A/N:
ARTIST OF THE WEEK-
PATSY CLINE.
The song I vibed to while writing this is "I Fall To Pieces". Beautiful song about broken hearts!
Merry Christmas to all!
I believed in God and everything he stood for, and proof of his existence in my life was more than abundant. But it was times like these, in situations like my own… he was just too far away and out of my reach to see the bad things I was doing. I knew it was vice to drink alcohol, unless it was his very blood of wine, but the pale brown whiskey (aged to one hundred years) capped in a crystal bottle, was far too inviting to just pass up. Where was my savior now, as I slumped against a soft couch, my eyes bleary and a crooked step to my walk? I titled my head back and took another drink, hating the nauseous feeling in the beginning and the burning feeling at the end. It tasted like garbage and an eternity in hell; but it helped freeze the red hot burning of my problems.
I put on a smooth vinyl record, a top blues singer of my time. She only sang about betrayal and heartbreak… now my own predicament. I hummed softly to the notes I pretended to know, swaying fruitlessly in my fitted knee-length dress of black saffron- small ruffles hugged the hemline of my collared garment, which was less than quarter-sleeved. The dark red belt defined the curve of my waist and my high heeled shoes of scarlet didn't help to keep my demuirty, but it didn't matter. I loved my dresses. I loved my shoes. I loved my belts. "I love you all!" I slurred to the furniture around me. They never hurt me, they only helped me!
My tongue felt thick to even my own lips. What was I doing? I couldn't recognize the sloppy, disorientated girl staring back at me for them sitting room's large vanity. I felt at my brown hair- the pins kept the two inwardly swirled curls attached to both sides of my head, and the tucked chignon kept the ends of my hair hidden away. I always spent so much time bringing myself together. But when I drank whiskey and allowed folly tears to ruin my dark makeup… it all seemed worthless! I was a mess. I was no use- just wasted effort.
I could still feel my mother running her fingers through my tangled locks, and I could see my father hanging our stockings above the mantle of the crackling fireplace. I cried harder as I realized this would be my very first Christmas alone. Alice left a few hours ago on some errand in the city, and Edward wouldn't home until far past dark. He had a speakeasy to visit- something about some bad business or unbalanced numbers in sales, I didn't really remember. Whatever errand he was on, I was thankful for. I didn't want him to see me like this because I was pathetic and weak. For once, I wanted to be alone amidst my destruction of scruples. Why were my parents so weak? Why did my all-fearing father run scared, with his tail between his legs from men he had every right to lock up and throw away the key?
I was given to the highest bidder. What would have become of me, had they abandoned me all alone? "They didn't love me." I murmured softly, finally realizing the truth I was dodging. Charlie would have rather raised a boy that looked just like him, and my mother understood that I would never be capable of being the golden child daughter she wanted me to be. I was just this kid they were dumped on. "How could you let that happen?" I asked God but looked down at the ground. He stood for everything great and right and yet he allowed a little girl be brought up by two crooked parents, and then transitioned to a corrupt family that she would have to call her own? There was nothing great or right about that!
"God isn't so almighty after all, is he?" I froze in my dwelling state at the sound of his voice. Edward was here at the wrong moment, in the wrong situation. I didn't want him here.
I shut my eyes against the migraine beginning in my head. "Please just let me be. Leave me alone tonight." I was tired, lonely, and drunk. I didn't need him there to remind me of all the opportunities I was missing. It was hard to play dutiful housewife when we weren't even married yet. I didn't want kids, or a ring, or an overbearing husband. I didn't want any of this! I whipped around and faced him. "I hate you!" I screamed, gripping the square bottle in my hand tightly. He was leaning against the table with the record player, looking suave and oh so put together. he didn't deserve to look at me like that- like he knew everything and I wouldn't understand a lick of it even if it was spoon-fed to me! "I hate you, Edward! I hate this house that confines me like a breath-constricting suit, and I hate your family because they seem to love me for no good reason at all!" I whimpered and looked away. I hated… everyone. I hated everything, even if I was loved sweetly the entire time. "I hate this life you've given me." Edward's face was stoic as he stayed completely still. He didn't reach for the bottle in my hands as I took another drink, just let me crash into the freedom of delirium. How did he keep that emotionless face all of the time? I wasn't aware of the dirty look I was sending him until he tipped his chin up at me in a battle cry that I would have had to be deaf to not hear. My feet stumbled slightly as I walked forward, fingering my way across furniture to him in a half-hearted attempt to rid myself of clumsiness. "I hate you!"
No one liked to feel this way, and especially me. I didn't recognize myself as a hateful and angry person. "You think that you're the only one?" His nonchalant response rattled my nerves. Why wasn't he affected one little bit by my awful words? Edward needed to feel something, he needed to feel the way I felt!
"Ha- you love this lifestyle! You were born a killer and you'll die a killer! It's your only talent, and just one of your many curses." I hissed angrily, so near to his flawless face. Why was he so beautiful? Why was he so perfect? "Esme taught you nothing in your childhood but regret, and Carlisle only sought to teach you the pleasure of playing one woman for another! Emmett is as insensitive as they come, with his hot commodity attitude and prideful stride. Poor Alice…" I shook my head with a bitter chuckle. "You couldn't even tell her you got her love killed! She doesn't belong to the Cullenciano, obviously. I will never take your name." I screeched his face, pushing at his chest roughly. Oh, I just hated his guts!
"You're only hurting yourself." He muttered bitterly, pushing me away easily. I stumbled backwards a little, but kept my balance just in time as I clutched onto the mantle. "Give me this!" And he snatched the bottle from my loose grasp, emitting a low growl of protest from my lips. "You think that this is the worst life you could have had? You believe that I am the worst kind of monster you could have been stuck with?" I swallowed softly as he grabbed my arm by my elbow. "I have allowed you to keep your virginity, I have given you the liberty of a white wedding, done together with a patience groom and supportive family that you seem to hate even if there is no other group of people lining up to keep you company!"
"I don't hate them, I only hate you!" I spat quickly; I loved Alice and Esme, I truly did. Emmett was a pompous ass, but he did care for me. And Carlisle… well, I didn't him on a personal level enough to judge.
His condescending chuckle brought fresh moisture to my eyes. "You know nothing of real hate, little girl. How about I treat you like the woman you think you are." Before I could ask him just what he meant, he shoved my body against the wall and pressed his body along mine. I gasped at the contact, with his mouth working against my own. But soon, his hands traveled to places I didn't want his hands to be- one over my breast and the other crinkling the starch shirt's hemline to rise it above my hip.
"No!" I slapped his chest away, but he wouldn't budge. I bit down on his lip, but it only further stimulated his arousal, as it was pressing against my leg. Soon, his sticky fingers traveled to the back of my dress and began ripping the buttons, so my back was almost fully exposed. My stockings were good as trash, as he ripped lines onto both sides. When he pulled away to level an even glare at me, my fist was already formed and ready for him. The ricocheting blow traveled around the room many times before it actually touched us. I never expected him to hit me back until he did. He slapped the stars out of me, as I trampled to the floor in my blinded haze and already tampered stupor. It was an open-handed slap, not as hard as the jab I sent him, but the six foot force behind it made a throbbing pain begin. How dare he hit me!
I grew up with the belief that a real man would never hit a woman, no matter the circumstance. it was only right. "Now you have a valid enough reason to hate me." And he walked out of the room with the bottle in his hand, only leaving behind the slamming door in his wake. I cried for a moment longer before slowly crawling my way to a standing position and making my way to my own room. He was never overly aggressive, let alone an angry man with a hot temper. I would admit that I was in the wrong for drinking a little too much and saying mean things, but the way he was touching me and then the slap… I promised myself I would never forgive him for any of it.
I was living with a monster. A real monster in the flesh.