Hey guys it's Dani and Melissa! This is actually Melissa's account but we decided to make a story together.
Note: This is a love triangle between J/B/E. In the end of this story you will find out who she chooses, so read at your own risk. I'm Dani and I'm Team Edward all the way and Melissa is Team Jacob all the way. If you want to check out my story "Ocean Wind" (which is Edward/B) then check out my account: http:/www.fanfiction.net/u/2135667/ItsATwilightThing13
Warning: This story involves graphic physical abuse, sexual abuse & mental abuse. It also involves cutting and alchohalic drinking. If any of these topics are triggering to you I advise you to not read this. Read at your own risk.
Disclaimer: We do not own Twilight or any of its characters.
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
I groaned. Stupid alarm clock. I quickly slam my hand down on the 'Stop' button and rolled back in bed covering my head with my hands. Damn, my head hurts like crazy. I could feel each time my heart beat the pain in my head would throb worse. I sat up and only realized then that I was completely stark naked. The previous activity's of last night quickly flashed through my head.
**Flashback: previous night**
Its 8 pm and I'm trying to finish up my dishes before Charlie gets home. I make dinner for myself because every Sunday and Friday night Charlie goes and gets dinner at the diner. Please God, don't let him come home drunk, that would just make the beatings worse. Unless he had something else in mind for me tonight… I shuddered.
Right then I here a car pool up on our driveway. I freeze. My hands instantly stop scrubbing the dishes, I'm frozen in fear and can't do anything about it. I can feel my heart beat rising. In no time I heard the door slams shut hard with a loud BANG! Oh no. He was definitely drunk. My breath caught in my throat when I feel strong arms wrap around my waist, but not in the comforting way.
"Hello pretty baby," he whispered in my ear. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.
I didn't respond as I started struggling and writhing frantically in his arms. I knew what was going to happen next. I just couldn't accept it. He must of got tired of my weak attempts to get away 'cause he turns me around to face him, and slaps me hard on the face. I'm stunned for a moment, only a moment, but a moment to long because he grabs me by my hair and painfully starts pulling me up the stairs. I can hear screaming and shrieking; it sounded so distant. It was only moments later that I realized it was me.
Charlie leads me to my room, (he doesn't like his bed sheets covered in blood and since my bed is smaller he says the closer the better) I try to hold on to the door ledge, but he quickly punches me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. He pushes me on top of the bed roughly; my head hit's the bed frame with a bang, everything goes dizzy and distant and I cant keep my head strait, for which I'm thankful. I can feel his wet sloppy kisses on my lips, I can feel them traveling lower to my neck, still lower… the next thing I know my shirt goes off. Then next my pants. Before I realize it my panties are torn laying on my bedroom floor and he's inside me, moving, moving… and everything goes black…
**End of Flashback**
As the memories from the previous night come rushing back to me like a tidal wave, I can feel myself trembling. Pain.. Oh so much pain… stop, it needs to stop… please, no more… please no… more. Before I realize it I feel a sharp pain slicing through my wrist. I can feel the adrenaline and physical pain take over the emotional pain. I invite the new pain with gratitude and relief.
I exhale. I hadn't even realized I was holding my breath or that I had even gotten my hidden razor out of my drawer in the first place. The razor drops to the ground with a clank. I look down to see a puddle of blood start to pool at my feet. I quickly grabbed a towel that is also stuffed in the drawer along with some bandages. I soaked up all the blood on the floor, grabbed my destroyed panties, shirt, and pants and put them in the hamper and grabbed a long t-shirt and pulled it on. I ran down the stairs as fast as I could while trying not to trip, holding a cupped hand under my still bleeding wrist trying not to let the blood drip on the floor.
Once I got to the kitchen I put my hand under the tap water letting the blood run down the drain. I shut off the sink and put a rag to my wound. It wasn't bleeding as much as before but it was still bleeding a little to much for comfort. I grabbed disinfecting spray and quickly cleaned and patched my wound up. I was very careful when I cut, I always cleaned them afterwards so they don't get infected. Infections could lead to illness. Illness could lead to hospitals. And hospitals will lead to trouble.
I sit down at the kitchen table and hold my still throbbing wrist. I don't eat any breakfast because it is Charlie's rule that I can only eat food with him around, the only acception with Friday and Sunday nights. So since I woke up late and Charlie had already left for work as police chief of Forks (figures) I get to starve today, unless Charlie allows me to eat with him tonight or I'm able to get something to eat at lunch today. I'm sitting there for a while when I realize I should be getting ready for school soon. So I march up the stairs, and looked in my closet for a pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. The good thing about living up here in cold, rainy Forks was that it isn't suspicious of why I always wore long sleeved shirts and pants. I had the perfect excuse.
I quickly slipped on skinny jeans and a red long sleeved shirt, tugging at the sleeves trying to cover up my already blood soaked bandage. I sighed. My stomach and faced were sore and achy from the blows they received last night and I looked in the mirror to find a pretty large sized bruise on the left side of my face. I quickly pulled out my cover up I kept under my bed and tried to hide the bruise as best I could. I could always make up a story for the bruise… say I tripped and slammed my face into the corner of a wall. Yes, that will work. I glanced at my clock to see that I still had about twenty more minutes till I had to leave for school so I layed down on my bed, my back to the bed as I stared at the ceiling and laid my hands on my sore stomach. I closed my eyes and tried to banish the memories of last night and thought happy thoughts. I should have known better. My thoughts went to my mother, Renee of course and with them came the other horrible flood of memories.
The first time Charlie ever touched me I was only five years old, and Charlie was still my sweet daddy. I remember whenever mommy wasn't home he would say:
"Hey baby B, you want to play a game with me?"
" What kind of game Daddy?" I asked, always eager to play a new game.
"Its called 'The Secret Game'" He murmured into my ears. "And you can't tell anyone about it, not anyone, not even Mommy. You got that baby B?"
I quickly nodded.
I remember during the 'Secret Game' he would touch me all over my body tickling me while I didn't have any clothes on. He even touched me in the places Mommy called my 'girly parts'. Mommy told me to never let anyone ever touch me there unless it was her bathing me. I told Daddy this and he said that he's my daddy and it's alright for him to touch me there. I told him OK.
The game continued for months whenever Mommy went out somewhere. Soon, I didn't want to play anymore. I was tired of it. I wanted something new to play. I told daddy this one night, but I wasn't expecting his reaction.
" You do not decide what games we play young lady! You belong to me! I can do what I want with you, when I want!" He screamed in outrage. He then lifted up my small yellow sundress and pushed his hand in between my legs. I screamed. It hurt. It felt like I was being stretched open. Again and again it went in and out… in and out. I kept on screaming and crying, I even tried to hit him but he wasn't having that and pushed me to the ground with my hands above my head trapped. The ripping pain of what his hand was doing to me didn't make any sense. What was happening? Why did it hurt? Why was Daddy hurting me?
"Daddy please stop! STOP! STOP NOW!" I shrieked.
Amazingly the pain stopped. Daddy looked strait at me. There was something wrong with his eyes. This wasn't my Daddy. This was an evil man, who wanted to hurt me. Realizing this I quickly started to struggle again, but it was no use. He was too strong.
"Oh so you wanna play a different game, do ya baby?" He growled in my ear.
He then proceeded to pick me up and slung me over his shoulder. His arm wound around my waist as I kept struggling and screaming and pounding at his back to get loose. Again it was no use. He climbed up the stairs with me still on his back and started heading towards his bedroom, which was only the room next to mine. He grabbed my tiny hips and pulled me off him and onto the bed. I laid fanned out across the bed on my back. He looked down at me and I remember seeing the crazed hunger in his eyes. I didn't understand it then, but now I was far to familiar with those eyes.
He had leaned down started kissing me. All over. I was confused to say the least. My pants were already off and you quickly did away with my undies. His clothes were off too now and he was on top of me. I remember he was heavy, and I couldn't breathe. He was breathing hard in my ears, his breath warm and moist against my skin. I felt something hard pushing from between my legs. Then there was pain. So much pain. It felt like I was being split in two. I remember screaming out in agonizing cries as hot tears ran down my face. I didn't remember how much time past… It could have been minutes, maybe hours, seconds…I didn't know. I just remember, as he heaved over me, just staring at my torn underwear on the old brown carpet. They had small cartoon prints of Dora the Explorer on them; she was my favorite TV show. It was just so innocent. MY innocence… it was gone. The last of it was taken away that night and I had no control of it.
"Tell Mommy and I'll kill you both." he whispered in my ear that night as he was tucking me back in my own bed.
The pain continued again and again for 4 years. The older I got, and the more harder I struggled the harder he would start hitting me. He started drinking more and at first I was grateful 'cause he would sometimes pass out drunk before our usual "session" would begin. But I soon learned that the more drunk he was, the more violent he was. And I soon dreaded coming home from school everyday to my drunken father. By the time I was eight I noticed that Charlie and Mom would start fighting… more and more often every night.
Then one day it happened. Not long after my ninth birthday, Mom packed both our bags and we left Charlie. I guess she thought I was confused and sad because she told me that it was just destiny that her and Charlie weren't meant to be together. It struck me then. She didn't know. She didn't know. And so not to give her anymore grief that she already had for taking me away from him, I didn't tell her. We moved to Phoenix, Arizona; a completely different world from rainy Forks, Washington. And I was happy about that. But every year I would dread the upcoming summer time, because that was when I had to go up and visit Charlie for two whole weeks. A lot can happen in two weeks. The beatings got worse every time I visited. So did our "special nights" alone together. Renee never noticed a thing. Then one summer when I was twelve years old I had had enough. I couldn't take another summer with him. Even if it was only for two weeks. I begged and screamed for Renee not to send me back their. Renee asked me over again and again why I was so scared to go back to Forks to live with my father for only two weeks. But I refused to say a word about it. His words rang through my ears from all those years ago…
"Tell Mommy and I'll kill you both."
I was so scared that someone I loved was going to get hurt. Or killed. But soon as the oncoming summer soon arrived and I was due to go back to live with Charlie…I broke. I told her everything, well almost everything-take out the rape. She didn't believe it at first and thought I was joking but she soon came to realize that I was not. She went into hysterics after that. She had reached for the phone about to call the police, but I grabbed her and pled with her to not put 'Dad' in jail. I lied. I told her that is she could just talk to Charlie and have him go into rehabilitation then he would get better. I told her that he was a good dad. Lies. They were all lies. Why didn't I let her tell the cops? Because I still believed in his lies. I still sometimes do.
Renee called Charlie and he agreed to her conditions. He went into rehabilitation and for years I didn't see him once. I thought the worst was finally over, that I would never have to go back there again. I was sowrong. When I was fifteen Renee got remarried to Phil Dwyer, a baseball player, and she became Mrs. Dwyer. I also became Bella Dwyer. Phil made my mom happy, he completed her. The only problem was that since Phil coached baseball, and he had to travel to different places all the time. Which meant we had to follow him. Don't get me wrong I loved my mom and Phil…I just hated always having to pack, plane rides, new school, new friends… It was a hard thing to handle all at once for me. I wished I'd just kept my mouth shut. Only a year after Renee and Phil got married, Renee decided that it was time for me to go live with Charlie again-he had been sober for years now. I couldn't help but hate Renee for sending me back to him, although I new she had only did it in the best intentions. She had wanted me to have a normal life, make friends, fall in love, go to college-without having to move to a different state every time Phil was fired or got signed on to a different team.
From what Renee told me, Charlie had agreed immediately and was ecstatic to have his 'baby girl' back home. Only a week later was my bag packed and I was heading back to the little rainy town called Forks that I referred to as Hell. The minute I had walked through the door of my old home (which looked exactly the same as I remembered it ) I was hit on the side of my head and I slammed against the wall with a loud BANG. I remember laying on the ground and looking up and seeing Charlie staring down at me, with dark never ending burning anger in his eyes. It was then that I knew nothing would ever change. Life here would be just as hellish as it was before. If not, it would only be worse. And it was. I was beaten hard that very night. The next day I was beaten again and raped. Hard. The day after that was when I got the news.
Flight 102 Crash-No Survivors Found
Flight 102 had took off from Phoenix, Arizona on September 22, 2002 and had been flying off to Jacksonville, Florida and were just over the border of Louisiana and Mississippi when the plane crashed. No survivors have been found so far. From what we suspect, one of the engines had exploded from a cause unknown to us. Investigators are still looking into it. Meanwhile a memorial for all 550 passengers is being held at the Phoenix, Arizona grave sight where many relatives of the passengers are mourning for their loss.
My parents had been of Flight 102. Renee was dead. Phil was dead. Any last hope of getting out of this horrid place was dead. I was dead. Only a week after my sixteenth birthday and I had lost all hope in the world and everyone I knew was dead. Well, not everyone. The one remaining person in my family was the one I wanted dead, the only person I ever felt any hatred to. And here I was sleeping under his roof. I knew then that I would never get out. The day I turned eighteen and got my high school diploma I would run for it-if I even made it to the age eighteen.
A whole year past. And during that year I had been beaten and tortured over and over again. My hope was gone. My will to live was gone. I had no meaning in life whatsoever. It would probably just be a big help to everyone if I just took the razor and-
-My train of thoughts was interrupted by the branch of the tree ,which was grown right by my window, (which also made a cover so nobody could see what was going on in my room) had hit my window with a big THUD.
"Ugh," I groaned sitting up in bed. I must have been in such deep thoughts 'cause I forgot what time it was. Do I dare look at the clock?
I turned my head to my alarm clock nervously, scared to see what time it was. The alarm clock blinked mockingly at me : 8:52 am. OH SHIT! Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! I was so late for school! I grabbed my bag and jacket and ran down the stairs, and out the front door.
PLEASE, please, please, please, PLEASE don't let the school call Charlie…
Any good? Review if you want Chp. 2.
~Dani & Melissa :)