A/N: Hey guys! My friend Skylar and I are collaborating for this story, seeing as he doesn't have and account on fan fiction so he attacked mine. This story is centered around a plot line not many use. This plot line is one where Edward is the vulnerable one, he's the abused one, and not Bella. He's not the hero, he's the one that needs to be saved. I know it's sounds nothing like me, but I want to stray away from the humorous demeanor I've given myself and give my writing a little more seriousness. With the help of my best buddy Skylar that is.
For a fair warning, this story is rated M for self mutilation, abuse, substance abuse, eating disorders, and strong language.
Also, this is an all human story.
Disclaimer:
Me: I don't own Twilight.
Skylar: I wish I did but I don't so yeah, ditto to what Isa-izzle said.
Me: Yeah.....
Stephenie: New friend?
Me: Old friend, best bud if you ask me.
Skylar: And me too.
Stephenie: Nice.
Scream for the Heartbroken and Cry for the Unloved
By: Isabella Iannotti and Skylar Kennedy
Chapter One
Tears for Fears
Written By: Skylar Kennedy
Beta'd By: Isabella Iannotti
For so many years, I've hidden who I truly am. I've taken up a façade that yells to the world that I am a happy person, when in truth I am not. I've tried so hard to please those around me and try to grasp the concept of true love, something that I have lacked since the day I was born. I really longed to find someone who loved me for me, and saw past the abuse and mutilation. My life has been centered around keeping that façade and telling myself that it only got better from here on out.
It really didn't.
If I took a step out of that little bubble that I'd created for myself, I'd realize that my life outside of that bubble centered around keeping myself alive, I wouldn't know what to do at all and turn to my knives for the comfort I so always sought out. The comfort of control over my overly fucked up world. I knew it wouldn't work if I just tried to face my world head on, I'd be scared of taking that ever needed leap, that leap out of my comfort zone. That leap away from the pain, suffering, and despair.
I couldn't tell anyone. Why? Because I'm a pussy, that's why.
I hugged my knees to my chest and prayed he wouldn't come up the stairs and I prayed I could sleep peacefully for once.
Sadly, my prayer wasn't answered.
I heard his heavy footsteps coming up and I shuddered.
I heard my doorknob jiggle and then turn. The door slammed open and hit the wall. I winced at the sound. Henry, my step-'dad', stumbled drunkenly towards me. I bit back the tears that threatened to spill over.
"What the hell is wrong with you you stupid boy!? You look like you're about to shit your pants!" He slurred.
He picked me up by the waistband of my jeans and threw me down. I hit the ground with a loud thump and shut my eyes tight as he kicked me continuously. Several kicks later, I coughed up a spew of blood. I shivered and shook and he pick me up by my blood stained collar.
"That's what I like to see." He breathed in my face. I could smell the remnants of beer and vodka on his breath. I crinkled my nose and he began to look furious. He punched me in the face and slammed my head into the wall several times.
I was getting dizzy and I was hardly capable of opening my eyes. I just let my eyes close as Henry threw me on my bed and stumbled away, leaving me battered and broken.
That was why I couldn't tell.
That was my plausible reason for keeping shut about it all.
I woke up the next morning to the sound of my alarm clock and sore from the beating I got last night. I threw my medium-length bronze hair out of my face and wiped the cold sweat that formed on my brow. I rubbed my emerald green eyes and inspected a large bruise on my jaw. I tried to open my mouth but it hurt. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my toothbrush and wet it. My arm was sore so I slowly placed the toothpaste on the brush. I slowly shoved it in my mouth and started brushing.
After I finished I took a long, hot shower and washed off all the blood from my body.
I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my lower half and walked to my room. I dried off and got dressed. I wore a long sleeved, black and white stripped shirt with a black shirt on top and black baggy pants. I put on a big black jacket and my converse and headed downstairs to grab my book bag and some breakfast.
When I turned into the kitchen I grabbed a pop tart from the pantry and went to the family room that was located next to the kitchen. I grabbed my back pack off the long couch while my mom was sprawled out on the small couch, obviously drunk, while the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse played on the T.V. I turned it off and wiped some stray bronze hairs from my mother cheek, giving her a kiss. I ran towards the door and went to my school on foot.
Forks High School was a horrible place for someone like me.
Very horrible.
There was this little group that I'd always despised in this school. It consisted of six horrid people who picked on me every single freaking day.
There was Emmett McCarty, the jock, Mary-Alice Brandon, the fashionista, Rosalie Hale, the head cheerleader, Jasper Whitlock, the badass, and Isabella Swan, the smart girl with a beautiful face but a heart of ice. Towards me at least.
I only had one, count 'em, one friend. He was my best friend. His name was Jacob Black. He was here to save my ass from the group of numb nuts.
As I approached the school I heard the taunts. I hadn't even stepped on school grounds. That's a completely new record, I thought sarcastically.
"Get the fuck outta here, fag!" One guy called. I rolled my eyes and kept on walking. Then that's when it hit me, literally. Emmett the idiot threw a rock at my head. It hit me in the temple and he and his little buddies started laughing. I felt a bit of blood trickle to the side of my head and that's when I heard the one thing I needed to.
"Hey Emmett! What'd'you think you're doin'?!" Jacob called.
Face it, Jacob was scary looking. He was a fucking beast. He easily stood around seven feet and weighed over two hundred pounds.
I saw Emmett and his friends back off and run. Jacob helped me up. "You alright?" He asked. I nodded slowly. "Just a little dizzy is all." I replied.
The rest of the day, my hand rested on my temple collecting blood. I bled easily and a lot. My head stopped bleeding at around lunch time and I sat at Jacob and I's table. I felt like eating but I didn't. I had a complex about how I looked and it made me a bit fragile. Jacob on the other hand ate like a monster. I swear, him and I were the literal definition of fatty and skinny.
As Jacob aproached, I smiled. He sat down and I looked at the massive amount of food on his plate which only made me want to eat more but my mind rejected the reality, it told me I was doing fine and I belived it.
I was seriously fucked up.
A/N: Okay, this is Sky-izzle, the author of this chapter. I've never done one of these a/n thingies so...yeah. I hope you liked-ed-ded it.
:D
Peace out,
Skylar.
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