Hello again! I uploaded this chapter way quicker than I thought I would! I thought that it would take at least a month before I would share this with all of you, but it seems I got a little excited about writing and TA-DAA! It's ready! :)
So about this chapter; This is a very short version of the six years Bella had to endure with James. I didn't want to write about the six years, but at the same time did, so I decided to make a compromise with myself and wrote about it shortly :) Yey, me!
HERE IS THE WARNING: This chapter is almost purely ONLY phychical or physical violence. I wasn't very graphic about the scenes, but they are there non-the-less. You have been warned!
Disclamer: I only own the plot and Donna. Everything else belongs to Meyer.
4: I'm so sorry, daddy
Dear diary,
Here I will present you bits of my wonderful life;
Donna and I have lived with James for six years already. These six years have been like hell, for both me and Donna. Firstly, I will explain to you about Donna, before I go to my own life.
Donna was one and half years old when we moved here. She was obedient and loyal, but only to me. James used my hard work on Donna and made me train her to help me kill people. And even though I put resistance at first, I did as James told me to. I taught Donna to scare, injure and kill people at my command. And also that she will not listen to anyone but me. If someone else would dare to command her, she would either ignore them, or injure them.
Donna was a big and scary looking dog for most people. She also had a lot of endurance, because leonbergers were originally draft dogs and guard dogs. On most of my missions, I took Donna with me. And she did help me. She killed people if my hands were full, and she brought back the people that tried to escape. So yeah, she did help me. But was I happy about it? No.
I know I wanted Donna here with me at first, but that was when I didn't know what James had in store for her. Now I wished that she would have gone to a different home… If I didn't want a dog at first place, maybe Donna wouldn't be in a situation like this. I blamed myself fully for what was happening to me and her.
I ruined Donna's life.
And then about me;
Muscle training began immediately, because even if I could kill at the end of James' 'lessons', they meant nothing, if I wasn't able to use strength. The 'lessons' James had in store for me from the minute I got inside his house, were very unpleasant and painful… One of those was to keep my guard up. He made a lot of surprise attacks against me and I needed to be able to either block or dodge those attacks. Otherwise, I would end up being heavily bruised.
And then was the time when James bought a lot of dolls one day, without me understanding why. I got my answer when sometimes he took one of the dolls, put it behind me, and made it make sounds. I had to 'kill' the doll as fast as I could. If I wasn't fast enough in James' opinion, I would get a very painful electric shock, so painful that I fell to the floor and couldn't move for a few seconds. The best part was that, as usual, James didn't explain the lesson in any kind of way. I had to figure it all by myself, which means that the first three times I had no idea why I was being punished.
And the dolls were everywhere… They screamed when I was asleep, when I was going outside, when I was in the shower or in the toilet, when I cooked… They were literally everywhere. From this 'lesson', James made my body react to loud or strange voices, by 'killing' them, without any questions asked. It was a reflex now, not a willingly made decision.
And this was just one of the many 'lessons' I had to endure.
Another 'lesson' was pain endurance. James needed me to be able to handle a lot of pain, so he tortured me regularly. He gave me enough time to recover my last torture session, but when I was walking again, another session began. I would give me powerful electric shocks, beat me up, drown me until I lost conciseness, cut me deeply on every part of my body and so on… The sessions have continued for my whole life with James, six years. He doesn't have the sessions so much anymore, maybe once a month. I have scars on every single part of my body, except face. James always left my face alone.
James also wanted me to get rid of 'useless' emotion, such as shame. For example, I had to be able to be naked in front of people without being bothered by it. Why? Because there was a high chance that I would get caught sometimes when I was out doing my 'work'. Being caught was never a good thing in this business, because the ones that caught me will do all kinds of things to get information out of me. In other words, rape and torture were very plausible options.
So to succeed in getting me get rid of shame, James often watched me shower, and put cameras in every place of the house. There was no 'blind spot' in the house, nor privacy in the life I had with James.
And of course, he also had me walking naked in the house. Actually, I still had to do it. When I woke up in the morning, James would just announce that today, I couldn't have any clothes on. The days weren't marked or anything. They could be any day of the week, and the 'naked period' could last weeks. I had no way of knowing when the days were, so I had no time to mentally prepare myself.
I found all of that disgusting. I first thought that it was just James' 'hobby', watching young girls naked. But then I actually noticed that it worked. Because the first time I had to do it, I was all awkward. I tried to cover myself, which was often rewarded with a punch. So shame brought pain. If I wanted to get rid of the pain, I had to get rid of the shame. And I did.
Then James brought 'friends' to his house. Again, no warning. He told me to undress myself completely in front of his friends. He needed to see that my 'lack of shame' wasn't just for him. Well, it was. When I tried getting naked in front of all of them, I noticed that I couldn't do it. I got beaten up.
This happened about six times. James brought friends, I had to get naked and then got beaten up because I wasn't acting naturally enough. It was around seventh or eighth time when the 'mission' was success. I got naked in front of them all and could act naturally. James congratulated himself, for training me well.
I wasn't celebrating thought. I knew that if I was able to be naked in front of middle-aged guys I didn't know, something was wrong with me. This simple 'success' only reminded me how fucked up my life was.
I also lost my virginity at the age of 13. It was said to be 'necessary'. I remember that day too well. It was 23.12. Christmas Eve would be the day after. I was excited, even though I knew that we wouldn't celebrate it in any way, but James told me that on that day, he would leave me completely alone. It would have been my only 'free day' of the year. Maybe that was the reason that he picked up 23.12…
I was coming off the shower when James barged in the bathroom. I didn't think much of it because he had done it before. I wasn't allowed to react in any way when James came near me, so I learned to 'detect' his presence through the voice of his steps and breathe. Then James came right to me and grabbed me by my throat. I didn't fight back, because even if I didn't know why and what James was precisely doing, I knew that it would only become worse, if I fought back.
Then James told me that he needed me to get rid of my virginity. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I was terrified and I finally began to fight back. He punched me hard on my stomach so all air left my lungs and I couldn't breathe or move well. Then he said: "Don't worry, I won't take it myself. I hired a few people to do it for me. I don't really find raping kids enjoyable".
I was shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind when James dragged me out of the bathroom by my hair. There were three big guys in the living room. I knew that they were the guys that James hired. I didn't make a sound when James threw me to the guys, saying that they could do anything they wanted, as long as I wasn't majorly injured or killed. I closed my eyes and began to pray that it would be over quickly.
James left and the guys began to talk about how surprisingly beautiful I was and who would get to have me first. The guy named Laurent was 'given permission' to rape me first. I didn't catch the other guys' names. Not that I wanted to; I knew they would be forever craved in my mind, like 'Laurent' was.
I tried not to think what they were doing to me, but I found it hard when they touched my body, and finally broke through my hymen. I didn't scream, I didn't struggle and I certainly did not fight back. I just let them do what they wanted to do, hoping that it wasn't much and that it would end soon.
All guys took turns to rape me. Then they raped my ass and put their disgusting dicks in my mouth. They came in my mouth and made me swallow it. Do not cry, do not cry, do not cry… I chanted in my head almost the whole time. And I didn't cry even a single tear.
Then they were finally done with me. They put their pants back on and left. Immediately I stood up from the floor and headed to the bathroom. Every single part of my body hurt. My body was screaming mercy, but I ignored it, because more than being hurt, I felt immensely dirty. I wanted to wash myself. Get rid of the ghost-touch that lingered in my body. When finally got to the toilet, I threw up. I clearly remembered every touch and word that was exchanged and that made me puke again.
I tried to think that this was nothing. That my sole purpose was to live and survive, and I didn't need virginity to do that. This was just one lost thing among the others, one more pain to suffer, and I was already almost gotten used to pain. I would get used to this as well. But nothing helped. Not a single thought I tried to assure me with made me feel better. I still felt just as dirty as two minutes ago, when they were still doing it.
James came to the bathroom. He didn't waste any time when he said to me: "I guess they went easy on you if you had enough strength to crawl your way back here". I glared at him, but said nothing. He watched me with amusement. I didn't expect any pity or sympathy from him, but did he really have to come here and put more salt in my wounds? Then came the wonderful announcement that gang rape will be a routine I have to undergo once a year. I could feel how all color left my face.
James laughed and left.
Other 'useless emotions' were sadness, pity and guilt. Because my 'job' was to kill people, I couldn't mourn about them. I wasn't allowed to feel guilty about killing them or be sad for their possible families. I just had to get the job done. No questions asked or emotions felt.
So at the age of 12, soon after I arrived to James' house, first James had me kill puppies. I refused, so he hit me. I still refused. I knew James did this because he knew I loved dogs. I loved all dogs, so killing them felt wrong in every kind of way. But James kept hitting me until I said yes. And I eventually did.
I still remember the first puppy I killed. It was a female Doberman, and it was beautiful. When James gave her to me, along with the knife, she looked at me with innocent eyes, licking my fingers and barking happily. The tears I promised to keep inside of me were close to falling the moment I saw her eyes. I clenched my eyes close tightly before opening them quickly.
I grabbed the puppy's neck fur tightly and pushed her to the ground. She yelped loudly, making panicking whines and trying to get out of my grasp. The only thought in my head was to kill her quickly, so she wouldn't have to suffer. I didn't know how though, so I just grasped the knife tightly in my hand and stabbed her side. She let put a loud cry and struggled under my hand.
I was horrified. She was still alive! So I stabbed her again, again, again and again, until she finally stopped moving. I looked at the puppy and then the knife I had in my hand. I let go of the knife and it dropped on the floor, next to the Dobermans body, with a loud clang. My hands were red with blood and James just smiled, leaning against the door. At that moment I was in too much of a shock to even cry, because I just killed a creature I loved more than anything, a dog.
James kept bringing puppies after that. After the fourth 'kill', I understood that I will only feel worse if I think about it too much. I stopped thinking. I just took the knife, killed the dog and moved on. I didn't stop to look what breed the dog was, was it girl or a boy or was it happy. It didn't matter. I had to kill it anyway.
One year later after my first 'puppy kill', James brought a crying baby and its mom to me. I didn't even have to ask what I needed to do… James wanted me to kill them. James wanted me to kill the baby in front of its mother and then move to the mother. It was one thing to kill puppies, but babies? That was just a whole new level. They were both creatures that couldn't defend themselves. Why kill them, of all creatures in the world? The answer was easy; if I could kill them, there was no question that I would be able to kill adults, who all have sinned in one way.
The crying baby's mother kept begging for me to spare her child, to kill her instead, but to leave the baby alone. Shutting my emotions was a harder task now when the mother kept begging nonstop and the baby kept crying. I wanted to tell her that I wanted to spare both of them, but it wasn't up to me, it was up to James.
So I did what I always did. I first killed the baby, slitting its throat with a knife, and the shot the mother. But my emotions weren't shut. I felt guilt, sadness, anger and I definitely mourned. So James kept bringing me puppies, babies and mothers until he saw that I killed every emotion that would hinder my 'work'. That happened when I was 14, when began my fighting training.
My period started when I was about to turn 16. I was a so called late bloomer, probably because of all the stress my body and mind went through thanks to James' training sessions. I hid the fact that my period started from James. I didn't want him to know, and even if I did want him to know, I didn't really know how to tell him.
The hiding this was a success. I bled daily because James beat me up, cut me with a knife or trained me until I bled, so even if there was blood on the floor or my bed, he didn't think much of it. He just told me to clean it. And I guess the thought of me being a girl never hit him, so he didn't even think that I will someday have my period. Or he was sure that I would tell him when they started, which I didn't.
Then came my fourth yearly 'gang rape'. There were four guys this time, all different guys from the last two times. They all did the same disgusting things, but I had already learned killed my emotions so far that I didn't even feel the urge to cry. I understood already at the second time that this was something that I could not control. So I let it happen without putting a fight. I was so dead inside that I just didn't think much of this anymore. It ends faster, if the guys feel like their having sex with a corpse.
I ran to washroom after they left and washed myself thoroughly, scrubbing my skin 'till every part of my body was red. Then I tried myself and went to find James in my room. It was our routine. I would be in the living rooms floor getting raped and he was in my room with a computer, watching the 'show' trough the cameras. If I did well, he would leave me be, but if I did badly he would cut me on my back. And this time I did well, because he took his computer and left quietly without saying a word.
A month past and I noticed that I was throwing up way more than usual. I knew that something was wrong after James started to notice it too. Then I remembered that I hadn't gotten my period for over a month. I wasn't really to blame… I was never taught anything about my own body, so even though I knew the gist of how one becomes pregnant, I didn't even consider the fact that I could very well become pregnant. I knew that this situation would force me to tell James what was going on and I had a hunch that he wasn't going to be thrilled about this…
And I was proven right. James was furious when I told him that my period had begun four months ago. He hit me so hard that I fell down and hit my head hard on the floor. I heard the door open and close, so I assumed that James went outside for God knows what reason. I shook my head, trying to clear it. My ears were ringing and head hurt because of the impact.
James came back about an hour later with a pharmacy bag on his hand. He pulled a small box out of there that read 'pregnancy test'. He gave me the box and told me to do it alone; he needed a while to he prepared something.
Maybe I should have felt suspicious, maybe I should have asked what he need time to prepare and maybe I should have known that something was wrong when he didn't make me do the test in front of him. But I was excited, so I just took the box, went to bathroom, made the test and waited for the results.
It was positive. I was pregnant.
James came to the bathroom and took the test out of my hand roughly. He took a look at it, grimaced and threw it in the rubbish can with a lot of strength. Then he walked towards me with heavy steps and with a dark look on his face. I knew that look, and it never meant good. James always wore that look when I was severely displeased about something I had done. It always meant that I would get punished, very badly. I was scared. Then I felt a hit in the back of my neck and everything went black.
When I woke up, I was on my bed and James was next to me. This itself was weird, because I didn't feel any pain which would tell me that I was beaten or cut when I was out. I was only feeling numb.
James turned to me with an emotionless face and told me that I would have saved myself from a lot of pain if I had just immediately when my period started. I didn't have any idea what he was talking about and he seemed to notice this too, because then he told frankly what he did to me while I was unconscious. He told me that he put me to sleep with a drug, and 'dug the baby out' he stepped otwards the door and added that I didn't need to worry about my period from this day onwards.
Then he just left the room, leaving me process everything that he just told me.
I didn't believe him. I didn't want to believe him. I already loved the baby that was growing inside me, and he just killed it. His words struck hard on me and after what seemed like forever, I finally broke down.
I started to cry, and so broke my one and only promise.
I'm so sorry, daddy…
So how was it? This has been my longest chapther so far, but yeah... It doesn't make the story any better, no matter how long the chapter...
But please give me your opnions! Do you want to read more about Bellas experiences or do you want this story to go to the romance as soon as possible?
REVIEW PLZ !