A/N: I'd like to say a huge thanks to everyone who have taken time to leave me a review so far. I appreciate every single one.
I've recently gotten a Twitter account. If anyone wants to follow me, my user name over there is NillaSwan.
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EPOV
I was huddling in the corner of my room, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out as the blows kept hitting me. I knew he wanted to get a reaction out of me, just so he would have a reason to keep punishing me. Finally he took a step back, and I held my breath, not daring to hope it was already over."Do you know why I'm doing this?" I looked up, shuddering at the dark expression on James' face. Was I suppose to answer? I could never be sure of what he wanted from me; he kept changing the rules every time. Now he raised his fist in a threatening manner, but didn't strike. Instead he just repeated his question, calmly, like he was talking about the weather; "Do you know why I'm doing this?"Right. Answering, then. I just nodded, then gasped as the fist hit me hard in the face. James leaned closer, and I swallowed when I realized that the wall prevented me from pulling away. His face turned smug. "I want to hear you say it. Why am I doing this?"I inhaled, shakily. "Because I've been bad.""That's right." James looked pleased, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "You have been bad, so I have no choice but to punish you. I have to make sure you know your place. Do you understand?" I nodded, then remembered what happened the last time I didn't give him the answer he wanted. "Yes.""Very good." James sounded almost friendly. In the next moment, the smile was gone and his face cold as ice. "Now, get up and move over to the bed."My mouth went dry, and I felt a huge lump in my throat as I stared at him. Then I shook my head, pleadingly. "No…"James' eyes narrowed, dangerously. "What did you just say?"Swallowing, I forced myself to look him right in the eyes. "No. Please, I don't want-" Another blow caused my head to snap back and hit the wall behind me, and a wave of dizziness came over me. Although my vision had become slightly blurred, I could still see the furious expression on my stepfather's face."You don't get to speak unless I say so, is that clear?!" He didn't bother to wait for an answer as he went on; "I said, get over to the bed." Suddenly the man looked over his shoulder, speaking quietly to someone in the doorway; "Go back downstairs, Elizabeth. I'll be there as soon as I'm finished here."I looked up, silently begging my mother to stay. I knew she had to be aware of what her husband was doing almost every night, before he went to bed with her. A part of me wished that she would be oblivious; her knowing only made me feel worse. Because it proved that what James said was true; I did deserve this. Otherwise, my mother would never allow it. I closed my eyes for a moment, not wanting to watch her turn around and leave. When I opened my eyes again, the doorway was empty.
I woke with a start, gasping as I sat up straight in the bed, my eyes darting wildly around the room. It took a couple of minutes for my brain to register that I was safe, that it had just been a bad dream. For a moment, I had been back in my room in Chicago, reliving my worst nightmare all over again.
Over the years, I had gotten used to the nightmares haunting me almost every night, but that didn't make it any easier. Angrily wiping at my face, I waited for my heart to slow down and to go back to beating like normal. Then I got up on wobbly legs and slowly made my way over to the door, listening closely for any sign of life on the other side.
But, much to my relief, the house was seemingly quiet. Sometimes when I got downstairs in the morning, Carlisle used to look at me with a sympathetic expression on his face, and I knew he must have heard me, moaning and trashing in bed during the night.
I fucking hated when he looked at me like that.
Knowing from experience that I wouldn't get any more sleep tonight, I quietly opened the door, hesitated in the doorway to listen again, before finally hurrying across the hallway and down the stairs. Once I got down, I slumped down on the couch in the living room, and let out the breath I had been holding.
I found the remote to the TV, turned it on, and immediately switched it to mute. Then I tried to force myself to focus on some bad horror movie (I had never seen it before and was unfamiliar with the title), anything to keep my mind from wandering.
Suddenly I heard a noise, and instantly tensed up. Bella was standing at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes wide, and judging by the look on her face, she was just as startled by my presence as I had been by hers. She took a hesitant step forward, then stopped, obviously not sure of what to do.
"Woke you, did I?" I muttered, too embarrassed to even try to cover up the hostility in my voice.
She sounded surprised when she responded, her voice trembling slightly, "No, I..." Her hand gripped at the railing of the stairs. "I just couldn't sleep, so I thought..." She lowered her eyes to the floor. "Never mind, I'll just head back upstairs. I didn't mean to bother you."
For some reason, her words made me panic, and I realized that I didn't want her to leave. I noted with relief that she seemed to have recovered from whatever it was that had caused her to freak out before. "It's okay," I mumbled, praying that she wouldn't hear the desperation in my voice. "I can't sleep, either. You can stay if you want."
Clearly, the nightmare must have damaged my brain.
"Um, okay. Thanks." Bella sounded a little uncertain, but slowly walked over to the couch and sat down, after a brief moment's hesitation, thankfully as far away from me as possible. She glanced at me when I didn't make any immediate attempt to start a conversation. "So, what are you watching?"
"Huh?" I frowned, then turned my attention to the TV screen. A blonde, hysterical bimbo was being chased by a tall fucker wearing a hockey mask and carrying an axe. I shrugged. "Not a fucking clue."
Bella nodded in acceptance, then took a deep breath. "Listen, I'm sorry about what happened before."
Forgetting to be on my guard, I turned to give her an incredulous look. "What?"
She blushed, and I could tell that she was having a hard time getting the words out. I could relate to that. "Earlier, in the kitchen. When I..." Her voice trailed off, and she didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to, though, I knew what she was referring to. But what I didn't understand was why she was apologizing.
"What the hell are you sorry for?" The words were out of my mouth before I realized I had spoken, and my voice was only slightly softer as I went on, "Look, I'm not quite sure what I did, but-"
"No." Bella cut me off, nervously wringing her hands. "Whatever Rosalie may have said, it wasn't your fault. I just..." She swallowed. "I get really bad headaches sometimes. It's... The doctors can't seem to find any physical explanation, so I guess..." A strange sound escaped her, and I couldn't tell whether it was a laugh or a sob. "I guess it's all in my head. Literally." She rolled her eyes.
I sighed. "You don't have to tell me this. It's none of my fucking business."
"It's okay, I don't..." She stopped herself, quickly averting her eyes. "I mean, you probably don't wanna hear about my petty problems. Forget I said anything."
And I was back to feeling like a jerk. Why couldn't I just do something right for a change?
"You can tell me if you want," I heard myself say. "I don't mind." And I realized that I actually meant it. Although I had to admit, my motives weren't completely selfless. I had come to find that listening to Bella's voice provided a much welcoming distraction from my own 'petty problems'.
Bella was quiet for a moment. "Are you sure?" I just nodded, suddenly not trusting my voice. She watched me, obviously trying to decide whether or not I was being sincere. Then she nodded as well, and I figured I must have passed the test. "All right. I used to live in Phoenix, with my mom and her husband."
"How come you moved to Forks?" I asked.
I knew I should just let her tell me the story at her own pace, but I couldn't help myself; I was curious. And, to be honest, I wanted our conversation to last as long as possible. It was a strange feeling, seeing how I never enjoyed talking to other people. But, for some reason, I was starting to wonder if Bella may be different than most people. Somehow, I got the feeling she was.
I just didn't know if that was a good thing or not.
BPOV
When I saw Edward sitting on the couch, my instinct told me to turn around and run back upstairs. But I hesitated. As much as I was still beyond embarrassed about what happened in the kitchen, a part of me couldn't stand the thought of him actually believing Rosalie and think he had anything to do with my breakdown.
And then he told me I could stay. Although he sounded nonchalant enough, like he didn't really care, there was something in his voice that made me suspect otherwise. As I took a closer look at his face, the feeling became even stronger. He was paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes, and I realized he hadn't been joking when he told me he couldn't sleep.
He looked as if he hadn't slept for a week.
My thoughts went back to Alice, and her words about Edward not being a bad person. She didn't say it out loud, but I wasn't stupid. Something must have happened to him, something bad, and that was why he had come to live with the Cullen's when he was eleven years old. That was six years ago, and he obviously still didn't trust other people enough to let them into his life.
"I once overheard Dad telling Mom that Edward was one of the worst cases he'd ever seen. And he's seen a lot."
I still couldn't be sure about the exact meaning behind those words, but I had my suspicions, and it made me feel sick to my stomach. Someone must have hurt him, badly, otherwise Edward wouldn't have ended up at the hospital with Carlisle. No, the question wasn't whether or not he had been hurt in the past; the question was how.
And a part of me was terrified of finding out.
As I hesitantly made my way over to the couch and sat down, making sure to put some distance between Edward and me, I waited for him to say something more. But he remained quiet, absently looking straight ahead, and I suddenly couldn't take the silence any longer. So I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind, "So, what are you watching?"
"Huh?" Edward looked confused for a moment, then turned to look at the TV. Finally he shrugged. "Not a fucking clue," he admitted.
Okay, gotta find something else to talk about, then. Think, Bella!
I desperately searched my mind, but came up with nothing. So I took a deep breath. "Listen, I'm sorry about what happened before."
That got his attention. He stared at me. "What?"
Great! He was going to make me say it. I could feel my cheeks turning red. "Earlier, in the kitchen. When I..." I lowered my eyes.
"What the hell are you sorry for?" He sounded angry, and I swallowed. Then he continued, his voice a little calmer, but still cold, "Look, I'm not quite sure what I did, but-"
That was when I interrupted him and told him the truth; that what happened didn't have anything to do with him. When he spoke again, I realized I must have been babbling, because he sounded bored. "You don't have to tell me this. It's none of my fucking business."
Of course he wouldn't want to listen to my sob story. I felt the tears burning behind my eyelids. Edward must have seen the hurt look on my face, because his voice softened and he hurried to add, "You can tell me if you want. I don't mind."
I really didn't need any pity from him, and I was just about to tell him so, when I realized that he was actually making an effort here. According to Alice, Edward didn't talk to other people. But here he was, offering to listen. Pity or not, how could I possibly turn him down?
So, I opened my mouth, and started, "All right. I used to live in Phoenix, with my mom and her husband."
"How come you moved to Forks?" he asked. It sounded like he actually wanted to know.
And just like before, telling Edward about what happened felt completely natural. I only prayed that the effect of the painkillers hadn't worn off; the last thing I wanted was for Edward to have to witness another one of my crazy episodes.
"Well," I began, tentatively. "Something happened, and I just couldn't stay." Edward didn't say anything, just waited for me to go on. I sighed. "My mom. She died." There; I'd said it. No blinding pain, at least not so far.
"Oh." Edward sounded a little uncomfortable, like he didn't know what to say. I could feel his eyes on me as he was trying to find the words. "I'm sorry."
"Thanks." I shrugged. This was the reaction I normally got when I told people about my mom. Awkwardness and forced sympathy. I wasn't sure which one I disliked the most. Taking an unsteady breath, I continued, "When I got home from school one day, there was an ambulance in the driveway. I rushed inside..."
I flew through the front door, unable to keep the panic out of my voice, 'Mom! Phil! Where are you? What's with the ambulance?!''Bella?' Phil's ragged voice, coming from the living room. 'Don't come in here, Bella, stay where you are!'Of course, I ignored his words and barged into the room. I would spend the rest of my life wishing I had just listened to him. Because the sight that met me would haunt me forever. Two paramedics were crouching over my mother's lifeless body. One of them stood up, and walked over to a stretcher. I turned towards Phil, staring at him with my mouth hanging open in shock. He looked at me, and I could see traces of tears on his face.I heard a strange sound, and turned back to the paramedic by the stretcher. He had just rolled out a large, black body bag. A whimper escaped my throat. 'Mom?'
My bottom lip was trembling when I had finished talking, but my eyes were dry. I wouldn't, couldn't, cry in front of Edward Cullen again. When I finally dared to throw a look in his direction, I noticed that he had scooted closer to me on the couch. His left hand was hovering above my arm, like he had been about to offer me some comfort.
Then I could see him tense up, and he quickly pulled back his hand. Suddenly I wanted to weep more than ever. I couldn't explain why I felt this way, but all of the sudden, it was like my entire body was aching for him to touch me, whether he was pitying me or not. I couldn't let him know what I was thinking, though, so I took a deep breath and silently counted to ten, avoiding to look at him again.
I got the disturbing feeling that if he looked into my eyes, he would see directly into my soul. And I doubted neither of us would be ready for that.
"Um, Bella?" I froze at the sound of Edward's voice, having not expected him to speak. Glancing at him, I gave him a questioning look, silently giving him permission to go on. He hesitated for a moment. "What happened to your arm?"
I grimaced, but figured that since I had already revealed this much, I might as well tell him the rest. "It was Phil. My stepdad. He..." My voice trailed off as I heard Edward let out a soft gasp. I looked at him, and saw that he was staring at me in horror. His already pale face was now white as a sheet.
"Edward?" His reaction was making me more than a little anxious, and I couldn't help but shiver. He looked as if he had just seen a ghost. I gulped, nervously. "What's wrong?"
But he wasn't looking at me anymore. In fact, I suspected he was no longer aware of my presence at all. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was clenching his fists, mumbling something over and over again as he kept shaking his head. I leaned a little closer, and finally managed to make out the words; "God, not her, too. Not her, not her, not her..."
