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'No Ordinary Cinderella' – A Twilight Fanfic

By No Ordinary Cinderella

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Saffron's POV

Chapter Two

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Step by agonizing step, I walked. Each step brought me a whole new adrenaline of pain as I leaned on each one of my legs, reaching one in front of the other, whilst trying my hardest not to limp.

"Oh my precious!" My father sarcastic voice snarled. His cackling laughter seemed to swim around in the air as he ventured nearer. I was on my knees now, my shivers beginning and my breathing becoming uneven. My hands seemed to grab at tufts of the mistreated carpet as I withdrew backwards. Each drag of my body seemed to bring him two steps closer until his grimacing face and body began to inch its way closer, inch by inch, he was closing the distance. The cold sweat ran across my forehead as the tiny brown hairs on my arm seemed to have stood up, and been paralysed with fear.

"What am I going to do to you today?" He slurred. "Ha! I know!" And with his last words, he grabbed his bottle of beer, smashing the top of the bottle until sharp, jagged ends were made. The resounding clink of glass crashing was just enough for my heart to go into spasms of wild fear. First round: Terrify is complete.

As I neared my destination, my back perked up, instead of being hunched and I tried to remain as straight as possible. Hunching helped to ease the pain, but as my back straightened out, the pain shot upwards, curling around my spine tightly, clinging, tangling itself in every single bone. I read the small wooden sign that read: 'River Valley High School'. Yes, my town was named after it's 'famous' rivers that bended in odd shapes and angles, it's famous jutting and turning of the water running through the small, quaint valley of our town. Many came to the town to seek its beauty, and numerous people moved here as well. This was before most of the rivers dried up, or was overcome by woods several years ago. Roughly, the population would count as a thousand and a half. Most of them were descendants of these people.

I soldiered on though, trying in vain hope to reduce the physical subjugation of the throbbing in my tender legs.

His features were trimmed into a mocking smile as his cold, heartless eyes swiftly looked from the bottle, and back to me. My father's lips turned into a cruel malevolence smile as his feet sauntered there way over to my neglected body. His face was layered in a bitter mask of hatred as his eyes burned with his demonic thoughts. His muscled arm swung as he scraped the bottle up my leg and back down again, making a river of blood as he switched and repeated. My voice made no sound as he did this, but salty tears tracked my face as my father became furious to my silence, I had been keeping it up for three years after all, and plunged the jagged ends harder into my pale skin. The pain was all too evident on my face, and he smiled as he caught my scrunched-up look. The green glass cut me deeply, and when he sliced the bottle into me again, it brought up the meaty flesh which oozed with my red blood. Throwing the bottle into the bin, his satisfaction grew as my face was contorted. His fresh, malicious laugh once again, was sounded. The pain now, was numbing, but was definitely never going to be forgotten and will probably come back to haunt me further tomorrow. Two out of three down, only one more round to go. Second round: Physical Abuse is complete.

Meandering into the car park, I began to walk to my locker. My bag did not hurt today, on my bruised shoulders, as my legs cancelled out all the other amount of cuts. The 'normals' as I called them, were the lucky creatures that had a loving home, got meals three times a day, seven days a week, and had someone to share it all with, someone that really care about them and loved them. They even had friends and relatives and girlfriends and boyfriends and sisters and brothers and parents that truly wanted them, whilst I, had no one and always would, have no one by my side.

They are luckier then they will ever realise and if I had a chance at a normal life, I would take it into my grasp and forever be grateful for just that tiny bit of joy spreading into my heart. I wouldn't throw it back in my loving parent's faces and take advantage of them like they did, no; I would cherish that life if it ever came. But that life would never come and dreaming about that will only just break the resolve of my already slashed heart. No one will like me, no one will want me, and no one will love me. It's as if I didn't exist, and to those who really did know I existed, never cared. My life was just a distant star, forgotten and never special. Whilst others around me shone brightly, blinding you with their light. My star was an ever retreating one, its light just waiting to be extinguished.

His prowling figure stepped towards me, until he reached my mangled body and the carpet and walls which had been submerged in blood. My father's deluded guffaw echoed in my ears as he stepped closer, his face becoming stonier, and serious. His cold, rough hands slapped my face, and I felt the bruise forming in a matter of seconds as the pain flooded my mind.

"I hate you! You look just like your mother, except your mother was beautiful, beyond pretty, extraordinary, perfect, graceful, smart, and intelligent. She was the most respected doctor this town has ever seen. She was loved by many," He spat into my face, "Unlike you. You may have captured her beauty, but you have made it revolting, distorted it. You're none of the things she is and you never will be beautiful, or even smart for that matter. You're a stupid, foolish, ugly girl. No one will ever love you." His snarl rippled an explosion through my body as he spoke these words with as much hatred and disdain. He was right, after all.

I thought that physical pain was the worst pain you could ever experience. I was wrong. So wrong. My bodily pain could never compare to that of my glass heart, which shattered each time it heard those words. You never will be beautiful, or even smart. The fragile glass splintered into minuscule pieces and proceeded to dig itself sharply into the empty cavern where my heart used to lay. You're a stupid, foolish, ugly girl. The clear glass clawed at my flesh until it left me bleeding and emotionally disturbed with reality. No one will ever love you. This truth made all the pain go, all my emotions dissolve and everything fizzled out to numbness, like I was a zombie with no emotions, I could not feel anything and I never tried to either.

The 'normals', as they saw me approaching school, turned their backs at the sight of me, possibly irritated and hating me for never fitting in. Even the misfits seemed to blend in with the crowd as my small feet plodded along the pavement. Boys and girls that caught my eye, set an evil flare with theirs and then turned their heads, they did not approve of my vow of silence. Some had ventured forward on my first day starting here and tried to be talk to me, but really, it was a sad attempt, because no one, not even I, could break this silence.

But another reason was, was that I could not have a friend, I would not. My sister was my best friend, and I would never replace her. I couldn't and I wouldn't. They wouldn't even try to be my friend if they knew the truth. They would run, just like everyone else always did. What I always did, when I got home, avoiding him, but it never worked. I was always the prey, and he, always the predator. It was just a vicious and manipulative circle of life.

Another reason as having silence as a lonely companion; was that I was scared. I always was, but I never showed it. I was scared to never be looked at, scared at never been given a chance of happiness, scared that I may never have a family or friends, but the thing that scared me the most, was that, no one would ever love me.

I had read all the countless classics and every love story. Even in Wuthering Heights, where there was only hatred that roamed in between every line, where two people had so many bitter qualities, they still had one treasured, cherished one. One that I would gladly give anything for; love. Even in tales, the pages, and words, seemed to be making remarks at me, taunting me, sniping at me, reminding me of things that will never be forgotten and what I will never reach or what I haven't got or what I want most. Even in the world of fairytale kingdoms, life was unjust and cruel to me.

I arrived at my locker with 'evils' bearing into my back as the 'normals' called them. Their eyes fixed on me as they hated me for not fitting in. Just another place where I didn't belong in.

Sighing, I placed my bag in my locker and took out my new schedule. Just another ordinary year, as days slip by unnoticed, waiting for the death that never seemed to come.

Class 1 – English – Mr Wilson – Building 3

Class 2 – Music Appreciation – Mr Gowland – Building 1

Class 3 – Gym - Mr Wright – Gymnasium

Class 4 – Chemistry – Mrs Taylor – Building 4

Class 5 – LUNCH

Class 6 – FREE PERIOD

Class 7 – Calculus – Mr Flood – Building 5

Slipping my schedule back into my locker after memorising it, I grabbed my books, being careful to spread the weight evenly on both arms, and then banged my locker shut and continued through the silence of the corridors and I was forever attuned to that sound. No tiny whimper managed to squeeze itself out, no 'oomph' when getting hit in the head in gym, no 'ouch' when hurting myself, no 'yippee!' if I won something, no nothing.

My legs began to wobble from the throbbing ache in my legs as I continued to put my full weight on them as I trod unevenly to my first class. I arrived ten minutes early and sat on a seat near the window.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The incessant stroll of the hands of the clock seemed to not matter to me, as I heard the faint click as it rolled onto the next second.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

Time was just a mere thing in between reality, which was measured in how long I could survive without a new opening of the skin.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

One by one, students gathered in the classroom, first passing me a disapproving glance and then focusing on non-important things such as inane chattering. I still sat there, my hands on my lap, back straight, head looking straight forward on the blackboard, magnifying a tiny dot on it in my speculation, and concentrating, blocking out all the nonsense that went on around me. I just wanted to be alone, but at the same time I didn't. I wanted to be accepted and I wanted to be treated like one of them. To be in on their absurd mutterings and crude jokes, to be apart of the 'fun' and to be normal. But, I already knew three years ago that wouldn't happen, so why get hopeful now?

The rest of the day ticked by slowly, second after second, minute after minute, hour after hour, but surely, the clock still seemed to keep ticking and tocking its way deliberately slow and I would forever be grateful for it. The lunch bell rang and I raced out of my seat and quickly to my locker, shoving my books inside and greedily snatching my money which I had saved up the whole of last week for and strode forward impatiently for anything to be put into my cavernous stomach.

Opening the doors, I bought some pizza and chips, fattening foods really, it was all I needed. I paid for them and then limped my way over to the out-of-place corner of the cafeteria. I plonked my tray down and then restfully sat down and munched my food until all of it was gone in two minutes flat. I was used to belting down food; it was the reason for thinking it would be taken off of me as soon as I got it. My father had it snatched away from me too many times; the hunger always bestowed on me was never satisfied, but now was what was going to last me another week, until I could afford another luxury meal from the school cafeteria cooks.

I sat there, my posture perfect, alone, as usual. Sitting there, just staring at the empty tray in front of me. The chatter resumed around me and I began to slowly ebb away from all my fears and begin to dissipate into silence. Sixty minutes, I sat there for, never looking away from my spot in the wall, it was a tiny crack, and I felt sorry for it, because it was a blemish on a perfect white wall. Just like me.

The rest of the day passed by and soon I found myself hobbling home after I had stayed in the library to finish off my home work, all in an attempt to hide away from the thing that frightened me most: my father.

As soon as the latch for the door was unlocked, all I could feel was throbbing pain in my abdomen, eyes, and arms, all I could see were blurry shapes, and one huge one; my father. It was no use hiding from him, he would always find me, always get me, I could never run, never be free. I'd just be chained down to this life to wherever it held me, and hope beyond hope that one day, I could survive out of this wreckage. The last thing that I saw was the black, blurring figure bending over me and laying his fist into my cheek.

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AN: EEEEK! Don't you think it's good!!?!?!!! Well if you do, leave a review! OOOOO that rhymed!!! Yay mee!!

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Preview for Next Chapter:

I nodded my head once to show I had heard the teacher as he called upon me.

"Can you come here?" Once again, a nod. I managed to get up without causing attention to my injured spine and managed to wobble slowly to the wooden desk he kept.

"Well, Saffron, I know this may be hard on you, being a mute and all, but an important part of the curriculum, 20 of your grade actually; is performing a song with…words. I will not make exceptions. If you do not do this, you will automatically fail and if you get lower than a C this year, you will have to be held back? Understand? You failed the last one and that was 15 of the final mark, so if you fail 35 of the final mark, that will be 55 just below a C. You only have one choice: that is to do this, and you must do this with two other people. Everyone else is already paired up except the two new students. Ryan and Edward, you will have to be paired with them, understood?" A salty tear ran down my cheek and I swiped it away before he caught sight of it, nodding once, I turned away and the other tears seemed to splash off my face once they had been held back for too long. I had to do this, otherwise, if I am held back a year, my father would murder me, possibly in a much cruel and bitter way than Cathy's slaying. Do I really want to be killed? A little voice, frail and hoarse whispered one tiny word in my ear: 'No."

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