirt, revealing a trail of purple bruises. My grey eyes were puffy from crying, bags hanging underneath them. I was just glad that the bruises weren't that visible on my tan skin. I sighed and cleaned myself up, getting ready to collapse on my bed.
You see, I used to have a happy functioning family, but it all changed the minute my mom married that jackass, Tony. My dad left us when I was just a tiny one year old. Everything was alright at the start, we laughed, we joked – we smiled. However, little by little Tony began showing who he really was. He started heavily drinking and even resorted to beating my mom whenever he had the chance. One of my earliest memories was my mom telling me to hide underneath the table, to avoid the upcoming wrath. He beat her to a point that you couldn't tell where her nose, eyes and mouth were.
When I was in seventh grade, I came home to find Tony gone, but my mom's car was still there. She was supposed to be at work. I remember creeping inside the house, looking for my mom. I ran up to her bedroom and screamed at what lay in front of me. My mom lay on the crimson sheets, both of her wrists had been slit. I ran outside screaming for help, hoping somebody would listen to my plea. But it was too late to save her. Ever since then I've been living in this hell house, wondering when I'll have the chance to be free. School was no better. I was known as the emo bitch that rejected all forms of happiness. I swear, my name is the total opposite of who I am, Halo Ash Shaw.
I dropped on my bed and immediately my eyes started to droop.
I was standing in a sea of mist, tendrils swirling around my body. I couldn't see anything past the fog, but I felt like I was being watched. I took a cautious step forward, and then another and then another. All of a sudden, I was running as if my life depended on it. From what, I don't know, but I could faintly hear the word 'escape' being repeated over and over again. The gentle murmur gradually increased into a whisper, then a fully audible sound. But that's when it started to go wrong. The mist began turning black, my sight was being drained and the gentle chant was now a continuous screech, surrounding me from every angle.
"ESCAPE! ESCAPE! ESCAPE!" It screamed and screamed. I shot up in my bed, sitting in a pool of my own sweat. What the hell was that? Was it some sort of sign, that maybe I should be escaping this dump? I made a plan. Everyday after school, I would slowly pack my bags and when the time was right, I would make a run for it. I would find a nice place to live by myself, away from all my troubles and worries. Away from all the pain. With that thought in the back of my mind I cautiously drifted off into an uneasy slumber.
The continuous shrill of my alarm clock signalled the start of another day in hell. I got ready for school in record time, just praying to God that Tony was still sleeping. I guess it was God's day off today, because as soon as I hopped off the last stair, I was thrown five feet away. The breath got knocked out of me and I struggled to suck in some air. Pain erupted on my left side as I slowly picked myself up, remembering to avoid eye contact.
"You were supposed to be making food for me you lazy ass!" He yelled, starting my day with the brightest of moods. Note the fucking sarcasm. He spat on me and stumbled back to his worn couch. I guess I got lucky that he left me alone. I wiped my tears away, grabbed my keys and ran out the door. My beautiful '69 Chevy Impala sat there in all her glory. I worked my ass off trying to save up for her. It was so worth it.
I pulled into my shitty school, got out and walked in, ignoring all the stares and whispers. They always found a way to bring up Tony or my mother. In this town, word gets around quickly so my life was basically an open book. Our school quarterback, Dylan, was the worst of them all. Wonder what he'll say today.
"Hey yo freak! Did daddy hit you again?" He snickered with the rest of his posse. I simply ignored him and kept walking. I heard loud footsteps behind me and suddenly I was pushed against the lockers.
"Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you, you bitch!" He yelled. "Why don't you do us all a favour and kill yourself. Do exactly what mommy did. Save us the trouble of looking at your shitty face every day!"
My eyes brimmed with burning tears, but I refused to let them fall in front Dylan. I brought my knee up directly into his groin and made a run for it. I heard him shouting and running after me but I kept on running. I sped through the roads, finally reaching my house. But now I was on a roll. I wasn't going to keep up with this bullshit. I wasn't going to deal with this crap that they kept shoving down my throat. Thankfully Tony wasn't at home, probably gone bar hopping again. I ran up the stairs and threw every piece of clothing, every picture and every little trinket into a couple of suitcases. Once I was done I chucked them in the back of my car and went back up to my room. I wanted to leave, but where would I live? Technically, being eighteen meant that I was a legal adult. I opened my laptop and went house searching.
For the next few days, I stayed in the same clothes and refused to come out of my room. Even when Tony came banging on my door, so hard that I was afraid it would break, I kept searching. I wanted to go somewhere quiet, small and far away from here. Every night, the same nightmare would repeat itself, the chanting getting louder every time, if that was even possible. I eventually stumbled upon a little reservation, just north of where I lived called, La Push. I browsed different houses until I landed on this beautiful house, just within my budget.
Before my mom died, she wanted that all her life savings were to go to me if anything happened. So on my eighteenth birthday, I received a shit-ton and I mean a shit-ton of money. It would last me for a very very long time. I bought the house and planned my escape that night. At 1 am I snuck downstairs and grabbed my keys. I tip-toed to my room, made sure that I had everything and climbed out of my window. I ran to my car, turned it on and with a last glance at my past, I flew down the empty road, hoping my future held some joy.
A.N. So, what did you think? Was it a bit rushed? I wanted to get the horrible parts over and done with so I can focus on the good stuff. Please review to let me know how I can improve. I am open to constructive criticism as I believe it helps a writer to blossom into a successful author. Looking forward to your comments!