I do not own The Twilight Saga, Stephenie Meyers does. I do own this story line though =)

A/N This will be more than a few chapters. There is a plot to this story. For anyone wondering there WILLbe eventual canon pairings, please be patient. Again there is a plot. I hope those who have alerted me enjoy this and stick around. For those of you that are new to my stories please make sure to read my first FanFic "Forsaken" as well.

I am BETA-less and PROOFreader-less so please forgive me for my errors.

WARNING:This is ALL human, ALTERNATE universe, OUT OF CHARACTER, and contains ABUSE. It is rated MA for future LEMONS, curses and all things mature =)

Phew...okay here goes...

Sleep. It never came easy, and it never would. It was never rest-full, never sound. And, tonight; would be no different. Even with the medicinal assistance slowly edging its way through my weakened structure; my nerves were still twisted into convoluted heaps. My own brain unable to unravel the cluster within it.

I could feel the all too familiar uneasiness creeping its way through me. My stomach tightly woven into thick braids. The unraveling of tension working its way slowly from the depths of my stomach-branching outward into every cell of my being, igniting the sparks that would simmer for all eternity. I lay motionless, staring at the chipped, off-white paint of my ceiling. The bruises on my ribs and lower back painful. I grit my teeth as I try to shift to a comfortable position-but the ache just intensifies. The deep throbbing pulsing like a stabbing migraine.

Sleep is not too far away. And, any amount of relief I may had felt earlier has slowly shattered like tempered glass-as I relive the day's events. My fathers scowling face, gun drawn-index finger ghosting the trigger. His deep, authoritative tone; harsh, and threatening. The scene reiterated endlessly through my cognizance. Like an old muted black and white film. Though, the fact still remained; my father finally knew, and he would protect me-and that was all that mattered now, right?

I know I should feel calm. I should feel as though the weight of the world has finally been lifted; my once heavy bosom finally freed of the vice that's held it mercilessly within its grip for the past three years. I should…but I don't. I am more afraid now than I have ever been; and not just for myself but for my father as well.

I did not want to take the sleeping pill. But, Dad insisted, 'It will calm your nerves, Bells… If I only knew…I could have…' He had balked; anger and disgust creasing his thick brown-brows together. His burnished eyes held tightly to unshed tears. But, how? How could he have known anything? I was taught so well to stay quiet…and even better at concealing.

Hesitantly, my eyes began their slothful revolution towards the back of my head. Immediately, I began blinking incessantly. Trying in vain to keep them open-stay awake. Though my body fought hard and was losing the battle at a rapid speed. The only other fear I had, other than him, was sleep. For; even in my own home, my own room, under lock and key-I was not safe. I never was and I never would be.

I glanced towards the window. Closed. I jumped off the squeaky mattress and walked stealthily over to it; gripping the base of the frame, trying to nudge it upwards. Tightly secured-just like we left it. I and my fathers earlier project a success.

Sighing heavily, I returned to my bed. Slowly easing myself onto my side where the deep-blue and purple blotches were less sensitive. I closed my heavy lids. The burning in my eyes becoming a dull boil as I gave into the exhaustion that had been wreaking havoc inside me. Within minutes, if not mere seconds, slumber consumed me-and I couldn't fight it any longer. Its warmth enveloped my entire body like a thick blanket on a winter's day. My body instinctively soaked it up; like an empty sponge-welcoming the intrusion. It didn't take long before I was standing in an all too familiar garden, with an all too familiar figure.

I opened my eyes slowly. Taking in the familiar surroundings. Deeply breathing the sweet air that percolated around me. Lilac's, Orchard's, Rose's, Freesia's, Lily's; every flower imaginable-lay before me. Their copious crowns meshed together in thick abundant rows; leading to an invisible horizon. The pungent aroma of each delicate floret melted together-like funeral flowers. Their mingled scents tickling my nose and throat like soft feathers.

The expected, unnamed female stood across from me in her usual place; next to the tall Weeping Willow-the only tree in my garden of flowers. Its slender branches and elongated fronds fell around her like a veil. Slightly shrouding her naked body. As always; her long, flowing, tawny-hair covered the remainder of her bare form; its waves cascading and carpeting the peaks of her breasts. Her eyes still as blue as the clearest skies. Breathtaking was the only word that I could conjure up to describe her beauty.

She stood motionless. Her normal stance; never speaking, just observing…me. Her gaze always apologetic, always sad. Benevolence strongly dispersed across it-pitying me, the usual. Slowly she opened her mouth, a first for her. Curious, I watched as a horrid black hole quickly consumed the once alluring features of her face. Fear gripped my insides and a wave of nausea rolled through me. She emitted no sound. Just an eerie, deafening silence that matched the ghastly look on her face. Her once blue eyes appeared beady but remained fixated on me as she slowly raised her left arm. The hand outstretched; pointing its bony index finger towards something behind where I stood.

The look of grief was intensifying in her cloudless eyes as the terror intensified in mine. Her body language was screaming at me, but what it was trying to say I did not know. I tried to take a deep breath and began slowly turning my head to look at what she was pointing towards so incessantly. But, was unable to move, or breathe. I tried again. My head meeting with a resistance thicker than cement. I tried to inhale; but something was blocking my airway, something thick and porous-like cotton.

I put both my hands up to my neck in an effort to show the beautiful woman before me the universal hand signal for choking-but she remained oblivious to my unspoken cries for help. Still, she continued to stand, motionless, mouth opened in fright and finger pointing steadily. I tried one last time to inhale. What little air I could; sent a horrific burning sensation throughout the minute tissues of my lungs. The pain unbearable, unlike anything I had ever experienced. And, I have experienced a lot. It was as though a million tiny shards of glass were strategically embedded into the moist flesh of my lungs. Each respiration driving the minute shards further into the wounded tissue. Tearing what little internal flesh I had left to pieces.

Tears were now heavily streaming down my face as I looked pleadingly at the once serene woman before me. Her mouth snapped shut-quickly-like an animal snare that had just caught its prey. I closed my eyes to clear away the well of tears that had formed. Reluctantly, I re-opened them to find her standing mere inches from my face. Her features now a pale-gray; her blue eyes glazed over with a white-iridescent film. Her finger still pointing at something behind me-shaking, the striated-nail yellow, and cracked. Still unable to breathe, I quaked with terror. The once beautiful woman that always stood motionless and speechless; that represented life, purity, and innocence-was nothing like she had been. Because, standing before me now; a rancid smell permeating from her was death. And, death spoke. And, it was one word, and one word only…

"Run."

Abruptly, I awoke. Jumping from my bed; gasping for air like a fish out of water, my own hands still wrapped around my neck-gripping tightly. I tried to focus on my surroundings, unwinding my fingers from my neck as I was engulfed by a thick haze. The smog thickening every air particle around me rapidly. Still unable to breathe deeply; I began taking short-shallow breaths. The smell of kerosene and burning wood trickled into my flared nostrils. I could taste the salty dampness of burning drift-wood and timber on my tongue. A taste all too familiar and reminiscent of bon-fires I was forced to attend-down at First Beach in La Push. Immediately, I ran to the door through the thick fog. Gripping the handle tightly; only to pull back harshly from the intense heat emanating from the brass oval. The smell of my singed flesh adding to the toxic aroma's surrounding me.

"DAD!!! DAD!!!" I screamed frantically with what little bit of air my body held on to. Only to be met with utter silence. I dropped myself to the floor, trying in earnest to find clean air. Through burning eyes I could just make out the smoke slowly billowing underneath the dense, plywood frame of the door. A ravenous-orange glow; illuminated the perimeter of the door through the thick gray. I could hear the crackling of the wooden floor board's just outside my door. It was as though the blaze was strategically burning in the hallway that led only to mine and my fathers rooms. I could hear the structure of the house becoming completely unsound; as the crackling turned into loud creaking and snapping. I placed the palm of my now burnt hand to the door, the heat was too intense. There was no way I could escape. No way I could get to my father. With a final whimper, I tried in vain to call for my father again…but could not produce enough pressure for my vocal cords to contract.

Defeated, I tried to think rationally. Maybe he had escaped I thought; as quickly, on hands and bare knees, I scurried over to the only window in my smoked filled room. All the while gasping for air, helplessly. I went to throw the window open but was met again with a familiar resistance. I tried repeatedly, sobbing heavily, my chest heaving from the pain in my lungs. My body still aching from the bruises.

I had almost given up when I remembered, The nails! The image of me and my father; laughing and having an awkward bonding moment, as we nailed the window shut-flashed through my mind. Initially, the steel spikes were to protect me, protect my father-from him. Never, did I imagine that our actions would lead to our untimely deaths.

Swiftly, I grabbed the wooden chair that sat in front of my small desk. With all the energy I could muster-which wasn't much-I lifted the awkwardly shaped object and threw it at the window, breaking the glass with its hard pointed legs.

Without any hesitation I climbed out; my knees and shins digging into the remaining shards of glass stuck in the white-wooden frame. I could feel the warm blood oozing from the new wound I had accidentally created. I welcomed it over the pain still constricting my chest. Grabbing for the branches of the maple above me-I pulled myself out. An action I had mastered long ago. My body dangled limply for a few seconds before falling onto the damp grass below me. My knees and shins slamming into the hardened ground, stinging more than before.

Thick, wet strands of grass mixed with dirt stuck to my open wounds, my blood their adhesive. Dizzy, I ran to the front of the house-gulping in the muggy damp air till my lungs felt satiated with oxygen. The pain still piercing. I could see-through my peripheral vision as I ran-that the house was now completely immersed in flames. Bystanders had gathered in the street-watching-mouths agape as my life burnt in front of them. The horror and sadness emanating from them as some stood with their palms covering their open mouths-in shock. I scanned the scene as best I could but could not see my father anywhere. An older woman, a neighbor I am sure I knew but could not recognize, saw me stumbling to the street and quickly ran to my side.

"Oh! Dear, god, Bella. Are you okay!? Is there…Is there anyone else in the house?" she stuttered panic stricken. Her words' spewing from her lips a mile a minute. I fell to the asphalt below me; pulling my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around them-cradling and rocking myself back and forth.

I knew the answer…and her question answered mine. My father did not escape.

Coughing profusely and reluctant I replied. "Yes…my…my father…"

Anxiety flooded my core and the tears poured down my face. I tried to hold back my whimpers; for every breath made the shards inch deeper and deeper into the already injured flesh of my lungs.

Minutes had passed, though felt like hours. The fire department had arrived and was quickly trying to combat the blaze. The older woman who questioned me just a few minutes prior was now handing me a cold bottle of water. I drained the clear-liquid with one swig, like my life depended on it. The coolness dulling the burning and arid sensation in my throat but only momentarily. A young fireman, not much older than I, came over to where I sat and placed a mask over my mouth which forced pure oxygen into my lungs before wrapping a blanket around my sweat glazed body. The thick blanket was hot, the material like a scouring pad against my sticky skin. Instinctively, I grabbed the rough edges pulling the blanket tighter around my shivering frame-subconsciously remembering I was only wearing a t-shirt and my boy cut underwear-desperately trying to cover every curve-not that it mattered now. I sat; still, as I watched in horror as the only home I ever knew became completely consumed in flames. The windows bursting outward, glass spraying down around me like heavy hail; my father imprisoned behind the thick walls of bright-orange, red, and yellow flames. The tips of each licking the starless, deep-indigo blue sky above like a lollipop, their movement's hypnotic…almost peaceful.

Someone began to yell, pulling me from my stupor. Everyone was being forced to move back, far back. A strong hand gripped my upper arm. I didn't even look to see who had grabbed me so suddenly. My eyes were focused on the floating embers before me. Dancing through the smoke filled air like fireflies on a warm summers evening.

My weak body was pushed backward, rather briskly. My head lowered as I was put into the back of a Deputy cruiser. The car, identical to the one my father drove. My insides cringed with the sudden realization. Vaguely, I could hear voices. Two men speaking frantically; both trying desperately to ask me questions while telling me I would be alright. I heard one man say that I was "lucky."

Lucky!? This man couldn't be serious.

As we pulled away; I never turned my head from the carnage that unfolded before me. Intently I watched with eyes squinted, watering copiously and burning from smoke exposure-out the back window of the cruiser, as my home gradually imploded. The strong walls that had once embraced me, sheltered me, now a pile of splintered memories. All that I was, all that I could be-out of reach; as the distance grew between the burning mass and my trembling body. My father, the Chief of police; now a prisoner in his own home.

Okay, so let me know what you think. Thanks too all that have read this far =)

Hope you liked, feel free to leave a review...smiley faces are nice too =)