A/N

Just to give you a heads-up; this chapter is heavy on the gloom. It's not happy and it ain't pretty. If you are in anyway offended or affected by mentions of domestic violence I suggest you click the big, red 'X' in the right-hand corner of your screen. I promise this is as dark as it gets! I also promise it's not as dark as I'm probably making it out to be. You can be the judge of that though.

FYI It pains me to post this without a beta's eyes having passed over it. Who knows what kind of horrific grammatical mistakes I've probably made. I desperatley need a lovely beta to come save me & my story. If you read this & fancy giving me a helping hand please message me. It would be greatly appreciated.

This is a ridicuously long first chapter and for that I apologise. Any kind of feedback is welcome as this is only my second attempt at getting one of my stories out there. Enough rambling from me.

Disclaimer : Stephenie Meyer owns these characters. If I did I wouldn't be living in a one bedroom flat in Soho.

Chapter One : Not Tonight

I'm an incredible liar. That's not something most people boast about. I need to be good at it otherwise my life of carefully crafted lies would crumble and everyone would see me for who I really am; a scared, sad and alone little girl. This is not how I intended to spend my days. I had so much ambition once. I had dreams of family and happiness and growing old with someone I love. But here I am, stuck on repeat in the same old town with the same old people. Everyone else moved on, followed their dreams. Not me.

On this particular night I sit here in my beautiful kitchen in my beautiful house, waiting for my husband to come home. If this were any other night there would be the delicious aroma of a home cooked lasagne or pie wafting through the vents of the oven and a glass of red wine waiting on the dining table. Not tonight.

I had only just returned home from an impromptu getaway. I had been staying with Alice and her fiancée Jasper in the city. My excuse for turning up on their doorstep unannounced one evening was that Daniel was away on business for the first time and I was scared in the huge house by myself. Alice, being the kind and perfect friend that she is, asked no questions and promptly made the bed in her spare room and grabbed a bottle of wine. She didn't need to hear that my husband had flown into one of his violent rages and thrown me out of the house for no apparent reason.

Alice was one of those rare people that you see in movies and on the TV. She's the girl that everyone wants as their best friend. Honest, lively and truly beautiful inside and out. The kind of girl dreamed up by authors to be the perfect companion for their spirited heroine. She would do anything for me. I was a pretty crappy friend. I tried my hardest to be better but it was difficult. I found it incredibly painful to lie to such a good person which, sadly, I had to do every single time I spoke to her. I used to be like Alice but now the only commonality we share is beauty. It's all I was allowed to have.

My fingers tap absentmindedly on the surface of the dining table. I jump out of my skin as I hear his key twist in the lock. It's been four days since I've felt this overwhelming terror. It was nice to catch a break from it. Daniel didn't know where Alice lived and he didn't bother to try and find out. He knew I would return; I have no choice.

The front door creaked open and his heavy footsteps carry him into the hallway. I hear the jingle of his keys as they settle on their hook, the rustle of his coat at he lays it over the banister. He must know I'm here; I left the light on upstairs to warn him of my presence. This is not a man you want to surprise.

My heart works overtime as his footsteps near. I'm sure all colour is drained from my already porcelain skin and beads of sweat gather at my hairline. My hands are clammy and still tapping a furious rhythm on the table top. I brace myself for impact as I feel his eyes upon my back.

"Ah, so Isabella finally returns." He says softly. "Where have you been beautiful?"

I cringe away from his icy fingers as they brush along the damp skin on the back of my exposed neck.

"I was w-with Alice." I whisper, fumbling slightly.

He's in front of me now, crouching down to my level. His black eyes burning into mine with accusation.

"And you really expect me to believe that Isabella? Huh, you're stupider than I thought." He shakes his head in disapproval; his hand grasping the base of my thigh. Tight, too tight.

I know better than to answer him back but tonight, I can't seem to care. The feisty Bella inside me is just begging for a fight; coward Bella can take a backseat. Enough is enough.

"You know I'm telling the truth. Don't accuse me of that shit just because you spread yourself around." I sneered.

His face turned crimson, his jaw clenching. Eyes tightly shut. Mouth pursed into a tight line. Grip tighter. Breaths are heavier. Here it comes.

His eyes flew open to stare me down once again. I stood my ground, staring into those murky depths. I'm sure his eyes used to be blue, I can't seem to remember. They've seemed so lifeless for a while now. I was sure he would see the same emptiness in mine.

Why did we do this? How did we get here?

"I 'spread myself around' because you are a worthless piece of shit." He shook his head in disgust. His grip still tightening on my thigh.

"Now get the fuck out of my sight." He seethed through clenched teeth.

Deep breaths Bella. "No. I'm not going anywhere."

His eyes lit up, loving gaining a reaction for the first time in a while. Usually I just comply and get my sorry ass out of the room. Not tonight.

"Isabella," He sighed, "if you don't get out of this room I'm going to put you out of this room." He was calmer now. It was an empty threat. One he hadn't had to follow through on in a few months at least.

"Go nuts honey because I'm not going anywhere." I sat back and folded my arms across my chest, a forced smirk plastered on my face.

Bring it on asshole.

"So who was it tonight then Daniel? Hmm, let me think..." I tapped a finger on my chin mockingly. "Was it Tara? I bet it was Tara. You're always so sombre when you've been fucking Tara." I smiled, waiting for a reaction.

"Get the fuck out of this room Isabella I'm warning you."

"Why? Are you going to hit me? Or just tell me how worthless I am some more? Because I've got all night."

I leant forward; our faces mere inches apart. It was taking every bit of strength not to book it out of that room or throw up the contents of my stomach all over his lap. I was dangling a succulent piece of steak in the eyes of a ravenous lion. I knew what was coming but didn't have the energy to care anymore. Maybe I wanted this.

He let out a small, breathy laugh and stood up, his grip on my thigh finally gone. Seconds later I was being yanked out of the chair and onto my feet. I forgot how strong he was.

He dragged me up the staircase, my clumsy feet getting the better of me as I stumbled behind him. He was too fast for me. It wasn't like I could get out of this predicament, I was just going to have to try and keep up with him.

We arrived at our bedroom door and he proceeded to throw me into the dark room. I fell forward onto my hands and knees with a loud smack; my palms stinging from the harsh contact they made with the wooden floorboards.

"There's a good girl, on your knees." He sputtered, laughing noisily and pointing at me like I was an entertaining animal at the zoo.

I snapped, something finally clicking in my head. I had taunted and prattled but then given up and let him continue his abuse. Not tonight.

There's only so far you can push a person until they break.

I broke.

I launched myself off my knees and straight towards him. I shoved him violently against the wall, throwing all my weight into it. A look of shock passed over his features while he registered what had just happened.

Yes asshole, I'm fighting back.

My tiny fists were trying their very best, and failing, to do some damage. He abruptly became a man without reason. He grabbed my wrists and threw me sideways so I crashed onto our bed. He straddled my waist, his arms holding me down with force.

"What the fuck do you think you're playing at Isabella? You don't get to play tough guy with me. I'm the one in charge here! Do you hear me?!" He spat; his face so close I could feel his wet breath on my lips.

I tried to answer but couldn't. He was choking me. His immense hands grasping my slender neck with such a force it turned his already crimson face a new, darker shade. My legs kicked to no avail with the full weight of his body pinning me down. He had officially lost any ounce of sanity that still lingered in his fucked-up head.

This was a new kind of agony; one that surpassed all of the pushes and pulls. One that kicked the ass of all the punches and slaps. I couldn't breathe.

My hands feebly attempted to pry his grip away from my neck. I was going to die here, on my queen-sized bed in my beautiful house at the hands of my hideous husband. All I could think in this moment was that there was no way the bastard would be able to get away with this one. All the hospital trips for bloody foreheads and broken ribs were always covered up with a "Gosh, Bella is so clumsy!". Dr Cullen always looked at me with such pity, like he knew.

Oh such a tangled web you have weaved Bella.

Not tonight. Tonight I was going to die; not being able to have blossomed into the woman I always longed to be. And then something caught my eye as I frantically searched for a way out. As my gasping grew heavier, my lungs trying their very hardest to drag the stolen air back inside, I saw the picture on my bedside table. It was Alice, Charlie and me. Alice and I were just 18 and glowing with ambition; both grinning from ear to ear. We each had our arms wrapped around Charlie's neck in a beautiful, natural embrace. He was trying his best not to smile but it was like he couldn't resist; one side of his mouth pulling up into one of his classic smirks. He was so sick that day too. I remembered it so painfully, so vividly.

Those final days with my dad. The ones where he told me to be extraordinary. He told me that nothing was impossible, that I deserved the world. That I wouldn't be sad forever after he left me. That time passes. That he would be with me, always.

And here I lay dying at the hands of the man who made me believe I was ordinary; the man who made sure I was always sad. If Charlie was really with me right now he would be ashamed.

With the tiny bit of energy I had left I reached behind me, underneath my pillow and fingered the cold metal of my father's pistol. It's really hard trying to do anything when the life is being coaxed from you but I pushed, for Charlie. I pulled the gun down to my side. Charlie always said it would come in handy one day. Daniel was too far gone to notice anything apart from making damn sure I was still dying. The muscles in his arms looked fit to burst but his face was the picture of concentration and calm.

Pure evil.

I brought the pistol to my stomach and pointed it upwards. At least I hoped. I couldn't really see anymore. My vision was fading to black, my body slowly giving into the comforting darkness. My pulse was stuttering, slowing; my poor, broken heart doing all it could to keep me from subsiding under the hands of this killer. I needed to act fast before I vanished.

How long could a person go without air?

My finger lazily hooked inside the trigger and pulled.

And then everything was incredibly quiet.

I hope that all made sense/didn't piss everyone off.

It's all uphill from here kids. I promise.

If you're still with me after this expect an update before the weekend is over.

Much love x x x Kris