A/N: Hi everyone! Welcome back to Paradise. ;) I'm so dumb lmao. I'm so happy with the positive responses I've been receiving for this story! Also, I received a review asking how the gang was going to get home last chapter since they were drunk. They just ended up staying over at Mike's house!

Leave a review and let me know how you feel! Enjoy.

BPOV

(This chapter is starting right after Phil calls Bella and yells at her when she's at Edward's.)

I almost lost my grip on the steering wheel numerous times as I was racing home. My palms only get this sweaty when I know Phil is very, very angry.

I was so in a rush to get to Edward's that I completely forgot to finish the dishes. Phil hated when I didn't keep the house spotless. I was definitely going to wake up sore in the morning.

I knew I needed a stable mind to drive, and the amount of nerves and fear that were pulsing through my veins was not making me stable. I forced myself to think of something positive. Something that makes me happy.

Edward.

I was more thankful for Edward than anything else in the world. He was that reassurance that somebody was there for me. I don't care how new or undeveloped our friendship is – it's still amazing to me.

He's the most intriguing person I've ever met, because he's different from all the others. He took time out of his day to get to know me and to be my friend, something that nobody in this world has ever done. He's special. Even though I act like a complete nervous idiot around him, he still gives me butterflies and makes me blush like no other. It must be the fact that I have never had a friend before. I have no idea how to act.

My happy thoughts didn't last long, though. I pulled into the driveway in record time, my heart pounding and my body shaking intensely. I prayed to God and my Mother to keep me safe tonight. I wish she was here. I would be a normal girl if she was here. I wouldn't be tainted and ruined like the pathetic girl I am now.

I could barely open the door because my hands were trembling so damn hard. I knew I would rather enter the gates of hell than this house.

I quietly entered and immediately heard his deep, raspy voice call my name from the living room. I hated the way my name sounded coming out of his mouth.

I took a deep breath and made my way further into the house, trying to distract myself with the happy thoughts again. It was useless, though. I was much too fear-stricken.

"Isabella, why can't you learn? The rules are simple in this house, but you somehow manage to constantly fuck up. You're the most pathetic, retarded person living on this Earth. I wish you would have died instead of your mother. My life would be so much better that way." His words should have stung, but he's said them so many times that I've grown numb to them. I mean, they still hurt, but they didn't make me cry in a ball as they used to. The only thing that makes me do that is the physical abuse, which I knew was coming.

See, I'm not retarded.

He slapped me across the face, causing a smacking sound to bounce off the walls and mock me for my weakness. It burned terribly, but I held in my cries. I would not cry in front of him. He would not see my tears.

He grabbed me by the neck and push me up against the wall, squeezing as if he wanted my head to pop off. I gasped for air and kicked my legs, begging him silently to put me down. He's never gone as far as to strangle me. I didn't want to die this way. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to Edward.

I could feel myself losing consciousness. I knew his screams of profanities were right in my ear, but I could barely hear him. It sounded as though he was on the other side of the neighborhood. My vision went blurry and my body became very warm, too warm that it was painful, before I blacked out.

My eyes were having a tough time opening, but when they finally did, I was confused.

I was lying on the living room floor. How did I get there? When did I get there?

I rubbed my head in confused and sat up, slowly putting the pieces back together.

Phil had choked me to the point of unconsciousness, and I was now just waking up. What time was it?

I spotted my backpack a few feet away, the moonlight shining in through the window being my only guide. I pulled my cell phone out of my backpack and checked the time.

2:14 AM.

I was really knocked out for over six hours? Phil really did a number on me this time. I'm not even surprised he left me on the floor while he waltzed upstairs to his comfy bed and fell asleep, probably dreaming up more ways to torture me.

I fucking hate him.

I grabbed water from the kitchen before making my way upstairs, walking ever so quietly. I could not risk waking Phil up. He would be beyond pissed.

Once I was safely in my room, I locked the door behind me and went straight to the window, bringing my Mom's copy of Wuthering Heights with me. The only coordinated thing I never failed at was climbing out of the window and onto the tree right outside. Mom and I did it all the time. We'd point out different birds that flew around the sky, read, or just talk. I needed to do whatever I could to be close to her right now.

I kept the light on in my room to help me read the book, and I sighed in content as I dove in. This moment brought back so many amazing times. I could almost feel her presence next to me on the damp branch.

"I miss you, Mom," I whispered to the cool October air. I put the book down next to me and looked up at the stars.

"I need you. Why did you have to go? You had no idea who Phil truly was when you married him. I'm not mad at you, though, Mom. You wanted happiness, and he made you happy. He was a good guy back then. I don't blame you. I just wish you were here now. Not only so Phil would be nice again, but just so you could be back in my life. It's so hard without you. I miss exploring in the woods, and laughing at the stupid people on Jerry Springer, and spraying each other with the hose in the Summer time because we wanted a pool so badly, but Phil always said no. Do you remember all that, Mom? I sure do. I'll never forget it."

I didn't bother wiping the tears that poured down my face. There was no use. More would just come.

"What am I going to do, Mom? I can't live like this forever. I really can't. I need an escape, but I have no idea how. He'll find me. He swore if I ever left, he'd find me right away. I know he will. Besides, I have nowhere to go. I have no money and nobody who would take me in. I just need that one person, Mom. That one person that will help. Would I even let them, though? I don't know. It would be terrifying. Please, Mom, just help me get out of here."

I was not in a good mood the next day.

As I went from class to class, I couldn't help but constantly think of Phil. I was completely shocked at the abuse he gave me last night. He's never choked me. Does this mean he's going to do shit like that from now on? I was terrified. I couldn't shake the fear.

I fumbled with my locker before lunch, trying to get the stupid lock to work when I felt a presence behind me.

I slowly turned and was face to face with Tanya Denali.

"Hello, Bella," she sneered my name with hatred, the same way Phil does. It caused me to tremble in fear without being able to control it.

I didn't respond.

"I'm here to warn you to stay away from Edward. He's mine and he doesn't want a pathetic freak like you. You're just wasting your time. If you talk to him anymore, there will be hell to pay," she warned before sauntering away, meeting up with the rest of her bitch friends down the hall.

Great.

I should have been scared, but I wasn't. I was still going to talk to Edward. If I could handle Phil, I could handle whatever "hell" Tanya would throw my way.

Her words did hurt, though. It just sucked to know that you're seen as a freak at home and at school.

What was she even talking about, though? I'm not the reason her and Edward aren't together. Why is she blaming me?

I entered the cafeteria in a worse mood than I had begun the day in.

I felt instantly better, but confused at the same time, when Edward and his friends had asked if they could join me. My heart rate picked up, and I couldn't tell if it was out of shyness or excitement. I feared not knowing their intentions, but I also craved their friendship, or whatever it was that they were offering.

And when Edward asked me what I was thinking, I couldn't help but, somehow, feel happy about that. I should tell him to butt out, to run away screaming from my fucked up life. Save yourself, Edward, before it's too late.

But I didn't. Instead, I blushed like a school girl and became giddy at the fact that he cared enough to ask. Was that bad of me? Maybe. Did I care? Not nearly enough.

I grew upset again, though, as I drove my truck home. I couldn't help but drown in the fact that I wouldn't talk to Edward until Sunday when I went to his house for the project. I know two days is not a long time, but whatever. He was still something that made me happy and I wouldn't be happy again for two days.

Phil texted me around 4:00 and said he wouldn't be home until after midnight. I didn't ask why, though, and he didn't tell me why. All I knew is that I wouldn't have to cook for him, or endure him until tomorrow.

As I pulled out my journal, I literally cringed at my last entry. When I write, it's as though I completely lose myself and write with more emotions than logic. Sometimes it's as if I'm drunk, because I wake up the next morning, read my latest entry, and barely remember writing it. It's odd, but it's me.

My last entry was written last night after I had reached out to my Mom.

As a fan of Nirvana, I am still completely pissed off at Kurt Cobain for killing himself. I mean, he had family and money and music that touched so many lives, literally feeding into the souls of almost every angsty teen of the 90's. Why end it? His music spoke to me in my angriest times, when I was feeling like utter filth for the way I am. I hate myself sometimes. Nirvana helped me, though. I just wish they had made more music for me to admire. If only Kurt hadn't done what he'd done.

But, thinking of the way he blew his fucking head off makes me wonder: is that the answer, if your life is nothing but sorrows and wallowing in self-pity through hell? Maybe Kurt wasn't wrong. Maybe he knew exactly what he was doing.

People call Kurt weak and a coward for taking the easy way out, but, even though I'm so fucking mad at him, I don't blame him. That's because sometimes I want to take a shotgun and blow my own fucking brains out. I mean, what else is there for me to do? It's either that, or endure this fucking torture with emotionless humans for the rest of my life. I will never get out of my personal hell. Kurt knew he wouldn't get out of his either, so he ended his life. Is that the answer to my problems?

It pains me to say that this entry was not my only suicidal one. It terrified me to no end to see a part of me act that way. I knew I wouldn't do that to myself, or at least not now. Something pulled me back. I don't know what it was, but it was something.

I spent my night lounging around my room either writing, reading, doing schoolwork, or listening to music. It was one of the most relaxing nights I've had in a while. My entries were not nearly as dark as they were the previous night.

I was listening to some music when I heard my ringtone blaring from across the room. I froze in place and found it hard to breathe. Phil only called when he was angry.

I hesitantly crept towards the phone, fearing what was on the other end, when I saw the name on the screen.

Edward.

Edward was calling me? This late? Something must be wrong. He did say he was going to a party tonight. Was he drunk and needed to be picked up? I had to find out. If he needed help, I just had to be there for him.

"Edward?" I called into the phone.

"Bella, hey!" He sounded drunk. His words were a bit unpronounced and he was all but screaming.

"Is something wrong? It's almost midnight," I inquired. I was about to grab my keys and come to his rescue before I heard him laugh obnoxiously, but still beautifully.

"Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to know how you're doing," he explained as if it was normal. I felt a huge grin spread across my face like a wild fire. Edward was calling me just to…talk. He didn't need anything. Just a friend.

"I'm fine?" I said it as if it were a question, because I barely believed that I was fine. I was much too elated and blissed to be speaking to him.

"How's your Grandma?" He asked nonchalantly, trying to spark conversation.

"She's, uh, she's good. I'm glad I'm spending time with her," I lied, praying that he believed it.

"Bella, you're such a nice person," he whispered sincerely. He was probably just saying that because he was drunk, but it sounded honest as hell and the drunk excuse didn't stop me from almost squealing like a school girl.

"Edward, you're drunk," I giggled. I couldn't help myself. He was adorable.

Adorable?

"So?" He challenged.

"So you have no idea what you're talking about, and you most likely won't remember this in the morning."

"Of course I'll remember it! This phone call is probably the best part of the night so far," he sounded honest. Very honest. Could he seriously mean that?

The party must just be boring or something. There's no way in hell that my pathetic self is more interesting than a party filled with booze and slutty girls that would do anything to get in his pants. That thought made me frown. I didn't want to think of that, and I don't know why.

"What kind of party are you at if talking to me is the best part of the night?"

The gorgeous laugh from the other end of the phone gave me butterflies. I wish I could see his face when he laughed like that. I bet my butterflies would literally explode out of my asshole.

"I don't think you see yourself the way I do. You're a much more interesting person than you think you are."

"I haven't said anything remotely interesting during this whole conversation," I reminded him, feeling sad again. I was not anywhere near interesting. He was definitely saying this because he was drunk.

Right?

"Well, shit," he chuckled. I couldn't help but laugh.

I suddenly heard Phil's car crumble over the granite driveway. Thank God my window was open.

"Edward, I have to go, um, make sure my Gram took her meds for the night. I'll see you on Sunday."

"Why can't I talk to you before then?" He sounded sincerely upset.

I was beyond thrilled. Okay, maybe it wasn't the booze that was talking. I didn't expect our friendship to mean this much to Edward, but knowing that it does sent me straight to cloud nine.

"You, um, wanna talk before then?" I whispered, hoping Phil wouldn't hear. It was risky enough to talk to Edward on the phone while Phil was home. I didn't want to let him go yet, though. I wanted, no, needed to hear his voice for just a couple more seconds.

"Yeah, you're my friend! You can text me whenever if you want."

I smiled, sincerely happy. "O-okay. Well, I have to go now. Goodnight, Edward. Be safe tonight."

I quickly hung up before I lost will power and stayed on the phone any longer. I was having a great night and getting in trouble by Phil would completely ruin that.

I woke up the next morning at 10:45. It was very, very rare for me to ever sleep that late. The only reason I did was because I didn't fall asleep until 4:30 AM. I couldn't stop thinking of Edward.

I always thought it made me so happy to talk to him because I finally had a friend, someone to spend time with and interact with. But then, I started thinking of what Edward could have been doing in that moment, and the thoughts I came up with made me pissed.

He could have been making out with some drunk girl at the party, or hooking up with Tanya again. Those thoughts made me glare at my empty walls. I hated, no, fucking loathed the idea of Edward with another girl. That was when I realized that I had a little crush on him.

Okay, sure. So I kind of like Edward. Is that so bad? I can't help that his smile makes me forget any type of pain, or that his smell instantly relaxes me, or that his laugh is the most magical thing I've ever heard. I could have my secret crush, right? As long as nobody found out, it didn't hurt anybody but myself. I would have to accept the fact that I could never have him that way. He could never be with a girl like me. I would just have to endure the pain that came with watching him be with somebody else one day.

I looked out the window expecting Phil's cruiser to be gone. I was right. If he was home, he would most definitely not let me sleep this late.

I made me way downstairs, excited as all hell to make myself breakfast. I was starving.

I noticed a note on the counter. The writing was scribbled in careless, ugly writing.

Be back around dinner time. Clean the house.

I crumbled the note up and threw it in the garbage. I made myself an egg with some toast and ate slowly, enjoying my little meal.

I got to work right away, listening to some old school rock as I cleaned. I was scrubbing the tub when I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket of my sweats.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that I had a text from Edward. I opened the text as quickly as I could, anxious and excited to see what he'd said.

I just realized that I called you last night. I hope my phone call made you amused and not annoyed

I giggled and typed my reply right away.

Definitely not annoying when someone who's at a huge party tells you you're the best part of their night.

I was acting a bit risky, but I had nothing to lose. I was already in deeper than I had anticipated.

He replied within a few minutes, but it felt like eternity.

I wasn't lying about that, FYI.

My palms grew so sweaty that I almost dropped my phone. I was acting like a completely typical girl. Whatever.

Are you sure about that?

I reminded myself to continue to clean while I waited for a reply. I definitely was not trying to get Phil mad.

It took Edward about twenty minutes to answer.

100%. What are you up to for the day?

He wanted to know what I was up to? He actually wanted to talk, not just apologize for his behavior last night.

The rational, scared part of me yelled at myself not to trust him. Nobody besides my mother was nice to me for my whole life. There has to be a reason for Edward's behavior. I bet someone put him up to it as a joke. Maybe it's a bet of some sorts.

But, the way he defended me against Tanya and the conversations we've had are much too sincere and honest. He can't be that good of an actor. Can he?

I began typing about cleaning my house, but then I quickly caught myself just in time. I completely forgot that I'm supposed to be at my Grandma's.

Probably going to spend my day watching TV with my Grandma.

Well, I'll leave you to it, then. I'll see you tomorrow, right?

I didn't want Edward to stop texting me. Was this wrong? What if he found out too much? He could get hurt. It would be all my fault. I couldn't bear to see him get hurt, let alone be the cause of it.

However, I simply could not ignore the pull I felt towards him, no matter how hard I tried.

Edward and I texted for most of the rest of the day. We talked about music, movies, his family, and anything else we could think of. It was easily the best day of my life since my Mother passed. I was starting to grow an attachment to Edward, which I knew was probably a bad idea. What if Phil found out? He would kill him. I couldn't let anything happen to Edward. I would die first.

I would just be careful, though, because there's no way in hell that I could simply shove him out of my life at this point. I was in far too deep.