Disclaimer: We don't own Twilight, New Moon, or Eclipse. We're just playing with the characters.
Just to let you all know, this is a collaborative effort. My friend, TrapedInsideADream, is writing everything from Bella's point of view. Everything from Edward's is mine. This story takes place many years in the future.
I looked out the window, watching the rain come down with a fury I'd never seen before. My tears fell mercilessly down my cheeks, leaving small dots of color on my starched white apron. I sighed deeply and turned in the small room I was in. Three others girls shared the room with me; my silent sobbing did not even make them stir.
My friend, Jenna, a freckled red head, was close to me, closer than either of the other girls who occupied the room. Jenna worked with me in the kitchens; I cooked, she kept everything clean and ready for me to use. The only reason they kept us together was because we were such a good team; that came from years of practice. Little joy came our way in our bright confinement.
Our supervisor's name was Ethan. He was the reason for ever single ounce of pain that I had ever felt there. Ethan rules over us with an iron fist, leaving no room for arguing or disobedience. Sometimes this can be painful, especially when he's in a foul mood.
Daisy, the perky little blonde, and Tabitha, the hopeful black haired girl, were the other two girls that lived in out tightly packed confinement. They work together in the cleaning department, folding many different girls' and women's clothing. Most of us, or at least the four of us, have never met any of the people we slave away for, even though we often wonder who they might be.
Most people that work here think that this place is a giant castle filled with greedy rich people. I don't think it is, not really, but I'm not sure what else it could be. I have a feeling deep down in my gut that it's something that we would never have thought of. I have always wondered why I have to cook fifty of the exact same meals in one day (though they differ from breakfast to lunch to dinner...). The clothes we get are another puzzling conundrum. They are tattered pieces of cloth that aren't fit for humans, though I'm not surprised that they gave them to us. They enslave us here. Why should they give us anything worth money?
From the small amount of gossip we receive, I've heard that some girls work in actual shops and real restaurants. They live in the same dorms we do, but they work at a higher level. The rumors lead me to believe that there might be a mall or something somewhere in the building. That would also explain the more extensive meals I cook on certain days.
The tears streaming down my face this time came directly from Ethan. I hadn't done anything, and yet he has beaten me so hard that I started bleeding, and now it hurts to move. Tomorrow I will have to work twice as hard to avoid another beating.
I crawled quietly into my bed, wiping my tears off of my drenched face. I am Bella, I am somewhere between 15 and 18, and I am a cook in a place I don't know about. I only know that if I don't follow the rules I get hurt. I closed my eyes to slip into my only escape, sleep.