Chapter 1 – A New Beginning

'Please… just let me go'

'No! You're mine. We're going to be together forever.'

I lay on the couch while he held me down. I tried wriggling around to get his grip to loosen and to my surprise he did; he was drunk beyond belief. I had never seen him like this before. I had woken to him standing over me on the couch, a curious look on his face. It had been his birthday and he had drank a lot and taken some pills one of the neighbors had brought him. I had pushed myself onto a sitting position before he had pressed me down, and choked and shook me. Yelling and screaming at me. After I had gotten him off me I ran to front door trying to get away. He had followed me, pushing me down the stairs. I hit head first on a step and he moved down grapping a hold of my hair; I thought he would rip my hair clean off my head. He hit my head on the steps over and over again, I thought I was going to die, blood running down my face. I cried, screaming for help but no one came. He finally stopped and pulled me inside by my hair. I grabbed the doorframe, refusing to let him drag me inside. After a while I just couldn't hang on anymore and he finally overpowered me. I had never really fought back against his beatings but this time was different. I had told him I was leaving during the party but I had fallen asleep on the couch before I had had a chance to leave. I pushed and fought back as best as I could. I prayed; if there was a God, I begged for him to help me. I never really believed in God, seeing as my past wasn't exactly peachy. I finally couldn't take it anymore and I succumbed to his beatings. I had agreed to marry him the following day, so we could stay together forever. He stopped abruptly, telling me to go upstairs and shower and we could watch a romantic movie together.

As soon as I was out of his range of sight I ran upstairs; locking the bathroom door behind me. I got in the shower and as I stood in under the water I broke down. I cried violently as all I could see was blood running down the drain. After the water had turned a color that wasn't completely red I got out, I knew my injuries were bad so I walked straight into the bedroom without even glancing in the mirror and got some clothes on. When I'd finally come downstairs he told me it was my fault for making him do this to me. He scared me immensely and even though he had beaten me before he had never scared me so bad. I knew I would leave that night. I waited until he had fallen asleep and slowly got up and went to the backdoor. I opened the first two bolts quietly and waited to see if he had woken. I slowly opened the last two bolts and ran outside. I had parked my car some blocks away, I didn't need to pack anything since I had already packed a couple of days ago. I had wanted to leave for a really long time, but there was never really the right time to tell him. He had harassed me the first time I had tried to leave him, calling my workplace every ten minutes and almost getting me fired. I got in the car, my feet bleeding from scrapping against rocks. I hit the gas, driving until I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore.

I stepped out of the shower, steam surrounding me in a thick haze. My dirty blond hair clung to my back, as I stood in front of the mirror, examining my wounds. I had a few bruised ribs, they weren't swollen or anything, so I could probably get away with no one noticing it. My face, on the other hand, was going to be a problem. There wasn't enough make up in the world to cover up those bruises. My lip was busted, my right eye was on different stages of recovery, though the swelling had gone down substantially, I had bruising along my jaw, a cut right below my hair line and a broken wrist. I'd been beaten to a pulp. Justin had a short fuse. I'd always thought that it was my fault for not knowing what and when he wanted something. Luckily I learned better.

So here I was, in a rut of a motel room in rural Alabama, on my way to see Sookie and Jason. It was hard to explain what they were to me. They were the only family I'd ever really had. When I met Justin, I'd been seventeen and extremely naive. In his drunken stupor, my dad had taken to beating me outside a Wal-Mart. Justin had walked by, seeing what was happening. He pulled my dad off me and after making sure he was incapacitated, Justin helped me to a hospital. He stayed with me until I was discharged and we had been up all night talking. He had been the perfect gentleman, my knight in shining armor. For a while I thought that I was finally free of worry and having to constantly be on guard, but sadly it didn't last long.

The violence started after he'd gotten fired from his job, a year into our relationship; he began drinking and was drunk a lot of the time. When I didn't have to deal with my father anymore I had always said that if a man ever hit me, I'd hit right back. The first time he hit me, I slapped him and it turned out to be the worst thing I could have done – he beat me repeatedly until I was unconscious. At the end of the relationship he'd gotten livid if I'd asked him if he wanted lunch without permission to speak. He would beat me for hours, until I lay unconscious on the floor or was begging him to stop. One time he had beaten me with an extension cord and I hadn't been able to walk for two weeks. He'd always say he loved me, calling me everything from his angel to a worthless whore while he administrated his punishments.

I got out the peroxide I had bought at a gas station and started to clean out the worst of the open cuts I had on my arms. It stung but I hardly wanted any scars so I kept at it

I'd met Sookie when I was 13, when I had stayed as a foster child with her aunt and uncle. She was special like me, though she was the only one who knew besides my father. Needless to say we had become best friends instantly, neither of us having any to begin with. I'd stayed in Bon Temps until I was 16. Linda had died from cancer and Mr. Delahoussay had killed himself (I always called him that, apart from sir – he found it amusing that someone 'with my background' still had manners) after Hadley had fled rehab. I had come home from school, finding him hanging from the 2nd- story banister right above the dining room table. I had run outside, screaming, only managing to notice that he had hung himself from the tie Linda had given him for his birthday. A day later two social workers had shown up, telling me that my father had requested I come stay with him. Sookie, of course, had protested, knowing all about my father's dealings with me. I was afraid he'd find me if I went back to Bon Temps, but I just didn't know where else to go. And if I had to I could easily protect myself; although I didn't like to use my powers all that often.

I only hoped that they could forgive me for disappearing for four years, they must have been broken, when they found out that I had left with my father, not wanting to cause any trouble, and that I had basically disappeared from the face of the earth once Justin had his hold on me. I hadn't even been to Adele's funeral even though I'd begged Justin to take me. Tears started to well in my eyes, but I shook myself, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around me, before I walked into the dingy motel room. I couldn't afford to break down now 'cause I wasn't sure if I'd ever survive it.

I got a brush out from my pull-over bag, one of those you could throw over your back and be fine with, and started brushing my damp hair. It had dried a little while I was in the bathroom, making it harder to get the brush through it. I watched as the brush left soft waves in its aftermath, making the hair return to its former glory, stroke after stroke. I had bluish grey eyes, but these days it was hard to tell, since Justin had been fond of using my face as a punching bag. My face was never healed long enough for anyone to be able to distinctly tell.

I sighed, putting the brush back in the bag and putting my hair into a messy bun. I looked through my bag and found an oversized T-shirt and some boy shorts. I dropped the towel that was secured around me and pulled them on before I pulled the sheets over me and laid my head down on the pillow, praying that the sheets were clean and that tomorrow was going to be a new beginning for me, a fresh start, before sleep finally claimed me.