Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters and idea behind twilight all belong to Stephanie Meyer

Note: I'm new to the whole fanfic writing business so if you review, please don't be too harsh

His hand connected with my face with such force that it sent me flying backwards onto my desk. An unbelievable streak of pain shot through my back as I folded over the desk and landed, with a thump, face first on the floor. Before I could even make sense of my position on the floor and move he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up. Another blow from his free hand hit me in the ribs. I let out an involuntary cry of pain and in return I felt the back of his hand smack against my mouth. Blood welled up inside my mouth and from my nose. "Bitch!" he said in a quiet yet forceful tone. "I told you to keep quiet. Not that screaming would do you any good. You're nothing but a worthless, good for nothi-" His words were cut short by the sound of a car on our drive. He released his hold on me and I sank to the floor. "Clean yourself up before your mother sees," and walks out of my room.

I picked myself up off the floor, wincing at how much pain this caused me. I walked over to the mirror that hung by my bed to inspect the damage. Blood flowed freely from my nose, my cheek was already beginning to swell and it looked like a black eye was forming. I didn't bother to inspect the rest of my body. Taking Phil's advice I went to the bathroom to clean my face, not that it would do much good. I walked into my room and closed the door firmly behind me. Sinking to my knees with my back against the door I wrapped my arms round myself and started to sob silently.

I don't know how long I was there for before I suddenly realised I had no tears left in me. I took a few tried and breathing deeply and when I was sure I was in control of my emotions again I let myself think.

This had gone too far. At first it had been a slap here and a bruise there but now it had developed into full beatings. My mother didn't understand or didn't believe what was going on, I wasn't sure which. I hoped with all my heart that it was the former. I didn't think that I could handle it if she didn't believe that he would hit me. I prayed that she was just in denial, that way I didn't have to blame her.

My back throbbed and I knew that the damage was more serious this time. This couldn't go on any longer and there were very few options available to me. I ran through them in my head, agonising over which course of action I should take. I don't know why it took me so long to come to this conclusion. In all honesty I should have left the first time he hit me. And it was this thought that propelled me. I would get the hell out of here and go see my dad.

As soon as the decision was made I sprang into action with as much effort as I could manage without making the pain worse. I opened my bedroom door and stuck my head out, listening and looking for signs of Renee and Phil. I could hear them both downstairs laughing. I snuck out into the hall and got my suitcase from the cupboard and quickly ran back into my room with it, immediately filling it with the essential items I would need like my jumpers and parka. It only occurred to me after I had everything I would need packed that Charlie would very obviously be surprised to see me on his doorstep. I never go to Forks anymore and barely see him throughout the year. We talk on the phone sometimes but those conversations are awkward and short-lived. I wrestled with the idea of calling him to ask or simply warn about my arrival but decided against it. I didn't want him calling my mum to ask why I suddenly felt the need to live in a place I hated. But most of all I couldn't handle the idea that he might reject me and not want me staying with him. A sensible part of my brain told me this fear was irrational – that he is my father and would love to have me living with him, however, the rejection from loved ones was something I was getting a lot of round here and it seemed too much to hope that it wouldn't extend as far as Forks. Hopefully my dad wouldn't be able to turn me away if I was already on his doorstep.

I went to the bathroom to do a final sweep to make sure I had all the toiletries I needed when something caught my eye. It was my mother's make-up bag. I had never really bothered with make-up before but as I looked at the now clear bruises on my face I decided that now was as good a time as any to start. The only problem was that my mother's skin was many shades more tan than mine. Her foundation, and my biggest chance of hiding the bruises, would be too dark for me. Instead I settled for just using the concealer to hide as much as I could. It didn't help much.

Then a new problem occurred to me. How was I going to get the suitcase down the stairs and out the door without my mum and stepdad noticing? I'd never exactly been a master at stealth. I could either try my luck or wait till night. Despite my track record I decided to try my luck; I couldn't stand the idea of staying here even a second longer than I had to now that I was set on leaving.

I crept down the stairs as quietly as was physically possible to check on what my parents were doing. My mum was on the sofa watching her favourite soap opera so I wouldn't have to worry about her. I looked round for Phil. He was in the kitchen, pouring himself a beer as he flicked through the sports channels on the second tv screen. Now was my chance. I ran upstairs grabbed my suitcase and all the money I had saved up over the past few months and made my escape ignoring the painful protests of my body.

I couldn't believe it when I was able to leave the house without them catching sight of me but still felt the need to run the first few blocks. I reached the main stretch of road and hailed down the first taxi that passed me. I practically flung myself and my suitcase inside the taxi earning me a surprised look from the driver. This look instantly turned to shock as he took in the state of my face. "Airport please," I said, amazed that I could still manage words at this point. I refused to look behind me as the cab sped off and felt myself relaxing the farther from the house I got. The downside to this was that I finally started to properly notice the blinding pain in my back, side and arm. Well, my injuries would have to wait. Right now I my only focus was Forks.

When we reached the airport I paid the driver and apologised for not being able to give him a tip. He just gave me a sad smile. I bought a ticket for the first flight to Washington available. A few hours later and I was getting my connection to Port Angeles. By the time I arrived in Port Angeles it was 2 o'clock in the morning. Not exactly wanting to drop in on Charlie in such early hours of the morning I opted for a bench in the bus station. Usually this is where Charlie would come pick me up and drive me to his house during my previous visit this depressing town. I fought back tears as a wave of nostalgia hit me before falling into an uneasy sleep.

I only got a couple of hours sleep but it was enough to keep me going. It was almost 5.30am and I decided that this wasn't too early a time to seek out my father, after all as the chief of police he would already be up by now. The taxi to Forks took just over an hour and I felt my stomach turn over as it pulled over next to my dad's house. The cruiser was still parked out the front meaning he hadn't left for work yet. I didn't know whether to feel glad or more worried about this.

I took a deep breath to steady much self and walked up to the front door wheeling my suitcase behind me. After a few hesitant seconds I knocked.

When Charlie answered I studied all the different emotions that passed across his face. First was complete and utter puzzlement which seemed to turn to joy as he realised who I was, but this was almost instantly replaced by horror at the sight of my appearance. "Bella?"

"Hi, dad" was simply all I said to him.

It took him a minute to reaffirm himself with reality but when he did he pulled me into a tight hug – which I immediately pulled out of, wincing at the physical pain his action caused. He gave me another once over, obviously concerned. "Bella what happened to you?"

So what do you think? Hopefully I will get to update soon but all depends on how much free time I have over the coming weeks.