Sisterly Love

Me: Hey everybody. This is a new fic I just started recently.
Shi: Well duh.
Me: Shut up. Anyway, I won't say much now, just that I don't own 'The Fast and the Furious' or anything related, but I do own any characters you don't recognize from the movie. And I own the plot!

Prologue
Isabelle

A girl of sixteen sat in a darkened room with a boy a year older than her seated alongside her. The to were watching an action movie and she was fairly into it – although she jumped quite a bit and did release a squeal once in a while. He just grinned when she did this, and gave her a hug and a squeeze of her hand – they'd only just gotten past the 'friends' stage, so they weren't that intimate yet.

She was quite pretty – she had brown hair that turned almost a deep cinnamon color when the Sun shone on it at the right angle. It went just passed her shoulder blades, and her bangs were just beginning to once again descend upon her deep, mysterious blue eyes after being cropped to the lower quarter of her forehead only a little while ago. She wasn't quite that 'well developed' for her age, but – as she could beat up anybody who picked on her – nobody teased her about it. At the moment she wore a pair of loose jeans and a navy blue hoodie (under which was a tank top whose straps were visible from the stretched neckline of the hooded shirt), which added to why those at school labeled her a punk.

The male was blonde, and his wavy hair extended down to his jawbone. His chocolate brown eyes kept switching between the television screen and the beautiful girl at his side, whom he was very happy – and grateful – to have.

She suddenly moved closer to him and allowed him to put his arm around her shoulders. The girl caught her breath, gripping his free hand in a jerky motion when something on the screen startled her. "I'm sorry, Damien, I really am, for being so jumpy."

The male stroked her arm gently with the one lying across her shoulder, and with his other hand gave her own an affectionate, reassuring squeeze. "That's fine, don't worry about it. It's no problem, Isabelle," he said.

A smile on her face, she thanked him and nestled her head into his shoulder. Just as the action began to intensify in the movie, things began to heat up off-screen as well. Isabelle noticed lights outside and a weird feeling coursed through her veins; she wasn't quite sure what it was, but it caused her body to go rigid for a moment.

Her boyfriend noticed her tense up and spotted the lights outside, but thought nothing of it. "Just the neighbors," he excused it as, turning back to the movie. When she relaxed and settled herself in, her took her face in his hand and looked deep into her blue eyes before kissing her on the lips. The world seemed to stop for a minute, even when the door swung open and footsteps were heard. Damien dismissed this as his brother coming home, probably too drunk to know his own name, as was often the case. That was, until his ladylove was ripped from his very hands.

Isabelle yelped as familiar, rough, callused hands gripped her arms and threw her to the carpeted floor. The first words she called out when she looked up at the assailant were, "Daddy, don't, please!" But she knew that wouldn't stop him – although, to her surprise and horror, he started beating on Damien.

"Sir, get out of my house, please," were the words the boy uttered before receiving his first smack in the mouth. One didn't seem to be enough, though, as the tall, burly man continued to assault him, despite his daughter's constant pleas for him to desist. Damien attempted to defend himself, even fight the adult, but to no avail.

The female jumped up and grabbed the hand that was about to strike her boyfriend, but unfortunately he reacted quickly by wrenching his hand from hers and slapped her with the back of his hand, so that she fell back onto the floor. Turning back to the boy, he spat, "You rotten little punk! Don't you ever touch my little girl! Ever!"

Isabelle really didn't want to, but she grabbed her sneakers from the front porch and Damien's cell phone from the mantelpiece and went outside, dialing the police department as she ran. After relaying the situation and their location to them, she went back inside the house and screamed, noticing blood on the cream-colored carpet, and her father standing over Damien (who was still stubbornly trying to defend himself), beating on him. Gathering all her courage, she leapt onto her daddy's back and tried to make him stop – that was when the siren's came within earshot. Everybody froze – the adult looked livid, the daughter fearful, and the boyfriend relieved, yet bloody, and about to pass out.

"You brat!" the father hollered, detaching his daughter from his back and dealing her a handful of powerful punches to the abdomen as he held her against the wall. "How dare you call the fucking cops on me? On your father!"

Before she could respond two policemen burst onto the scene and immediately aimed their guns at the man. "Daddy, I'm sorry! Really I am! Very truly sorry! But please forgive me, Father, I had to. And don't try to resist them, it'll only be worse in the long run," she tried to reason with him. But there was certainly no trace of paternal feeling remaining in him, as he took her throat and help her up in the air, her back facing the officers, and punched her a couple more times with his free hand, and then his her once in the face.

A tear streaked down her cheek. 'Why does he have to be like this?' she asked herself as she closed her eyes, waiting for it to be over. She felt his hand releasing her and throwing her to the wall, and when she opened her eyes he had started towards Damien again, fists ready to dance. He started to pound on him again, and instinctively she yelled, "Daddy, stop it, please! It's over!"

The police officers moved in on Isabelle's dad, while she sat in the corner, knees curled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. One of the cops slammed him to the ground and kept a pistol to his temple while the other kept a knee in his back to keep him from moving and handcuffed him. The medics stormed in then, carrying a stretcher with them onto which they loaded Damien. Another paramedic walked over to her, but she pushed him away and watched her father being dragged off by the policemen, and he was glaring at her. She knew, she just knew, that her dad wouldn't forget her until he'd gotten his revenge. And if he got out on bail, she was screwed.

Me: Hope you liked it. I know it's kinda short, but it's only a prologue. Please review if ya have time!

Shi: And don't be to hard on her, it's her first F&F story. And she's a whiner as well. It's really annoying.

Me: Hey! Anyway, I'll try to have the next chapter up soon. Bye!