~~Chapter 1Age 8)~~
Paul walks into the living room from school, he already knows to be quiet so he doesn't wake up James Lahote. Paul knows that he is probably passed out on the couch drunk, and knows that if James wakes up and is in a bad mood he will be covered in bruises until his mom Tara comes home, then Tara takes his attention from her eight year old son.
Paul makes it across the living room, before a half full beer bottle shatters inches from his head, drenching him in beer and glass. Paul looks behind him to see James sitting up on the couch, half awake covered in sweat and beer. James looks to have not showered when he came in from his piss-poor job and just passed out since his eyes are bloodshot and his hair unruly.
"What did I tell your stupid ass 'bout coming into this house before eight?" He slurs and Paul gulps.
"Not to come home till after eight so you don't have to see me. I would have went to the after school pro-." Paul gets cut off by a large hand across his face. He grits his teeth and looks up angrily at his so called father.
"Get. Out." James snarls and Paul leaves the house.
~A few hours later~
Paul slowly walks into the living room once again, looking for James. He doesn't see him so he heads to his room, which he shouldn't have done. Walking into his tiny room, he sees that his bed is on the floor and everything that he had, which wasn't much: a baseball and bat, and some playing cards and a few toys, were all gone. The only thing that was in his room besides his mattress was a crate full of his raggedy clothes.
"Where is my dresser?" He asks himself.
"Had to sell it to get food Paul." His mother Tara whispers from behind him, he turns to see her face covered in makeup that's too dark and blotchy. She came home before James left and somehow pissed the volatile man off.
"He spent all his damn money on liquor and drugs." Paul grumbles closing his door.
"You stupid bitch! I thought I told you to have my dinner in the oven when I got home? You're so stupid, can't do anything besides spread those legs huh?" Paul hears his father yelling from down the hall, he gets up and slips out the door. He slowly makes his way down the hallway, it looks like the livingroom has been turned into a boxing ring, because James is cracking his knuckles and slinging his mother around. He lands punches to her face and abdomen. After a few moments his mother sees him and mouths 'Go back to bed'. James snaps her arm and stomps on her ankles making his mother scream out.
Paul turns and runs back to his room, climbs out of his bedroom window and runs to the Black house, a little ways down the hall.
"What's gotten into you, Paul? It's midnight." Billy Black grumbles as he opens the door, his wheelchair bound form still in day clothes, showing he hasn't went to bed yet.
"W-will you call an ambulance? He broke her arm and her ankles. We're out of ace bandages and braces." Paul whimpers. Billy nods pulling the boy into the house and calling Forks.
"I broke a bone today too." A soft voice tells him from his left. He looks up to see a pale girl on a hospital bed next to him, her eyes large and chocolate brown, her hair pulled into a high ponytail.
"What bone?" He asks not seeing a cast, she lifts the blanket from her legs to show a green cast on her right leg.
"I fell out of a tree." She says blushing. Paul shows her his dark blue cast on his left arm.
"My dad did this." He tells her, he knows that it isn't any of her business because she isn't part of the tribe but he doesn't care anymore.
"I'm Bella." She says waving, he smiles a tiny smile.
"I'm Paul."