The beatings had begun to get worse and worse as I grew older. Anne's new husband, Brian Ingram, would brutally beat Angel and I, scream at us, tell us we're ugly. Angel took it the hardest; Hell, she's only eight. The boys were spared, since they'd moved out quickly. Nudge went with them, following the Gasman around like a lovesick, mocha-coloured dog.
I missed Fang, I missed Nudge and the Gasman, and Iggy…But, really, I couldn't believe they'd just run away in the middle of the night, without Angel and I. I had to be Angel's only support now; Brian had kicked Total out already. I'd gotten a phone call from the Gasman the next day, just to say they were okay and that they had Total. I told him I loved him, in tears, and he just hung up the phone like I'd said nothing.
I 'd become harder, depressed. Brian was so ruthless that, sometimes, even the Voice couldn't console me. I hated the Flock. I mean, not Angel, Angel is my baby. I mean the rest of them. The stupid, heartless assholes that left us. I knew Fang had organized the whole thing, had threatened them with dire consequences if they'd stayed. I hated him the most.
Iggy had been the second, and the last, to call me. When I picked up and he said "Hello, Max", I started to bawl. He shushed me over the phone, told me they were okay and in one piece. He asked how it was with Anne. Still sobbing, I choked out the horrors of hearing Brian molest Angel almost every night. And how Brian had told me that I was probably too lose for him; that I was repeatedly beaten, called a whore. He made me…touch him, all the time. Iggy was crying by then, and told me he had to go, but that he loved me.
That was a month ago, and I'm still asking myself "What kind of love?" It's all so confusing, especially with the move, the molestations, the beatings, the school asking where the newest bruises came from. I skateboarded when I'm livid or depressed, so I just kept telling them I was losing my touch a little on accuracy, with the grinds and three-sixties and all. They accepted that; the idiots.
I was staring out the front bay window of our new home in Forks, Washington, wishing today wasn't Monday and that Brian wouldn't be on his way up here. He'd had to stay an extra month in Virginia to sort out paperwork and affairs at work and make sure he still had his whore's numbers. The sad part is that Anne knew he cheated, that he molested us, that he beat us and tortured us, and yet, she still screwed him; and, judging from the moans we frequently heard, she liked it.
Angel had come to me after her most recent session with Brian in more hysterics than usual. She told me that Anne had held her down this time, that she'd touched her as well. I was so sickened by the thoughts that I blew chunks. Anne told me she'd help me clean them up, but she just locked the door and did to me what she'd done to Angel.
I could take as many beatings as they could throw at me, the words, the torture, the molestation; but Angel was falling apart. She'd developed eating disorders, psychological disorders, and severe depression and insomnia. It pained me to no end to watch my little eight-year-old Angel wither away because of two insane people.
I vowed to myself yesterday that I'd get us out of here. I'd find the rest of the Flock, beat them as hard as I could, and then Angel and I would start our recovery; with or without the others. Preferably without.
"Max," Angel called feebly from the kitchen. I stood up and walked over to her. I noticed the new slits on her wrist and cringed, tugging the sleeves of my shirt down to cover my own self-mutilation, "Anne says to hurry up and go to school. She's got 'friends' coming over soon and she doesn't want us here. She says if we're here when they are, we'll get bad things down to us." I nodded and took her hand.
We both grabbed our packs and quickly vacated the Hell Hole, a.k.a the house, and hoped on our transportation devices: me a skateboard, Angel a bike. We went our separate ways when we came to the fork in the road that split up the land set up for the high school and the land for the elementary school.
When I picked my board up off the asphalt, I knew I'd be the outcast of this school, just like the one in Virginia. I kept my head down as I walked into the building titled 'OFFICE'. Unfortunately, God hates me, so I rammed into a huge guy with curly brown hair. Falling backwards with a gasp, I dropped my board on his foot. He caught me quickly and pulled me up fast before I could fall on my ass and make even more a full of myself. He gave me a broad, beautiful smile and set me back on my feet.
"Careful there, man. You must be the new girl; I'm Emmett Cullen. This is my girlfriend, Rosalie; her twin, Jasper; Jasper's girlfriend, Alice; my brother, Edward; and Edward's girlfriend, Bella. And you are?" he asked, grinning down at me. They all looked relatively friendly, so I answered him.
"Max. Not Maxine or whatever else, just Max. Nice to meet you," I said. Emmett picked me up and swung me in a bear hug, making me gasp and kick him in the gut. He dropped me fast and I bent over my knees, hugging my cracked ribs and whimpering. Edward asked if I was all right. "Fine, fine…just…uh, I fell skateboarding and cracked some ribs…"
I looked up at them and saw someone behind them; someone with messy blonde hair and blue eyes, someone who was pale and tall and nervous-looking…Iggy. Choking on the little air I could take in, I stumbled towards him and threw my arms around him, sobbing into his back. Iggy stiffened, but when he looked down and saw the miserable, sobbing mass that was I, he turned quickly and comforted me quietly.
"Sh, Max, sh. It's okay, it's okay, honey. Please don't cry…" he whispered in my ear, making me cry even harder. He was so sweet… "Please, Max…I love you…" I shook with sobs, clutching him to me as if my life depended on it, which it did. Suddenly, he went rigid. "Back off, Fang."
I looked up, my face wet and eyeliner running down my cheeks. I saw Fang, my former love, standing there with all of the Flock. Little Angel ran to me, crying.
"H-he snatched me up from the p-playground!" she cried, clutching my waist. I kneeled next to her and held her close, knowing that Brian had done it many, many times before.
"Sh, Angel…Sh, baby, it's okay. He's not here, he won't hurt you," I whispered, petting her blonde curly hair and kissing her forehead.
"Who?" Nudge asked curiously. I glared at them and stood as Iggy put a hand on my shoulder.
"Brian, Anne's new husband. A.k.a, the man who molests us. Shocking, isn't it? You spared yourselves and look what happened to us," I snarled at them. Iggy rubbed my back and I wanted to lean back into him and just cry again. The shock and pain on their faces hurt.
"Welcome back," I whispered.