Chapter 3
Bree Speaks
"I guess I should start at the beginning then, um...ok. My father is from the Middle East. He came here, to America, to attend college. Even then, he was ambitious, and the opportunities here for him were too good for him to ignore. So he stayed. He never liked the freedoms the women here have, but he hid his prejudice well and married my mother. She was from a Middle Eastern family, as well, but they had embraced the American lifestyle, mostly, and she wasn't prepared for the way my father treated her once they were married.
He beat her for not wanting to wear a burka and would not let her leave the house alone, nor talk to anyone. She was already pregnant with me, and he was keeping her on a very tight leash. She wasn't even able to talk to her parents away from him. When I was born, he put on a good front for everyone, pretending to be the doting father, but he was furious. He had wanted a son. By the time I was two or thereabouts, my Mom had had enough. She managed to contact a friend, and one day she just left. She took just a few clothes and photos and ran. She left me behind to save herself." I looked down at my hands. "I get it, she had to get away...but why she left me I don't know."
Esme spoke, her voice soft and echoing with past pain. "If she had taken you, she would have never been free." I looked up at her. She smiled a little, painful and sad. "My human life was like your mother's. I escaped before my husband discovered I was pregnant. I ran, and when I had my little boy I was sure I was free and whole, but he died just three days later. I wished I was dead, too. I wanted to be, I wanted to be with my baby. So, after we buried him I threw myself off a cliff."
I stared at her, shocked.
She continued. "Your mother was running for her life dear one. I don't agree with her leaving you behind, but she must have been very scared to run like she did."
I nodded. Taking a deep breath I began again. "My father was horrible. Growing up was a nightmare. I had to be clean all the time, be quiet, and do exactly what I was told. He had a routine; it was stricter than the army. Everything had to be done at the precise same time. I was never allowed to play. The first time I saw toys was in Pre-school. The teacher called my father because she didn't understand why I was so confused by them." I smiled sadly.
"I had to do well at school; I had no choice. When I was home, I studied or did chores. By seven, I could already do long division. Funny enough, my father was an excellent teacher, and the only time he ever seemed kind was when he was teaching me things. I liked our lessons. He'd punish me if my room wasn't perfectly clean, or my clothes got more than a tiny bit dirty, but he never got mad at me when he was teaching. I tried really hard to please him, and I got the best marks in my class because of it." I paused.
"When I went to high school the beatings got worse. I guess I started to look too much like my mother, and my father started to drink more. By the time I was fourteen, life was hell. I had to come straight home after school, like always, but I desperately wanted to go to the mall with my friends. They never understood why I always had to go home, and that I could not have them over. Sometimes, my father would allow me to go to their homes, for appearances you know, but no one was allowed in our house. They would have seen too much, I guess."
I sighed remembering the bare room I had slept in. It only had just my bed, bookcase, desk and student chair. I had a good lamp for reading and school work, and there were lots of books in the bookcase. My only gifts at Christmas or on my birthdays were art supplies or books.
"Anyway, I broke the rules and went to the mall with my friends. I ate fast food and had a wonderful time. I even brought a pretty pink lip gloss." I smiled at the memory. "When I got home, he was waiting. He beat me so badly I had to stay home from school for a week. The next day, he announced he was sending me to a super strict all girls boarding school. All I had to look forward to in life were my friends. So, I put my few belongings in my school knapsack and ran away. I did not care that he had always said runaways die. I would have rather died than be sent away." I grimaced at the attentive faces.
"I didn't think it through very well. I met up with a couple of my friends who each gave me a few dollars, but it wasn't long before I was really hungry. I was sort of used to it; Dad had sent me to bed a few times a month without dinner. This was different though. I was really hungry, and that is when I met Riley. He was so cute, and he brought me a hamburger. I knew he'd want something for it, but I was so hungry I didn't care. After I ate, we walked down an alley, and I was steeling myself for whatever was coming next. But, he just knocked me out, and when I woke up SHE was there. I remember her soft baby voice and then pain. The burning was awful. I screamed and screamed and begged to die but no one cared. When it was over, I was a monster."
I smiled bitterly at the Cullen's.
"I kept to myself, I used to hide behind Freaky Fred's chair. No one went anywhere near Fred. We always went out in groups with a slightly older vampire. One night it was Diego who went out with our group. He was patient but also annoyed with the way the other newbies behaved. That night Diego and I got caught out after sun came up, and we were surprised because the sun didn't kill us like Riley had said it would. After that, I didn't trust him any more, but Diego went to him. He told him about the sun. Diego trusted Riley; they were friends, I think. Diego used to help Riley keep the brand new newborns in line. They killed him for it."
I began to cry into my hands, missing the ability to shed real tears. "I think I might have loved him. We didn't get the chance to find out."
Carlisle reached over and squeezed my hand, and Esme put her arms about me. Then, I told them all about freaky Fred, and how I was sure he read the books I left for him.
"Fred was nice to me; he wanted me to run away with him. He must have been gifted like all of you. No one could get too close to him. He protected me. He knew I would sit behind his couch. I think he let me in or something and hid me." I looked around at the others. "Can we find him, do you think?"
A silent communication went around the room, and Alice seemed to blank out again. "We will find him at the park, waiting for you. He will stay longer hoping you come."
I nodded. "When can we go? He needs to know about the Volturi and about the others."
Edward and Alice had another silent conversation. She then said, "We can leave tomorrow, it will be cloudy out, and we will meet with him at 6 pm."
I smiled, a great wash of relief going over me. I would at least save one friend.