S.M owns all characters.

All mistakes are my own.

Necrophobia- Fear of death or dead things.


December 15th 2017, 9:54 am EST

Dear Mrs. Rosalie McCartney,

These words are being composed from a very small island with a very large population.

Eight months of the year when the gates are open, people are sentenced to this place.

More than thirty each week, and more than a four hundred every three months.

They are transferred from all over the world and one by one a city within a dead city grows.

We have never met, and therefore we never will.

You do not know who I am, who I was, or who I will become, but I have grown to know who you are.

The way you liked to sing in the mornings, and how you liked your coffee.

The way you looked on your wedding day, and the way your tears had made him smile even more.

I have never been in love, and I never will know what it's like to wake up to the person you love most in the world.

But I imagine it to be something you don't just throw away.

I met Emmett on a very hot day, in the beginning of my new life.

We did not speak, nor did we look each other in the eyes.

He had been another face in a faceless crowd, and I had been just another body in a sea of them.

Though at the time I would forget, we had stood beside each other, and watched as the people we travelled with crossed the barriers and became part of the island.

It would not be for a very long time that I would set my eyes upon his face again, and it would take even longer before I would come to find out about the love he had left behind.

It wouldn't be for almost a year until I learned your name.

And even longer until I learned that you had given up on him.

I didn't know it when I first set my eyes on him, but he would come to save my life one day.

At night, he still murmurs your name. Like a prayer, he looks at his hands and mutters his apologies to you like you can hear his whispered words.

And he hangs his head when he thinks of you, his face so drawn I could sketch the sharp angles of despair that line his bones.

I have never been in love, and I will never know the pain of what it's like to fall asleep wishing to wake up to the person you love most in world.

But I imagine it's a kind of pain that has no words, that cuts so deep, and burrows so heavily in your heart that it's like your slowly rotting from the inside.

A kind of pain that leaves you scared.

Something you will always carry with you.

A reminder that even the ones you love can hurt you.

And that most of the time, they are the ones that cut the deepest.

And leave the worst scars.

June 2nd, 2016 5:56 pm EST

Behind me, someone is breathing against my neck.

Lazy swirls of heat weave through my hair and linger along my skin as moisture clings to the flesh stretched across the tip of my spinal cord.

Tightening my shoulders, I stare ahead at the dust that dances within the crisscrossed shapes of light.

"You will not speak" barks the man who stands at the front of the rusting city bus. "You will be placed in a line, and you will not move" His face is to pale against the black of his uniform. Pulled over his bones like someone is tugging against his flesh, I can see the way his back is tight against the strain of standing straight as the bus wobbles along the broken asphalt. His eyes draw along the rows of inmates "Your Keeper will not remove your cuffs until the gates are closed" his pupils dilate as sketches of sun draw along his angled face "any prisoners who attempts escape will be shot on sight."

Around me, people are cursing against the gags that were forced between gritted teeth, their red faces pinched against the heat that leaks through the metal bars that line the cracked windows.

Beside me is my Keeper who will cut my plastic cable ties once we cross the gates. The index finger of his right hand taps against the plastic loop of the scissors on his hip.

I watch as his throat moves and he pulls his hand away, tucking his twitching fingers between his knees and turning to watch the man in black at the front.

The driver has his head bent towards the wheel, his balding head shinning in the sun that lays against the metal skeletons that line the horizon. Within his caged box, sweat streaks his forehead and dampens the fabric beneath his arms.

He breathes through his mouth, puckering his lips as he turns away from the road to glance at his watch and mutter to the man beside him.

The guard nods but doesn't turn to look at the driver. He fixes his gaze slightly above the heads of the inmates and stares down the length of the bus, his fingers dancing along the pearl handle of the pistol that sits cradled in the leather holster on his hip.

Moisture lines his temple as the heat begins to drag along our limbs, pulling at the cloths that lay against our warming flesh.

Scents whirl around my head, decay heavy as it lingers against the bodies of the men and women traveling to the island.

Putrid body odor and urine begin to sweep around us and I turn and press my head against the cracking glass, pushing against the sickness as it begins to stir within my empty stomach.

The bus jumps, the worn tires lurching against the crumbling roads as we move towards the bridge.

Slowing to a stop, the driver leans over, unlocking the cage around his window and sliding the glass over to speak to the black uniformed guard who sits in the old toll both, his head tipped back as he looks lazily upon the new shipment.

He nods, his fingers dancing over button before the first gate buzzes and the metal netting lifts upwards, opening a doorway for the vehicle.

Watching as we move, I count the taunt cables that sway slightly in the blistering breeze as they sweep towards the arching lines of metal above us.

Turning, I watch the broken teeth like buildings protruding from the concrete gums grow, their ragged bodies reaching towards a burning sky.

My jaw aches against the wooden dowel that's clamped between my teeth, my bones throbbing with my heartbeat. I can still taste the disinfectants that linger along the grains, their chemical smells moving across my tongue as I shift my jowl.

Again the bus slows, the driver unlocking his gate and speaking the man in the booth beside us. The guard mutters something back before speaking into the small radio that's pinned to his shoulder. Static reaches my ears but he bobs his head and presses the buzzer to unlock the second gate.

Pulling through slowly, the driver maneuvers the bus across the old lanes and parks.

Around me, people are screaming. I can hear their muffled cries as their Keepers stand and cut the second cable ties that held our bound hands to the bars that arch across the backs of the seats in front of us.

My Keeper's hands shake slightly as he reaches over me and slips the blade under the thick plastic, running the cold metal across my thin skin of my wrists.

Breathing through his nose, he cuts and pulls back quickly, clenching the scissors in one and grabbing at my bound hands with the other. Hauling me up, he pulls me forward and into the aisle.

Beneath the waves of aftershave I can smell the perspiration that lines his temple, the sharp tang of fear lingering along his hair line as he shifts nervously at my side.

Curses fill the air as someone manages to rip their gag from their face, screaming at the men in uniforms and wrenching at the hands that hold him.

My Keeper presses his knee against the back of my legs and forces me forwards, his grip of my hands stopping my body from toppling forwards.

"Move" his voice snaps, the word shaking at the end and he presses me forwards again until my legs stiffen and my feet work under my body, walking us to the front of the bus behind the line of inmates who have been forced into the aisle to.

Stepping down the steep stairs I am turned to the left and marched to the far side, away from the bus and lined with my back facing the water that stretches out behind us.

Wind whips against my hair, cooling the heat that had begun to build, and tangling it around my face.

Four men stand before us, sleek guns pointed at struggling chests, the long barrels shinning in the summer sun and reflecting on the patchwork pavement.

The man who rode with us moves to stand between the men, his hand still at his hip as he waits for the last Keepers to transfer their charges to the line, and move to stand behind us.

"One by one you will be moved to the cages." His eyes move away from us and fall on the last gate and the ten metal mesh boxes that line the towering fence. "Once inside, the cage will lock." Running my eyes along the doors of the cages I trace the metal latches that line the seams. "You will place your hands through the slot and your cuff will be cut." I eye the small rectangle hacked between the crisscrossed metal and turn back to the man "the opposite door will open and you will are to exit within thirty seconds" he turns back to the lineup and presses his lips together. "Failure to comply will result in serious consequences, and will be handled swiftly."

The man nods and the inmate at the beginning of the row is pushed forwards by his Keeper and moved towards the first cage.

Walking stiffly, he turns his head and sneers at the man behind him before his face is smashed by the butt of the gun held in the hands of the guard closest to them. Blood wells up along his eyebrow and begins to slide along his slick skin, staining the flesh along his cheek bone pink.

His Keeper grunts and pulls at the buckle that holds our gags in place. Ripping it from the prisoner's teeth, he places his hand in the middle of the man's back and pushes him forwards.

As they near, the cage hisses and the door opens on its own.

The Keeper thrusts the man inside and steps away as the doors slam shut. The latches snap over the joints as the inmate pulls back to throw himself at the locked door. Screaming at the Keeper, his face pulled as anger swirls through his feature.

As soon as his skin meets the metal I hear the sharp crackle of electrify vibrate through the air. His body jerks, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a scream before he crumples to the ground.

The guard in front of us turns away from the broken man, shaking his head, his lips pulled over his teeth in disgust "The cages are electrically charged, activated on connect, your body will receive .01 amps for twenty seconds." He looks at the man and back at us "very painful."

Across the asphalt I can hear the man gasping, his body shuddering with the last of the electricity that courses through his blood stream.

The guard turns to the woman who stands at the end of the line "Next."

Her Keeper pushes her forward, his hand wrapped around her arm as he jerks her towards her cage. Unsnapping her gag he pulls it from between her lips and pushes her into the enclosure and steps away.

The woman stands in the middle of the metal box, her arm pressed tightly against her thin body, her eyes running over the steel in front of her face. If she were to reach her arms out her side, her fingers would press against the sides.

I watch as Keepers move their inmates to the cages one by one until the last is filled and ten faces stare back at me behind the charged metal.

"Cuffs" says the guard in front the remaining line "Don't touch the cage" he warns the prisoners, a hint of a smile playing on his thin lips and my stomach tightens as I watch the trembling hands slid through the thin opening, offering hands to the people outside.

Their cuffs are cut and trembling fingers are pulled back inside as the Keepers step away.

Then I hear the scream of an alarm as the cages are opened from the other side.

It echoes across the bridge, the sound running over the metal cables thrumming through my ears. Clenching my teeth, I shake my head against the sounds that pound along my temple.

The alarm cuts off as suddenly as it come on and the people stare at doors that have swung forwards, until a steady beep begins; counting the seconds they have to move.

Beep.

29.

Beep.

28.

Beep.

27

Bodies lurch, stuttering limbs pulling them away from the danger of the cage.

Blinking back the pain in my head I watch as the man in the first cage pull himself up and drag his body across the threshold, his bones shuddering under his weight.

The metal clangs as the doors meet their frames, and lock once again.

There is no welcome speech, or people waiting to cuff them again and take them to their reserved cell. As soon as the last door closes the guard turns away from them and looks back at us because they no longer exist to him.

I watch the backs of the ten people who are now on the island look behind them, their eyes moving over the guns before they smile, throwing screaming into the air, they race away from the gate, feet pounding down the ramp and over the broken roads, throwing themselves into the dying island.

Breathing through the fear that has begun to trickle along my throat, I focus on tarmac the sun has heated and the warmth that weaves through the soles of my shoes. The way it winds around my pant covered legs, causing moisture to break out along my skin.

Beside me, the man is moved. His hulking body towers over his Keeper, shadowing the smaller man but he moves without assistance and without disobedience.

When they near the cage he bends slightly and his Keeper unsnaps his gag pulling it from his mouth and motioning him to his cage. Pulling his arms against his sides me steps inside and watches the latches snap.

Behind me, my Keeper wraps my arm in his sweating hand, jerking me away from the line and towards the cages.

His grip tightens, grinding the bones in my forearm together and I clench my teeth against the wood in my mouth.

The wind dances around us, the soft breeze plucking at the slick strands of hair that rest on my forehead and throwing them around my face.

Beneath the fabric of my shirt I can feel my heart beat a tattoo into my skin causing my breathing to jump and stammer as I am moved towards the cages.

Stopping, the Keeper pulls at the snaps behind my head and tug the dowel from between my teeth and looping it around his wrist. My jaw screams as his hand quickly lands on my arm again and he pulls me forward, dropping me as fasts as he touched me when the door opens and he pushes me in.

The door latches and I stand in the middle of the space, the hair on my arms rising as the electricity hums around my body before shutting off.

Six more are moved to the cages before we are told to place our hands outside our cage.

Breathing through my drying lips I carefully slip my hands between the metal and hold them to my Keeper. His fingers wrap around my wrist while his other works on the tie around my hands.

Once the blades work their way through the thick plastic he steps away from me and I tug my hands back to my body, resisting the urge to rub my raw wrists.

This time, when the alarm sounds I know it's going to fill the silence and I grit my teeth against the sounds that echo, forcing my hands to remain at my sides.

As the last notes of the shrill sound fade the door behind me swings open and I turn to watch the metal hinges creak slightly.

The beeping begins and the people around me move quickly, tucking their arms to their sides and moving through the doors.

I stand, staring as they look around, their smiles tugging at their faces. They take in the crumbling buildings and skeletal bones of past lives and see happiness.

Looking around, I see nothing but death.

Around me I can hear the beep accelerate.

Beep, beep, beep.

17, 16, 15.

Beep, beep, beep.

14, 13, 12.

Beepbeepbeep.

11,10,9

Someone stands before me, a body blocking the city from my eyes. Their hand shoots out and wraps around my wrist, jerking me forward.

My feet stumble beneath me, and my knees smack against the stone under us.

"Are you fucking stupid!" a man shout at me and drop my hand like I burned them.

Shaking their head, they step away from me and turn to run down the slopping asphalt.

I watch until they become very small.

And then disappear.

Behind me I hear the doors close and the black dressed guard telling the next group of Keepers to move their inmates forward.

Struggles begin, the sounds rolling around like dust until I can hear the screams of someone, their voice reaching out and wrapping around my throat.

I turn and watch as a man jerks away from his Keeper and swings his bound fists up, clipping the guards jaw and sending him reeling.

The man doesn't stop to look around as he turns and runs towards the side of the bridge. His feet jumping over the old stone dividers and racing to the edge.

Behind him, a guard takes aim.

His face pinched as he eyes the back of the man running. His hands are steady as his finger runs the length of the trigger.

I open my mouth but the shot rings forth, drowning my voice and filling the world with gunpowder and noise.

It hits its target and the man flings forward, his body tumbling with the impact and folding over the railing. His voice rips from his body as he screams, his frame shuddering.

Guards move towards the body, their heavy boots crunching as they move.

The other inmates struggle against the holds of their Keepers.

I watch the blood being to stain the grey of his t-shirt.

Slowly blooming from the ragged bullet hole, he paints the concrete rail red.

January 19th, 2018 Just before dawn am EST

As I breathe I can see the white shadows my exhales leave.

They drift up towards the barren ceiling before fading into blackness.

Around me, I can hear the steady breathing of Edward, his back pressed against the wall beside me, his head lolled forward, and fingers tucked under his arms.

Across from us, Emmett turns on his side, his face buried in his backpack and legs pulled up to his chest.

Outside I can hear the howl of the wind as it bangs against the large bay door as rain begins to pelt against the film across the windows.

Closing my eyes, I turn away from the murky moonlight and rest my head along the iced wall.

"How many people have tried to cross the ice since you've been here?" asks the man beside me, his joints cracking as he shifts against the stone floor.

"A lot" I whisper, tucking my chin into the collar of my coat.

"And they've all…?"

"Died."

"Who notifies their families?" he asks me and I scoff.

"No one."

"So they will never know that they died on the island?"

"No, they'll know, just won't know how, or when. Once their sentence is over and they don't appear officially that person is dead. There be papers that state they died in prison and their will most likely be a funeral, but there will be no body, and a family will be mourning an empty casket"

"And no one questions it, that there isn't a body" he frowns, the movement pulling the skin across his cheeks tight.

"Think about it, Edward. Your desperate enough to risk crossing the ice, your sentence isn't just five, ten years and you're tired of waiting. It's your life and you don't remember which is worse anymore. Dying on frozen land, or drowning in frozen water. Those aren't the type of souls people miss or look for."

After that, Edward doesn't say anything for a long time, leaving the moon to drop in silence and the sun to peek over the horizon and disappear into the clouds alone.

"And what about you?" he mutters, his voice rough.

"Me?"

"Have you forgotten which is worst?"

I don't turn to look into the eyes I know are searching for an answer.

Shaking my head, I press my lips together "No, I haven't forgotten" I meet his eyes "it's just that some days, what's worse and what's better switch places."

Silence then, "I don't know how to take that" he murmurs and I snort.

"You don't have to take it any way" I shrug and turn to look at Emmett, his face contorting with his dreams. "We've all got things that other people can't understand."

Edward follows my eyes, his lips pressed together "You've know him a long time?"

"A while."

"So you trust him?"

"With my life" I sigh and look back at Edward "Just ask me."

"Ask what?"

I roll my eyes "Edward, I'm not stupid, I know what you're thinking so grow some balls and just ask."

Huffing he turns away from me, his cheeks colouring, he asks, gruffly "Sleeping with him?"

I shake my head, my lips tugging "He's married."

"So you and he, never…?"

"No" I say and roll my eyes "Emmett helped me out and I stuck to him. Trust me, half the time he probably wishes I'd disappear."

"More than half the time" mutters Emmett and I chuckle.

Pushing himself up, I notice as he shoves his shaking hands into his pockets and rolls his shoulders "Saved her skinny ass from some big bad guys in the South End. Haven't been able to ditch her since."

"You'd be lost without me" I retort.

Emmett grins and wiggles his eyebrows at Edward as he says "don't let her fool you though, she wishes she could have all of this" his shoulder shaking his body.

"Oh please," I look at Edward, rolling my eyes "He ain't my type, to damn annoying."

"I resent that" says Emmett.

"I don't care." I snip and turn to my backpack, searching through the cans and pulling out my notebook and dictionary. "I should get going" I turn to look at Emmett, pulling my lip between my teeth" I won't be gone very long."

"I'll be fine" he says and waves his hand in the air "just go."

"I can stay." I tell him

"You don't need to" he says.

Sighing, I push myself up, my knees cracking as I stand. "Two hours tops."

"Bella, I am a ass grown man, I don't need a damn babysitter, just go and do whatever it is you do."

"Fine" I huff and turn to Edward "Make sure he doesn't kill himself while I'm gone."

Emmett grumbles and mutters under his breath as I move around our bags and towards the door. Slipping my books, pen, and lighter into my pockets, I pull up my hood and step out into the roar of the rain.

Ducking my head I turn back towards the road and shove my hands into my pockets.

"Bella!"

I stop and turn to watch Edward as he jogs through the rain, his hood falling back as wind whips against us.

"What do you want?" I shout through the storm, the torrents pounding down against the tarmac in heavy sheets of icy water.

"Do you really think it's a good idea for us to spilt up right now? With everything that happened last night?" he asks once he reaches me, the water soaking his hair, plastering it to his forehead. "Maybe we should take some time to regroup."

I frown at him "I got shit to do Edward; I can't just sit around here so you can feel safe."

"That's not what I meant" he shouts, frowning at me.

Shaking my head, I look over his shoulder at the warehouse "Go back inside Edward. I'll be back soon." I turn on my heels and walk away from him.

I can hear as he shouts my name at my back, but he doesn't run after me again.

xxx

Mom,

We have spent the last two years in a one sided silence.

With me screaming at you to listen to my pain.

And you, ignoring my cries as you pick out the furniture for the new nursery.

With time, I have come to realize that your silence while a curse, is also a blessing.

Like confessing my sins, I can write to you without the fear of ridicule.

Describe the days that scar me, and the days that are the reasons of me still breathing.

The day that I would officially met Emmett, was the day I watched a man jump from the roof of a building.

He fell with his arms out at his side, his body tipping forwards like a diver dropping to water.

At first, he did not scream.

But as the stories melted away and his descent grew smaller, I heard a cry slip from his lips.

Then I heard his bones cracking as his body struck the concrete.

It was the beginning of December, not five day into the month and snow had already encased the city.

My boots had been too big, and they rubbed blisters into my feet.

Like walking on coals.

As blood began to circle the broken man's body, the snow began to melt and I could see the sidewalk beneath us.

I shouldn't have moved closer, because it was what they wanted.

And I shouldn't have stopped to wait and see if he would stand because they had hoped for that to.

But at the time I had been naive, new to the world in which I lived in and to trusting of even the dead.

The pipe met the back of my skull didn't kill me, like it had the boy, but it knocked me forwards. Causing waves of sickness to swirl around my brain and fog my eyes.

My knees skidded across the ground, and my arms sprawled out in front of me.

I could hear people laughing as they moved around my body.

The pipe as it tapped against my body, they poked and probed at me before a boot slammed into my stomach and I cried out, curling into myself.

"Don't cry, pretty lady, we won't hurt you" one of them had said, as they crouched down near my head and ran a finger under my eye.

"You'll actually enjoy it" another said, laughing.

The third never said a word to me, but he laughed with the others, and it was his hands that reached towards the button of my jeans as the other flipped me onto my back.

I must have screamed, though I don't remember actually doing it. But it made them laugh harder as two of them held my hands above my head and the other worked on my pants.

I remember twisting against them, my legs kicking out in search of flesh and bone, but I never actually hit them.

The man at my legs had managed to pull down my zipper and was tugging the fabric down my legs.

I remember the cold, the way it bite against my skin and numbed my thighs.

And I kept wondering why it was happening in the snow.

Not why it was happening to me, but why they choose to do it then.

Emmett came from behind the men holding my hands.

The other one, too busy with his own pants, didn't look up until jagged metal was pointed at his throat. And a booming voice told him to "get the fuck up."

I remember the heat of the blood that had dripped from the ragged metal teeth onto my legs as the man scrambled away from my body, his eyes wide and his mouth stuttering.

He didn't redo the button on his fly as he held his hands up and turned, running down the street and rounding the block.

The two behind me, lay unconscious, shallow wounds against their skull and the blood matting their hair.

My breathing was too fast, and my hands shook as I lay in the snow, my bare legs burning against the cold as I stared at the man who had been in the cage beside me all those months before.

"Best get up, kid, no point lying in the snow half dressed."

I frowned then and looked at myself. "Wouldn't want to invite anything" I wheeze as I looked at my pants.

He smiled slightly and reached a hand towards me. I eyed it, the calluses that lined his palm before placing my own in his and he heaved me upwards.

We didn't give names, but as he moved away from me once he finished making sure I was fine, I found myself following him.

At first he ignored my steps that matched his own, never turning to acknowledge me until we turned the corner to old China Town and sighed, stopped and looked at me.

"Creeps me out you following behind me like that" I shrank back from his heavy voice. "Walk beside me like a damn normal person."

That night, as I slept beside Emmett in the ancient storage room of a restaurant that still smelled of cumin and curry, he asked me if I was alright.

And I told him that to let things like that shape who I am is to loose who I was meant to be.

He had laughed at me then, but I think that he must have understood.

xxx

Taking the steps two at a time I shout to Mr. G that I'll talk to him tomorrow, receiving nothing but a grunt before pushing open the door and walking across the slush filled foyer.

Pressing through the early morning crowds, I turn the block and head away from the centre of the island and back through the twisting roads.

Panic's pull at my throat as I move above ground towards the harbour, sharp fears tugging at the desire to turn to the left and down the subway steps.

Shaking my head, I remind myself that to take the tunnels would result in getting very lost within the dark passages.

And a vulnerability to the dangers that lurk within the shadows, that smell of decaying flesh.

Narrowing my eyes as people pass me, I tuck my head down against the rain and move down the alleys, jumping the long since turned over trash cans and dodging the rotting smells that waft through the rain.

I avoid the block where we had spent the last six months living and circle wide around to the edge of the old meat packing district, walking quickly towards the harbour. Grimacing as the smell of salt and rotting wood meet me.

Sliding the door to the side, I pull myself through the gap and wave at the two men who sit against the wall, their eyes on the small fire that licks up the salt stained wood creating weaving green flames.

"That can't be dry" I nod to the wood and Emmett grunts.

"Bitch to start" he murmurs.

"Everything go okay?" asks Edward as he looks up at me as I shake at the wet sleeves of my coat.

"Fine" I mutter and crouch in front of my bag. Unzipping my coat, I shrug it off as shivers run through my body, the cold air traveling along the skin beneath the fabric of my long sleeved shirt and raising goose bumps. Tucking my books inside, I pull out a size to big black sweater I had traded for almost a year ago and tug it over my head before slipping my arms back inside my coat and moving to sit around the fire.

I look at the two men across from me, their heads bent towards the flames. "We can't stay here, we won't survive the week" I say and Emmett snorts.

"And here I thought we were living the good life."

"Not the time Emmett" I mutter, stretching my fingers to work the ache from my bones.

"You know, there is always—"

"No" I snap, cutting him off. "Absolutely not."

"Why are we avoiding this Bella, you know just as well as I do that we're going to need to go there eventually" says Emmett, resting his chin in his hands.

"Emmett" I say, rubbing my hands along my face. "We can't. You know just as well as I do, if we go, it won't be free, it never is."

"You said it yourself Bella, we won't last a week in this shit hole, what other choice do we have?"

"There's always a choice" I snap.

"Go where?" asks Edward, his eyes following our conversation.

"To a friend's" says Emmett.

Edward looks at me "A friends?"

"We're not friends" I retort, curling my fingers into fists.

"Someone I know from the beginning" says Emmett "helped me learn the ropes when I was new."

"So he's safe?" asks Edward and Emmett snorts making Edward frown "What?"

"'He's' a 'she'" I mutter and narrow my eyes at Emmett. "And I don't want to fucking ask for her damn help."

"Come on Bell, Tan's not a bad person."

"She tried to sell me!" I shout at him.

"But the point is she didn't" says Emmett, pressing his lips together against a smile.

"Don't defend that bitch!" I yell at him "she tied me to a post and held an auction!"

Emmett shakes his head and looks at Edward "She's overreacting, it wasn't an auction and everything worked out in the end."

"Because I broke her nose" I remind him.

"So really" he says "you guys are even."

"Do you even hear yourself talk sometimes? I swear you just open your mouth and let the shit pour out."

"You wound me" laughs Emmett and nudges Edward's shoulder "You'll like Tan, she's…talented."

"She's a hooker" I grumble "of course she's fucking talented, who knows how many dicks she's sucked."

"Such harsh words" chuckles Emmett "really Bella, tell us how you actually feel."

"I actually dislike you very much right now" I mutter, folding my arms over my chest.

Edward clears his throat, shifting his legs out in front of him "Where else could we go then?"

I shake my head I moan "I don't know."

"She could help us Bella" says Emmett "you know she could."

Groaning, I rub at my tired eyes, trying to think of another place we could go but finding nothing.

"Fine" I mutter "we'll go see her, but if she ties me to anything I'm breaking her neck."

xxx

The day I met Tanya I had been wearing clothes I had stolen from a dead body.

I smelt of soot, rot and unwashed human. My hair was matted and the cuts on my knees had begun to pus.

I walked with a limp and Emmett had to wind his arm around me to keep me up right.

It had only been days before that our little home inside the restaurant was raided and I was held at knife point.

It had been pure luck that Emmett had thought of storing the things we held most dear to us inside the wall in the building next door. A picture of his wife and his wedding band had been thrust deep into the hole behind the old deep fryer along with my notebook and small pocket knife.

Left with nothing, there wasn't much of an option anymore.

Tanya had everything you could need to survive on the island.

Her occupation, being something you can conduct anywhere, brought in a lot of supplies.

Small bottles of antiseptics that had stopped coming through the gates a year before.

Various sizes of clothing from various bodies that no longer breathed.

Canned fruits and vegetables that had come to be a luxury.

Small stubs of wax and matches.

Ancient linens and molding sleeping bags.

Lucky for her, she ran a good business, and no one fucked with her.

Tanya lives in a crumbling brick building that had once over looked the park. Big bay windows now crusted with filth filter light into the open apartment.

No furniture was left behind when the city was evacuated and the bathroom pipes no longer hold water. Warped shelves line the wall farthest from the door. The middles dipping under the weight of everything she has piled on them.

A stained mattress lies in the middle of the old living room. Musty smelling blankets strewn across the yellowing surface lie in constant disarray.

An ancient metal oil drum sits in the middle of the old kitchen producing a warm glow that smells faintly of burning hair and car exhaust.

Walking up the stairs I glare at Emmett's back, my fingers tightening along the rail as we pass the floor beneath her home.

"You okay?" asks Edward behind me and I wave him off.

"Fine."

"Bella's just being paranoid" says Emmett over his shoulder before nodding to the door as we pass "auction house."

"Excuse me for being a tad jumpy after a person tried to sell me to the highest bidder here" I snarl as I follow him up onto the landing above the auction house.

Emmett shakes his head and holds the door as we pass into the hallway and make our way to the door at the end.

Emmett knocks and steps away slightly so she can see his face in the peep hole.

Beyond the door I can hear curses before the sound of feet as someone makes their way to the door.

Shadows fill the space between the floor and door as they look out at us before clicking the multiple locks that line the seam of the door and pulling it open.

Tanya stands at the threshold in nothing but a large stained t-shirt that reaches past her knobby knees. Tangled blond hair frames her hollowed face is fury of unwashed knots.

Sharp elbows snap as she crosses her arms over her chest and looks at us with coal rimmed eyes.

"Emmett" she rasps, her voice hoarse.

"Tan" he greets and reaches over to hug her, her arms unfolding and wrapping around his broad shoulders.

They pull back and Emmett turns to introduce Edward, who holds out his hand and shakes the yellow fingers of her hand as her eyes follow the line of his body before pulling back up and smiling, showing off sordid teeth.

"A pleasure" she all but purrs.

He nods and smiles at her before pulling his hand away and looking down at me.

Tanya's lips curl as she follows his eyes "well, well, look what the Carns threw back up" she sneers.

"Hey Tan, I see the nose healed well" I glare at her, folding my arms across my chest. "Not that it's much of an improvement."

Turning away from me, her foot slaps against the ground "Emmett, you better had a good reason for being here with her" she snaps at him her glare matching my own.

Chuckling, Emmett drops a hand on my shoulder and pushes me behind him "Come on, Tan, you know how she can be, just ignore her."

"That would be like ignoring the plague" she grumbles and I lurch towards her, stopping short as Emmett's hand clamps down on my shoulder.

"That's rich coming from a disease ridden whore like yourself" I snarl tugging against Emmett's grip.

"Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?" she spits, her eyes running down my skinny body and baggy clothes "at least I get laid."

"Go to hell" I hiss.

"Alright, ladies, that's enough for now" laughs Emmett and pushes me back again. "It would seem we have found ourselves in a situation."

"And you need my help" she sneers.

"We need your help" he nods confirming.

Looking at me her lips curl over her teeth "My prices seem to have gone up suddenly."

Emmett sighs, "Come on, Tan, it's me, you know I wouldn't be asking if I didn't have any another option" he says, his hand coming up to rest on her shoulder. "For old times' sake?" he asks.

Tapping her chewed nails against her arm she eyes the two men who stand in front of me before purses her lips. "I want him" she nods to Edward. "That's my price."

"No fucking way" I snap "go find some lowlife to spread your legs for if you're hard up."

"It's him, or no deal" she smiles at Edward before looking at Emmett "It'll be worth it, I've got new stuff."

"Um, I think there's been a misunderstanding" says Edward; clearing his throat "I'm uh, not for sale?" he ends it like a question, his eyes still wide.

Tanya's smile broadens "He's new" she licks her cracked lips "that's even better."

Emmett shakes his head "We aren't doing this Tan, pick something else. You know I don't deal in people."

Shaking her head, she tightens her arms around her chest "There isn't anything else, pay it or get the fuck out of my face."

Pushing past Emmett I stalk towards Tanya, my arm pulled back, and fist curling.

When my skin meets hers the sound of bone crunching makes my stomach twist before pain laces up my fist and curls around my wrist.

Tanya's screams fill my ears as Emmet wraps an arm around my waist and hauls me up and away from her lunging body.

Shaking my hand out, Tanya clutches my nose, blood staining her fingers as it drips away from the crooked bone while her knees crack against the hallway floor.

"You bitch!" she screams as Emmett walks me away, Edward in front of us. "I'll kill you!"

I raise my throbbing hand and flip her off.

"What a whore" I mutter as the door to the stairs slams behind us.


a/n: hope you liked it!

Let me know :]

Massive hugs and peace to all.