Chapter 1
Bella
Every morning starts the same way and every morning I open my eyes feeling the same way. My alarm clock blares telling me I have to get moving and all I can think of is why... Why do I have to get up? Why can't I just stay in bed? Why does my life have to start the same way every day? I'm sick of doing the same thing day in and day out Not living, just existing.
I slowly make my way out of bed to my shower, picking up my uniform from the morning before along the way. The water is cold, as usual, and wakes me up quickly. I scrub my hair, my face and my body with as little of the frigid water possible. Shivering, I dress quickly and make my way to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea, there isn't any time to eat as per usual.
My room mate Alice is getting her coat on by the door. She always looks more presentable then I do. And she always manages to eat some food before we head off to work. Then again she can function on four hours of sleep every night, I'm a zombie even after eight. Our uniforms are matching, although hers doesn't look like it spent the night on the floor. Pale purple with a white collar and hem, with a button up front and modest knee length. The cleaning company insignia sits on top of our left breast and name tag on the right.
Isabella, it reads, although I've never been called that. Bella is fine. Simple like me, like my uniform.
We head out into the cold January morning walking briskly. The subway isn't far from our apartment, thank god, I hate the cold. Alice and I always joke and say that one day when we are rich we will live in perpetual summer and never be cold and pale.
We arrive at our building and receive our schedule for the day. Everyday is different, sometimes we are sent out to clean small houses or apartments, other days it's big mansions or penthouses. I don't really care what I get assigned so long as I get something. Today however is my one consistent weekly job. It's a large house about 15 minutes out of the city. I'm expected to clean the entirety of the bottom floor and the bathrooms on the second floor. The third floor is to be left undisturbed. It takes me four hours to clean, leaving me with plenty of time to wash up before class starts at 12 pm.
I say goodbye to Alice and make my way outside, back into the cold. The city has woken up a little more in the last half hour, along with the wind. Venders are setting up, cabs are driving around, people are working out. I head towards the subway and make my way to Mr. Cullen's home. I've never met the man. Never even seen him around the house. But it's always clean every week when I return. I'd almost think there wasn't any sign of life except for the pile of dirty laundry left for me to clean in the same basket, by the same bedroom door and the same six suits for me to drop at the dry cleaners on my way home./p
I begin by starting the laundry, there's always enough for two loads, even though half of the clothes look relatively clean. I set the alarm on my phone match the timer on the washer, plug in my head phones and start listening to my music. The first two hours go as expected and when my alarm sounds I begin the next load of washing.
As I make my way to the top floor I hear a noise, it's muffled from my head phones, but I definitely recognise the distinct sound of glass breaking on wooden floors. I think to myself that it's probably Mr. Cullen's cat. I've seen it around every few weeks, it seems to just come and go when it likes. Annoyed about the extra cleaning, I make my way into the kitchen, ready to throw the cat out. But, there, standing in the middle of Mr Cullen's kitchen is a man with a gun, rinsing the blood off his hands at the kitchen sink. And blood splattered glass covers the floor.
I gasp when I see him, he's tall, extremely tall, dressed in black from head to toe and as he turns I see one side of his face his marred by deep, red, angry scars. He quickly turns towards me, gun outstretched and ready to shoot. I turn to run but I fall, forgetting the cleaning supplies at my feet./p
The man is standing over me, his big heavy, booted foot is placed in between my shoulder blades, pinning me to the ground. "Wasn't 'specting you." He sneers. "You're a pretty little thing, shame to just kill you without enjoying ya first." Before I know it my dress is hiked up and my panties are pulled down. He kneels behind me and points the gun to the back of my head. "Stay." He orders gruffly.
"Please, don't." I beg, finally finding my voice. I've never been with a man before, I'm a virgin in every sense of the word and I can't believe it's going to be stripped of me in this horrible, violent way. Never did I ever think this would happen. I was a college student from Nebraska, trying to make a life in Seattle, who had never even had a boyfriend before. How could this be happening? Why was this happening?
I struggled to break free as I felt his fingers touch me in my most intimate places and bile rose in my throat in response. I would not give up. I would fight until the very end. I kicked my legs and opened my mouth, screaming with everything I could. His hold loosened, not expecting me to be as strong as I am. I scrabbled to my feet, begging myself not to trip on my feet.
The kitchen door, that's what I needed. I needed to escape. I jumped over the man and into the kitchen. My fingers reaching for the door handle, but I'm pulled away. The man stands towering over me. He roughly grabs my arm in his left hand and swings me around, my back meeting the heavy oak cupboards, knocking the wind out of me. I look to my side, to my salvation. A knife. This is it. My freedom. But it comes at a price, his death. I shoot my hand out, grabbing the knife and running forward, plunging it into his chest. In the background I hear a bang, it resonates through my body, making it vibrate from head to toe. I fall to the ground, not feeling the pain in my shoulder as I do so. As I fall I hit my head on something and everything goes black...