Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, until I steal it from her :P haha, JK. I own nothing.
BPOV
Ugh, this blood will never come out! Dried blood plus a white carpet equals stain, but I can't let it stain. If it stains, it'll just get worse. Ugh, why did this have to happen to me?
Flashback
Mike walked into the bedroom after coming home from work late. He looked pissed. Oh no. "Bella, why was my dinner cold? No, wait. Why wasn't my dinner fresh?"
"I-I'm sorry, you weren't home, I was starving! I went to cook hoping you'd be home by the time it was done-" I couldn't get anymore out.
He yanked me off the bed by my hair. Roughly. I yelped in pain. He kicked my in the chin, causing me to lose my balance and fall on the floor. He once again pulled me by my hair, this time so I was face to face with him and then he punched me in the face. I could taste the blood in my mouth. He hit me in the ribs and then I fell to the ground again. He kept hitting me and I kept bleeding.
Finally, he stopped. "I'm going out, this mess better be cleaned up by the time I get home!"
End Flashback
Let me rewind back a bit. My mom died when I was 14, so when I was in eighth grade I moved to Forks, Washington to live with my dad, Charlie. I met Mike Newton in ninth grade, I instantly had a huge crush on me. Right before the winter break of freshman year, he asked me to be my girlfriend, I instantly accepted it.
Everything was fine for a little over a year. I fell in love, but I fell too deep. About halfway through the my sophomore year, Mike hit me. Only once, so it didn't bother me much. Every now and then he would hit me, but I would see it as nothing. When I turned 17, Charlie said we should move in together because he saw us as the perfect couple, and Mike has proposed a few months before, and me being the idiot I am, said yes.
It got worse after we moved in together. He dropped out of school and went to help Charlie at the Police Department. It's only been 3 months, but he's out of control. Every single mistake I make, he hits me for it. No matter how small, I get beaten.
Finally! The blood came out! I looked up at the clock. Shoot! Only an hour left until I had to go to school. I quickly hopped in the shower, massaged my sore scalp, and washed the dried blood off of my body. I hopped back out after about a half hour. I got dressed in a simple black long sleeve shirt, denim skinny jeans, and black high top converses. I then went back to the bathroom to see the damage that was my face.
I had a black eye, my lip was a little swollen, there was a cut on my forehead, and a nasty bruise on my cheek. I now only had twenty five minutes left until I had to get to school. I applied foundation on my face, put on lip gloss to try to hide the swelling, and wore my bangs in a way that my cut was hidden.
I looked at the clock again. Five minutes. I had just enough time. I went back into my room and opened my closet. I took down a shoebox, opened it and pulled out my razor. I pulled back my sleeve and dug the razor into my skin. The feeling of the razor digging into my skin made me feel whole again. Almost. Even though I hated the smell of blood, I couldn't resist making myself bleed.
I put the razor back and held a cloth to my arm until the bleeding stopped. When it stopped I drove to school. The only way I could get away from him. My escape.
A/N: How was that? I hoped you liked it! But we warned, if you don't like sad stories don't read this one! I won't promise you it will be happy. R&R!!