Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, or any of it's characters. I do, however, own Annabelle, her dad, Marla, Matt, Danny, and many future OCs :)

Warning: This story has self-harm, and suicidal thoughts. Just in case you're affected or set off by it.

I've never liked myself. I'm tired of people saying I should. I'm always told: "You're so beautiful", "I'm so jealous of you!". Now, more and more often, I'm told: "You need to stop this", "Look what you're doing!".

People say I'm different. Saying how I'm not me anymore. Saying how I'm disappearing. I wish I'd disappear for good. Yeah, I think just disappearing would be good. Acceptable. But there are these two people. Two people, who I couldn't ever leave. It would be too selfish. Two people who I know -and this one thing I am absolutely sure of- would be devastated if I disappeared. My best friends, in the world. Marla and Matt. They're my rocks. My sole purpose of still existing. Of still being known as Annabelle.

"ANNNABELLLE!" Marla screamed, stretching my name out.

"WHAT!"I screamed back, looking into the dark abyss that was my stairway to the main level. "WHY IS IT DARK, MARLA! WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I DIDN'T DOIT, I SWEAR!"

I sighed, and let out a quiet giggle. I slugged out of my room and to the top of the staircase, and tried to flick the light switch. To no avail.

"Marla, you need to go to the basement, to the panel, and switch the power back on", I spoke, tired of yelling. I was getting so tired lately.

"But..."She started. I grinned, rolling my eyes. I knew what was coming. "It's...It's... Too dark! CALL MATT!" She screamed 'call Matt' as if it was a' Eureka' moment.

"I'm not calling Matt to turn the power back on. It's one switch, for one level. Just do it Marla! MAN UP!" I giggled, and grabbed a flashlight. I slowly made my way down the stairs, making no noise at all. The closer I got, the more clearly I could hear her whimpering.

So I jumped on her.

Her scream was the loudest I've ever heard. And of course, her reaction was to lash out. Too busy laughing, I didn't see it coming, and got her fist, straight to my eye.

"MARLA! YOUFISH! IT WAS ME! OW!" I screamed at her. Still, I was laughing. Marla gasped, and turned on the flashlight I had in my hand before she punched me.

"ANNABELLE! I'm so sorry! Oh my gosh!" Her hand flew to her mouth. I could see she was trying to be sincere. She was genuinely sorry for punching me in the face. But at the same time, she was holding in her laughter. Just as I was.

And we both burst out in a fit of giggles.


"Mar-Marla, it's midnight" I took a deep breath, after a long laugh.

"Seriously?" She looked outside. "Oh my God, it's just as dark out there as it is inhere!"

I rolled my eyes, and smiled. But on the inside, I didn't want her to go. My dad would be home soon, though, God knows when. His shift at work ends at 10, and I have no idea where he goes afterwards. Most likely to the bar. But that's why Marla has togo. If he saw her here... I don't even want to think about what he'd do to me.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I put a fake smile, and plastered it on my face.

"Marla, my dad is gonna be home soon, and you know how he feels about company..." I trailed off. She didn't know. At least to an extent. I think she had an idea about my father's abuse, but I'm positive she doesn't know everything. I saw her divert her eyes from me, and nodded.

"Are you gonna call someone to pick you up? Or are you gonna walk?" I asked her, worriedly.

"I'll call my brother, if that'll make you happier, you worry wart", she giggled, trying to lighten the mood again. It worked.

"Hey, I wasn't worried. It's not like anyone would wanna kidnap you. They'd get sick of you after 5 minutes and send you back"

"Oh har har, you're a funny one, " she scoffed, and rolled her eyes.

"I've been told. Now, um, come turn the power back on with me? Not that... I'm scared or anything..." I looked away, smiling.

She laughed, but made the terribly dark, dangerous journey with me, down to my basement.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, Annabelle! LAAAVE YOU!" She made kissy faces and waved at me from the passenger seat of her 19 year old brother's car. Her brother-Danny- rolled his eyes, but I saw him chuckle and give me a small wave. I waved back to both of them and shut my front door.

Then I turned to face a war zone. Having Marla over, even for a few hours, can be torturous after she leaves. Everything was everywhere. And there's nothing my father hates more -besides me-, than coming home to a pig sty. And he makes sure tolet me know. Like a reverse tornado, I ran around as quickly as I could, putting everything in order. Picking up Marla's left over food and plates and cups, the couch cushions, everything. Last, I went to the kitchen, washed the dishes, and set an ice cold beer on the clean counter top. I set a bottle opener on top of the bottle, and walked away. I ran up the stairs and into my room.

Then I waited for the nightmare. The nightmare that always starts as soon as I hear the door handle jiggle.


The nerve wreaking wait was short, as I heard his keys in the lock. That's when my mind started racing. What did I forget? I must have forgot something, I always forget something. He always finds something. Something is always done wrong. I always mess up. I heard the door slam shut behind him as his boots clunked against the floor. He was inspecting the house. Making sure I didn't mess up.

"ANNABELLE!GET DOWN HERE. RIGHT. NOW." He bellowed.

My stomach dropped. I knew what was coming. And from his slurred words, I knew it would be far worse than the usual. He was drunk. That meant I wasn't just going to getaway with verbal abuse. No, it was going to be worse. From the top of the stairs, I took a deep breath, and readied myself.

"Coming, Daddy" I cringed at my own words. I hated calling him 'Daddy'. But I must, or I might not be able to wake up tomorrow. He wasn't a 'Daddy'. He wasn't a real 'Dad'. He was a monster sent straight from Hell.

I made my way to the bottom of the stairs, where he was waiting for me. He looked my straight into my eyes, brought his hand up, and slapped me hard, across the face. I didn't move. I wanted to cry, but I didn't dare. I didn't speak. I couldn't.

"WHAT ISTHIS?" He yelled, spitting in my face. I held my breath, as all I could smell was his nasty breath, reeking of alcohol. Following his finger, I saw him pointing behind him. He was pointing to the muddy boot prints leading to where he was standing.

"They're mud prints, from your boots, Daddy", I breathed. I was close to crying. My words came out in short, choppy sentences. Unable to take control. He was too drunk to understand that he made the mess. Anything I say will earn me some kind of hit. And that's exactly what he did. He brought his fist back, and I closed my eyes. He punched me, square in the mouth. Quickly, I ran my tongue across my teeth, eyes still closed. No teeth knocked out, thank God.

"You will never, ever blame anything on ME. You UNDERSTAND?" He spoke to me in such an evil, sinister voice.

"Yes, Daddy, of course" I nodded, and waited for him to allow me to pass. I walked to the kitchen, grabbed the cleaning supplies, and walked back to the front door. I whipped away all evidence of the mud, until where he took his boots off. To be sure, I whipped the bottom of his shoes as well. I was about to get up, when he grabbed my hair, and yanked me up from the floor. Pressing my lips together, I fought the urge to cry. What did I do now?

"You fat, ugly pig. Did you EAT TODAY?" He screamed in my face, "LOOK AT YOU STUFF YOUR FAT PIG MOUTH, YOU HORRID COW!"

I opened my eyes, and stared into his evil ones "No, Daddy, I did not eat today, Ipr-promise", I told him the truth. Stuttering now. Quickly loosing control of my emotions. My stomach hurt, and my head twirled, as the truth dawned on me. Even though I haven't eaten, three days straight, I WAS still fat. I weighed this morning. 100lbs. That's too much. That's way too much. "Haven't eaten since Thursday, Daddy" I added.

He threw me back on the ground, grunted, and walked back to the kitchen. I followed him, to put the cleaners away, and speed walked back to my room. I looked at my clock, that read 1:00AM. I shut my door behind me, and locked it. Then, I slowly faced myfull length mirror.

I cried. I looked at myself, and I thought about what my father did, and I cried. I touched my stomach. I was fat. I could feel my ribs, but I could still see fat. I could see nothing moved when I shook my arms, or legs. But I was fat. I know. I looked at the rest of me. I had bright blue eyes, and waist length ringlet blonde hair. And I was very pale. Something that stood out in LaPush, where Lived. Everyone was russet, very tan colour. I was as white as a snow flake. I've grown accustomed to it, as I've been here since I was five. Ten years later, here I am. Same place, same situation. I didn't want to leave. I liked it here. Outside of this house, everything's okay. Well, I guess it would be, if I didn't bring everything from this house along with me, everything I believed stayed in my head. Something I constantly thought about. I believe everything my father says to me. I am ugly. I am fat. I am worthless, stupid, and a waste of time. I should just give in one night. Just let him finish me. Or, let me finish me. Would that make it better? Would that solve all my problems? Would it make my dad happier, or worse? He would have to do things for himself. Marla and Matt wouldn't be too happy, but they'd get over it. I think I'd be happy. Just to get it over with.

This isn't something I liked thinking about. A fifteen year old girl should not have to stand in front of a 6 foot mirror, contemplating the pro's and con's of giving up everything. Have to see all the faults, the bad parts of herself. No one should feel this way. But me. I should. Because I deserved it.

1:30AM.

I walked over to my bed, still crying. I pulled out a razor from under my mattress, and did the only thing that would calm me. The only thing that I felt I did right.

I slowly added a new cut to my wrist.

Then I added one to the top of my thigh.

It wasn't enough.

I did it two more times, each on my thigh and wrist.

And smiled.

Relief.

So, there it is. This is just the first chapter, and I'm aware that it's short. This story has been stuck in my head for awhile, and I wanted to get it out, and see where it would go. PLEASE REVIEW. It'll get me motivated to write more. And if you have any idea's for the future of this story, or how to improve it, that would be greatly appreciated!