DISCLAIMER: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer
All lyrics (including chapter titles) belong to Breaking Benjamin

CHAPTER 2: LET THIS LIFE BEGIN

BPOV

I was exhausted. The muscles in my legs burned and I fought with every instinct I had to stop running. But Charlie's house was right around the corner, and I knew that if I could get there then everything would be fine. My knees ached as my feet pounded on the pavement as I increased my pace, going faster and faster in a desperate attempt to get home. I had seen the car as it drove by the playground, and the way it slowed before it drove by me scared me so badly that I didn't give the person inside to look again, even though I knew he backed up. I had hid behind bushes, and as he turned a corner I darted home.

I ran to the tree above my window and vaulted into it, easily pulling myself from branch to branch. I made it to my window, and after a few tugs, pulled it open. I jumped, my body slamming against the house as I caught on to the windowsill. I pulled myself up, ignoring the tight burn in all of my limbs, slid my leg through, and then pulled myself into my room, landing face first on the floor. I stood up, rubbing my nose, and slid my window down.

Despite my obvious pain and the urge to collapse onto my bed, I went downstairs to get a pack of ice to put over my nose—I didn't want to look like a freak on the first day of school, regardless of the fact that I really didn't care what anyone thought. I was rummaging through the ice trays when I heard Charlie lug himself down the stairs. He leaned against the doorframe and watched as I put the ice in the bag and twist it closed, wrapping it in a napkin. "What's that for?"

"I…um…tripped." I pointed to my nose. "Landed face first."

Charlie smiled, remembering some forgotten joke, and then nodded. "So I guess that's what I heard."

I just nodded, not looking him in the eye. We stood there for a moment, not saying anything. Then, he sighed. "Well, I'm going back to bed."

"See you in the morning." He trudged back up the stairs and I almost slumped against the sink in relief. I took a few breaths to calm myself and walked up the stairs to my room, trying to control my breathing. I closed the door and pulled out my copy of Wuthering Heights, the only thing that had been unpacked so far. I sat down on the wooden floor, leaning my back against the bed and opened the book to a random page. I didn't once look at the clock.

Eventually, I made it into bed. Fully clothed, I lay on top of the neatly made blankets and closed my eyes. I wrapped myself into a fetal position, hugging my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I rested my forehead against my knees, curling into a position that made me comfortable enough to forget about everything. Because that's when I needed to forget the most. At night, it gets worse. Night is the time when I have no defenses.

I feel his fowl breath blowing against my neck. I try to scream, but he pushes his hand against my mouth, lowering his lips. One finger digs into me and I squirm from the burn of antibacterial soap and the thought of being contaminated by his dirty fingernails. I bite down on his finger, which has been shoved into my mouth, and keep it clenched between my teeth, trying hard not to let it go. A blinding, searing pain cuts into my face as he hits me, causing my nose to bleed.

My shirt has been ripped open, exposing the cheap bra I had thrown on carelessly that morning. My jeans are at my knees, as well as my underwear as he continued to jam his fingers into me. I wouldn't permit myself to cry, so I looked up at the grungy gray ceiling of the tunnel he had dragged me into. My leg muscles ached with the pain of trying to hold my legs together, and the ground beneath me felt wet—I wasn't sure whether it was water or blood.

The pain was searing. I couldn't fight him off. I couldn't help it anymore. I screamed.

I awoke to my muffled screams, my face being pressed into the pillow. I pressed it tighter against my face, my legs kicking unconsciously. I felt my heart pounding, my stomach swirling. I rolled over onto my stomach, trying to make the feeling go away as the sweat formed on my forehead and dripped through my shirt. I glanced at my alarm clock. Four thirty. Still two hours before I had to get up to go to school. I rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting it run until steam rolled from over the curtain. I stepped in, ignoring the scalding against my skin.

I scrubbed and scrubbed, little sounds escaping my throat as I tried to get all evidence off of me. The washcloth was rubbing my skin raw, but I kept scrubbing until I couldn't feel anything at all. Finally, after what must have been an hour, I stepped out of the shower and glanced at myself in the mirror. My face was red, as was the rest of my body. The brown eyes that stared back at me were expressionless, the body I occupied lifeless. I shrugged at myself and proceeded to go to my room to get dressed.

The drive to school was uneventful. I didn't think back to my nightmare, I just focused on listening to the smooth, velvet voice pouring from the radio speakers. I had been training myself since I was fourteen to forget about them the second I stepped out of the house. It was tucked into a corner of my mind, pushed away and brushed under the carpet so that I could fill its space with something more worth my time, like why I hadn't eaten breakfast or how I was going to survive another day.

I pulled into the school parking lot, looking around. Kids were scattered everywhere, some leaning against their cars and talking, some sitting in the grass around the school, some sitting on the steps, some making out. I opened the door of my truck and climbed out, slamming the door and letting a shower of rust fly. I kept my head down and kept walking, ignoring the looks from curious students.

The day passed by slowly. Classes were full of small, meaningless lessons and introductions. I met Jessica and Mike, Angela and Ben, Lauren and Tyler and Eric. It surprised me that I even remembered their names, seeing that I wasn't really listening to what they said. I was too busy thinking about other things, caring about things that had nothing to do whatsoever with Jessica's prom dress or Mike's new car.

I stared at the faux wood grains of the lunch table, ignoring the grumble of my stomach as I smelled the waxy pizza cheese and apple pie. I wanted to take out my iPod, but the seventeen years of living at Renée's house taught me that it was rude to listen to music at the lunch table, regardless of whether you knew who you were sitting with or not. So I just continued to stare, not hearing or seeing anything going on around me, until Mike spoke up.

"So, Isabella, why did you decide to come here?"

I mentally cringed. "It's Bella," I corrected him for the third time that day. "And I'm not sure why I moved here. I guess I just needed a change."

I was glad when he decided not to probe further into my personal life and turned to Jessica, who was glaring at me. Angela smiled at me as I again began to avert my gaze to the table, and I caught a glare from Lauren. My eyes never reached their spot of comfort on the table though, because right behind Lauren's head was the open cafeteria doors. And standing in the cafeteria doorway was the bronze-haired boy I had seen yesterday.

I felt the breath catch in my throat as I glanced over his body. Tight black t-shirt and loose jeans that hung on his hips. His backpack was slung over one of his shoulders, and he was leaning against the frame, talking to a blonde in front of him. I felt a small wave of jealous. I would give my left boob to be that girl right now…wait. What did I just say?

I didn't know the boy—he could be a complete asshole with a gorgeous body for all I knew. But for some reason, I was feeling jealous that she was getting any sort of attention at all from him. I want him to look at me that way. To tell me the sort of things I'm sure he's telling her. It was completely irrational for me to feel any sort of way about the boy, and I tried desperately to shake off the feeling.

He glanced up and caught my eye.

Blushing furiously, I looked back down to the table, letting my hair fall forward to form a curtain in between us. With my head still slightly bent, I turned to Jessica. "Who's that boy standing in the doorway?"

With a toss of her shiny hair, she turned to look back at him, unabashedly. "Oh, him?" She turned back to me and a smug smile of condescendence crossed her pointy features. "That's Edward Cullen. Don't get your hopes up though, he's never single for long enough to secure a relationship with him." She chuckled and turned back to Eric, who was sitting on her other side.

I felt a pang in my chest, but still couldn't resist looking up again. He was still looking at me, the blonde gone, his arms crossed over his chest as he seemed to look over my face, I'm sure analyzing every flaw. I looked at Angela, who turned and looked back to me. "He's still looking at you," she whispered. Trying to look nonchalant, I shrugged. This caused Lauren to turn and look too.

"Don't all turn to look at once," I murmured. "Don't try to embarrass me at all."

Lauren turned back around to laugh. "His face is so angry. You would think you scratched his car or ran over his dog." I felt my brow furrow at her comment, and scanned the bench in front of me. Everyone was looking at me, and it made me feel small. In a desperate attempt to get away, I grabbed my backpack and stood up. "Sorry. I need to go. I forgot about a trigonometry thing… teacher wanted to meet me at lunch." I gathered all of my things, slung my sweater over my arm and walked toward the door.

He was still standing there, and continued to look at me as I walked out the door. I didn't look up at him, didn't acknowledge him, but kept walking toward a big oak tree in the courtyard. Once I was behind it, I put my stuff on the ground and sat down, pressing my back against the trunk. I pulled out my iPod and stuffed the ear buds in my ears, trying to drown out the noises around me.

He tears at my clothing, trying to rid me of everything. He rips my bra from my chest, and though it clasps in the back, he yanks it from the front, causing the hooks to dig into my skin. I cry out in pain and he laughs. He pinches my breasts between his fingers, mashing my nipples so hard that I cried out.

Another blow to the face.

He lowered his hips between my open thighs—I had given up trying to fight him a long time ago. They lay limp at my sides, but screamed in protest as he pushed against them, trying to make them open wider. He pumped against me, smirking down at me as my eyes widened. "Bella," he whispered, his voice like sandpaper against my skin.

I turned my head to the side so he wouldn't see my tears.

"Bella."

"Bella!" someone was shaking my shoulder, and in that moment I realized that I had probably dozed off. My iPod had died, and I looked up to see Angela crouched over me. "Bella, sweetie, wake up."

I focused in, meeting her eyes. I sat up straighter from my slumped position. "What time is it?" I asked groggily.

"Well, it's been two whole class periods. None of us knew where you were, and since you told me you were in Gym with me, I figured that something happened. So, I came to look for you and found you here. Gosh, that plane ride must have been exhausting."

I nodded my head, even though I wasn't tired from the plane ride. But I couldn't envision telling this sweet girl what I had really been doing last night. So listen, Angela about that. The plane ride wasn't that bad, but I can't stand this stupid town and I hate everyone in it and needed to get away, so at about ten last night I snuck out and hung out at a playground until some stalker showed up and I had to sprint two miles to get home. That probably wouldn't go over well with her and somehow or other Charlie would find out.

So, I just let her pull me up and lead me to the office.

EPOV

My head was pounding.

It felt like someone had literally stuck a jackhammer inside my skull and was riding it full force. And just when that started to fade, little needles would start to poke at the inside of my brain until it was a constant tingling that hurt so bad I was constantly pinching the bridge of my nose to try to ease the pain.

And it was all because I had stayed up all night to drive around while thinking about Isabella, then driving around following Isabella, then in my bed when I was thinking about Isabella, then again in the shower when I was jacking off to thoughts of Isabella. I swear, I couldn't get that girl out of my mind. And it's annoying as hell.

I had gone to school the next day with the typical bags under my eyes. I was sure my hair was all over the place, and I was wearing the same t-shirt that I had worn yesterday. Yet I didn't care. For some reason, my mind was numb—either from the headache or thoughts of Isabella—and I almost literally floated from class to class. God, I'm such a candy-ass.

It was at lunch that my whole day seemed to change. I was standing in the doorway of the cafeteria, talking to Rose about what to do for Emmett's birthday when Jessica Stanley turned to look at me—the slut, I couldn't stand her. Then I met a pair of gorgeous brown eyes.

Holy shit.

She was looking at me with an odd expression—a sort of weird happiness mixed with anger and hurt and…jealousy? Of what? I continued to look at her, soaking in all of the angles and curves of her face, even as she looked back at Jessica. Over all the noise in the cafeteria, I heard Jessica say, "Oh, him? That's Edward Cullen. Don't get your hopes up though, he's never single for long enough to secure a relationship with him."

I almost laughed at the hypocrisy in her statement. I was never single? It was usually her that rotated between Mike and Eric and Tyler then to some guy she met at a bar then her older brother's best friend then Mike again… the list was so long I tended to forget where I started and where it stopped. I was a little surprised however when Isabella seemed to believe her. Hurt filled her eyes as she looked up at me. But almost as soon as it appeared, it disappeared.

Angela turned around—she was my favorite of the group. She was sweet and kind of cute, though she had been going out with Ben since grade school. Lauren—bitch—turned around next to sneer at me, and then said something that caused Bella to duck her head, causing her hair to fall down over her face. Angela turned around again and said something to Bella, who blushed. I grinned. Fuck me hard and throw me in a ditch. She's hot.

After that, everything seemed to happen quickly. She stood, grabbed her bag and began to walk toward me. I began contemplating what I was going to say. "Hey sexy, I'm Edward." Too much like something Mike would say. "Hi, Isabella, would you like me to show you to your next class?" Too much like Eric. "Would you go to Prom with me?" Too much like Tyler. "Hey, I'm Edward. You must be Isabella Swan." Yeah, that would be good.

I was about to open my mouth to say something to her when she walked right past me. I could feel my brows furrowing as I tried to contemplate what had happened, but my brain didn't seem able to function when my nose was filled with the exotic smell of strawberries and…what? Freesias? Something floral—not as heavy as gardenia but not as light as carnation. Oh God, now I sounded like goddamn Martha Stewart.

I thought about following her out to wherever she was going, but checked myself before I started to move. Get a grip, d-bag, I thought to myself. You're acting like a cunt-struck first-grader.

And so, with these thoughts in mind, I let her walk past me, and I didn't follow her.

I did, however, watch her out of the corner of my eye, and turned my head a little as she walked past me. She's got a great ass, I thought to myself in surprise as I saw her disappear behind a tree. It had been a pleasant surprise to see her hair outside of the baseball cap, too—it was longer than I expected, going down to the middle of her waist instead of stopping at her shoulders or maybe further down like I expected.

The bell rang and I made my way to Biology. It was such a boring, redundant class—I knew of freshman that took it, so why they were making us take it junior year was beyond me. Give me Anatomy or Psychology or hell, even Organic Chemistry and I would take it over this. But I digress—there was no way in hell I would complain.

I sat down at my usually empty lab table. Pulling out the textbook, I sat it down on the table and folded my arms against my chest, watching as the tiny red hand on the clock ticked by. Mr. Banner came into the room and rolled a TV in, turning down the lights and signaling a movie day. I groaned. One more boring video about amoebic structure and I was going to haul off and bunch him.

The opening credits began to roll, but I was surprised when Mr. Banner called loudly over the fifties-style opening music, "Has anyone seen Isabella Swan? She was supposed to be in here this period."

Mike's hand shot up in the air. "She was there at lunch but she said she had to meet her Trig teacher."

"Hmm," Mr. Banner said, looking back down at his computer. That's crap, I thought to myself. And then, Oh man, she's in deep shit.

I cleared my throat and did something I had never done for anyone in my life—I covered for her. "Uh, Mr. Banner?" I stuck my hand halfway in the air.

He looked at me, raising an eyebrow.Mike turned to scowl, as if it was a mistake to dare speak about his Isabella that way. "Yes, Mr. Cullen? What is it?"

"She got a little sick after lunch, so she went home for a little bit. I'm not sure if she'll be coming back or not."

"That's funny," Mike said, glaring at me. "She didn't eat anything at lunch."

I stared at him, grinning as he walked himself into a corner. And what did you do about it, dickhead?

"Why not?" I asked.

"She didn't bring money." The monster inside of me crowed.

"Why didn't you get her anything?"

A few people in the room snickered, a few glared at me—including Mike's groupies. I just looked at them all with a look of indifference, chuckling to myself at how ridiculous they were. "Boys, that's enough," Mr. Banner barked. I didn't break eye contact with Mike until he turned around. Event then, I glared at the back of his head. Mr. Banner stood up and walked over to the VCR, rewinding through the two minutes of video we missed.

"Let this be a reminder to you all," he said. "When your hormones get in the way, you miss out on valuable learning experiences."

I couldn't control my snort of laughter. Fuck your mother…

Wait a minute, what? What hormones? Oh, shit…