A/N: Hey guys, so this isn't my first fanfiction, but it is my first Twilight fanfiction. Honestly, my other fanfictions really needed editing, but I wasn't up to the task so I worked on this little idea that has been floating around in my head instead. I hope you enjoy and please keep in mind this is the prologue, so it is supposed to be really short. I plan to upload chapter 1 tomorrow. Please follow, favorite, and review! constructive criticism is always welcome.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my OCs.

Remember when you were a kid and the only thing that mattered was if you were going to get that new toy from Target or if you were going to get that state-of-the-arts bike for Christmas? Well, that was never me.

At school kids were always talking about some brand new game or hight tech computer, but I couldn't afford to think about things like that. I had to think about if I was going to have food that night for dinner or if I needed to smuggle something from the school cafeteria. It wasn't that my family didn't have food or couldn't afford it so much as it was my parents belief that if I ate every day I wouldn't be cute enough for them to show off at parties anymore. If I ate every day then I wouldn't be worth keeping around anymore. So no, I didn't care about the new transformers video game that just came out.

"Elizabeth! Get down here NOW!" I could hear my mother screaming from the kitchen.

"Yes ma'am," I replied bolting down the stairs and through the dining room.

"And no running in this house! Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," an eight-year-old me echoed.

"What is this I hear from you teacher about you getting into fights at school and calling the other kids names?"

"I didn't do anything! They're lying!" I pleaded not guilty knowing there was about a one in a hundred chance that she would believe me.

"They're lying?!" she screamed in my ear "You're the one lying coming home covered in bruises with your dress torn up! Do you know who much money those dresses cost your father and I? Maybe we're spoiling you and you're just being an ungrateful little brat! Maybe we should stop paying for the food that's making you so fat and the dresses that you obviously don't appreciate!"

"No please, I'll be good! I won't say a word or complain at parties and I won't eat any lunches so that I'm not fat!" I said knowing I could still get a Miniature school lunch and they won't notice the small amounts of money disappearing from their seemingly endless bank accounts.

"No, it's too late now! No dinner for the rest of the month and no new dress or anything else if you are just going to be so ungrateful!"

"But mom, the bruises and cuts are from da-"

"DON'T YOU DARE CONTINUE TO LIE IN THIS HOUSE! GO TO YOUR ROOM NOW AND DON'T BOTHER COMING BACK DOWN AT ALL TODAY!" My mom said slapping me across the face.

"Y-yes ma'am," my voice wavered as I made a conscious effort not to run up the stairs.

"And I said no running!"

At this point, it just wasn't worth it to reply.

My room was my one place of partial solitude. The one place where I could break down and no one would see me or care. The one place where I could be completely and totally alone if only for a few minutes. But now my room was the one place I didn't want to be. The walls felt like they were closing in on me and the air felt stuffy and toxic. I couldn't breathe.

I slid out of the tight dress and put on a simple gray and pink gown. The silky fabric brushed against my knees making me shiver and decide to put on a pair of thin, white leggings.

But none of that helped the room was still was still toxic and it was getting harder to breathe by the second.

I was about to open a window for some fresh, cool air when I heard heavy footsteps falling on the carpeted stairs.

"What did you do to your mother! She's so upset! Says you were fighting at school and when she calmly confronted you about it, you hit her and ran up here! She had no choice but to ground you and take away your dinner!" He said raising a fist that was shaking with anger as he stepped into the room.

"You deserve way worse than that! And that's exactly what I going to give you!" He shouted. He raised his hand and hit me across the face as I shut my eyes.

"I'm so sorry," I pleaded as a last resort.

"YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THAT BEFORE YOU HURT YOUR MOTHER!" he hit me repeatedly and soon the pain was too much for me to pinpoint where it was coming from.

My dad left my room about ten minutes later leaving me on the floor in unimaginable amounts of pain.

Somewhere around midnight, I found the strength to get up and wander painfully over to the door. It was still unlocked so pushed it open and stumbled ungracefully down the stairs and out the front door. The air was becoming more toxic by the minute.

I thought that once I was outside I would be able to breathe, but I was so wrong. The air outside was even worse.

I stumbled around the grassy field outside of our house before I couldn't stand it anymore. I laid down and let darkness claim me.

Apparently my dad had hit me harder than he thought because some people found me out in the field and called nine-one-one. I had internal bleeding and was comatose a week. When I woke up I came face to face with the people who had found me. Carlisle and Esme. Of course, when social services found out what my parents had put me through I was removed from their care and soon after I was sent to live with the Cullens. A Year later they adopted me and I've been living a crazy life with my wonderful, strange family ever since.