Hey guys, sorry for the late update. It's 3am here and I'm officially exhausted! I tried saving this document, but my computer had a tiny seizure and I lost it ALL. So I rewrote it just for you. I wanted to get this to you because it's such an important part of the story. Yes, it's intense. But it needs to be. I'm changing my rating from a T to an M just to be safe. This story has dark elements, which makes sense if you think about it. Abuse isn't all rainbows, unicorns and fluff. It's real. It's raw and it's wrong.
I don't own Twilight
3
EPOV
She came back to my cafe many times since our first meeting. We would sit and talk for hours. Although it made my coworkers happy to see me alive again, they complained about our time spent together. They poked fun at the fact that I'd become more of a customer than an employee. Bella and I talked about everything. It was always something different too. It hadn't ever occurred to me that I could find somebody like her. I felt so...comfortable. I could look a fine mess, and she would still look at me as if in amazement. I felt as if I could tell her anything. She was the only person I had ever held this connection with. I could say something obviously dumb, and she would continue on with me as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. I loved the time I spent with her. I loved the way her hair fell across her shoulders in waves of chocolate brown. I especially loved her eyes. No words could describe the effect he had on me, and I even loved that. I longed to express my feelings, but I knew it would be wrong. She hadn't told me anything about a boyfriend, yet I knew he was there. Every night he was there to call and interrupt our time together. Maybe I was just letting my mind run wild, but I know what I can see. Almost every two days my angel would show up with a fresh bruise somewhere on her milky skin. Each one I saw caused a pain in my heart. I was letting this delicate girl be abused by some monster. I watched it play out right in front of my eyes.
Soon I found a pattern in the purple bruises. The later she left me, the more wounds would appear. It was such a selfish thing for me to do, but I found myself stalling to keep her with me longer even though I knew what would come of her tardiness. For this, I hated myself-but I couldn't do anything to change it.
All I could do was appreciate time with her whilst still keeping things light. I drove her to places so she could get some shots to keep her job. On one of these outings, she kissed my cheek. Yes it is something very trite, although I can't get it out of my mind. Her lips so close to mine, the tenderness of them. Her eyes always seemed to light up when we were together. It drove me insane to think that her eyes aren't always sparkling as I saw them.
BPOV
Jacob's anger got worse and worse as the time progressed. He hated me being out so late because it meant that his dinner would be late. How medieval! I hated coming home to him. Not only was I leaving my Edward (who really isn't even mine, but a girl can dream can't she?) but I had to buck up for yet another beating. I loathed Jacob, but I couldn't just leave him. Where would I go? Edward probably just sees me as some friend he can hang with, so that's out of the picture eh?
Jacob has a thing about schedules. He needs them. He honestly can't live without them. Everyday he leaves early for an office job downtown for 6 hours. After he gets off work, he lurks around making an extra buck on the streets. He even has a schedule for me. Get up, make breakfast, go to work, come home, make dinner. If he knew that I had done anything but, he would flip. I should have remembered this. While chopping up some onions, I let myself slip and mention something about one of the trips Edward took me on. Spending so much time with him helped me break my shell, and I forgot to watch my tongue. I tried to cover up what I had said by brushing it off as if it was nothing. Jacob noticed, nonetheless.
"What did you just say?" he asked. I could hear the anger rising.
"Uh...I just said that I agree that the forests are, um...very dense." I whispered.
"How the hell would you know? You aren't allowed to go anywhere but work!" He said, his voice was raised now. At least he wasn't yelling yet.
"I, um.." He cut me off before I could come up with anything. "You've been seeing somebody else, haven't you?!" I heard his down the rest of his beer, and slam it down onto the table. Scared to turn around, I tensed up and tightened my grip around the knife. He pushed back his chair and stalked toward me. I prayed to God that he wouldn't turn me around to face him. I got my wish.
"So you have gone behind my back!" He yelled. He walked up behind me and pressed his body into mine, ramming my hips into the counter. The piercing pain quickly retreated to the back of my mind as he wrapped his hands around mine. Breathing heavy into my ear, he brought my left hand down to my hip and held it there.
"How does it feel to disobey?" He mumbled. "Those who disobey need to be punished" he said in a low voice. His tone was menacing, and his words were slurred. The alcohol was taking effect, which could only mean trouble.
Jacob's grip tightened around my right hand holding the knife. With ease, he forced the knife up to my face. He let the tip of the knife graze over and draw figure eights on my cheek. In his drunken state, the knife slipped and ended up puncturing the skin. At this point I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to not focus on the pain in my cheek. Tears welled up in my eyes and threatened to pour over. At my reaction, Jacob boomed with laughter. He found my pain amusing.
"So you think you can wrong me, little whore?" He whispered in my ear. The knife trailed down my cheek to right below my jawbone. He repeated that phrase over and over as he pressed the knife into my neck. I could feel the cold metal slice my skin and then disappear. I was frightened to open my eyes, so I squeezed them tighter. I then felt him force my left arm up onto the cutting board. His hand tightened over mine, holding it in place. Even if I tried, I couldn't get my arm away from him. He was way too strong. He pressed into me even harder before I felt the knife on my forearm. My stomach twisted into a knot once I realized what he was about to do.
"So you think you can wrong me, little whore?" He whispered once again. "Think again!" he hissed right before swiping the blade across my arm. I screamed and my eyes flew open to see what he had done. The flowing blood almost caused me to pass out, but I closed my eyes. I know that fainting is the last thing that should happen right now. Jacob stepped away from me and threw a dirty rag at me. "Clean up. I'll be home within the hour." He stumbled out the door after grabbing himself another beer.
I waited no longer than a second before I ran upstairs to the bathroom. I found my secret first aid kit and pulled out some butterfly closures and gauze. I examined the slice, and although it was the worst of the three cuts, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. It could use some stitches, but there was no time for that. I wrapped it tightly in gauze and held it above my heart to slow the bleeding. I looked in the mirror and saw blood dripped down from my cheek and neck onto my chest. I wiped myself clean and changed out of the bloody shirt. I fell onto my bed in a state of shock and revulsion. Before I knew it, Jacob was falling up the stairs to come find me. I finished buttoning my shirt wiped the extra tears from my face. He barged into the room and slurred some sort of insult. He walked over to me, smiling and ripped of my clothes. In the dim light I could see his eyes glazed over. He smelled of beer and cigarettes. After taking his own shirt off, I saw the fresh track marks on his arm. My stomach twisted into a ball once again as I realized what I had in store for the night. Alcohol makes him abusive, but cocaine makes him worse.
