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'No Ordinary Cinderella' – A Twilight Fanfic

By No Ordinary Cinderella

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Authoress' Note: This is sometime in January, several months into the school year. Her life is like always; lonely and mute. Hehe, I wonder WHO might turn up?! Oh, Bella got changed after New Moon! This story takes place two years after that. I think New Moon was written in 2005, so it's in 2007!!!

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Saffron's POV

Chapter Three

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I awoke to my father's voice shouting my name, and a cold hand stuck me across the face. My eyes felt swollen as they opened into tiny slits, which I found, tingled as if I'd been attacked by a swarm of bees. I brought my hand to my face and felt the swollen bump and nearly let out a whimper as my eyes seemed to pound with pain as soon as my cold fingers came upon the warm, blotchy surface.

"Get up!"

His menacing figure was greeted by silence.

"Get. Up. Now!" His snarl rippled through me, causing shivers, I began to try to pick myself up, but no matter how hard I tried to push myself up, no matter how hard I wanted to or needed to, I knew one thing; gravity always wins.

My sensitive scalp was yanked on, until I was fully upright and he then landed a perfect kick onto my abdomen and another, until my eyes were wider from shock and pain, and the tears started to form. Satisfaction beamed on his face, and he caught one of my falling tears on his hands and brought it up to his face, smelling it, and then licking it. "Don't you just love the smell and taste of fear?"

Silence.

"ANSWER ME DAMN IT!"

Silence once more.

"Oh you little fucki-" His harsh words were cut off by his harsher blows.

"I suggest you take the day off, we don't want people dropping dead at your repugnance now would we?" I nodded my head, defeated, and with one more fatal blow, he left me lying on the tough, damp carpet.

Curious as to why it was damp, I flung my head downwards and a rush of dizziness seemed to obscure my vision. After my head stopped swimming, I began to notice the once green carpet had gotten darker, and turned to a shade of brown. A dry reddish-brown. I didn't fight the urge to gasp. The floor was stained with my blood, and the now brown substance had pooled out on the carpet. It nearly filled all of the small room and splashes of the red substance appeared on the walls. I fought the urge to scream. I had lost so much blood in one little night.

I couldn't remember much from then on, just that I drifted in and out from dreamland. But I soon discovered that my dreams are worst than my reality, constant memories that triggered in my mind from previous beatings, of a little sandy-haired girl, watching the shadows 'dance' across the walls, night after night, until her little voice spoke up for the ever tinier brown haired girl lying motionless across the floor. The consequence? Death.

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I made sure to wake up earlier today, to make sure that in my lonely, silent world, that it would ensure no beating during this morning, I wouldn't be able to take it. My eyes had reduced, but were still red, it made it look like I had very bad asthma or had suffered an allergic reaction so I was roughly okay to attend school.

It had taken me nearly four hours to scrub and scratch harshly at my skin to scrape off the caked blood and nearly two more hours for my hair to look somewhat decent enough to go out in public, still lank and lifeless, but enough.

After washing my wounds and pulling on some old, ripped jeans, and a sweatshirt that was too huge for me, I placed the backpack on my shoulder, wincing when it stung, and walked out the door, taking my time as I shambled down the streets to high school.

After a good half hour walk, I reached the car park, early, as usual. No one else was there except the latest model of what looked like a silver Volvo. I simply shrugged, letting it pass in my mind.

Limping my way to my locker, I gratefully dumped my bag in there, and gathered my books for my first classes. I then proceeded, whilst ignoring the pain settling into my arms, to the English building.

There were no new students in my English class; maybe a teacher had finally got enough salary in a small town like this to afford the updated version of a Volvo? Ha. They can keep dreaming and so would I. I would never be able to afford a car let alone have a very expensive one and I would find myself walking and walking for miles and miles just to reach a destination and then repeat that again and again, willing to my father's needs, bending to his rules, possibly for the rest of my damned life. And I will travel alone; I always travel alone, even if I wish not to.

As soon as the clanging bell rang signalling the end of class, I dragged my aching limbs to my music appreciation class, the only thing that truly mattered to me was music, I didn't even care about myself now.

Sitting down in my normal seat, a good ten minutes into the lesson, I noticed that the people around me were all gathered in groups of threes today and practicing for an unknown event. Something churned in my stomach. This was not good, not good at all.

Mr Gowland's voice caught me from under my transfixed and bewildered staring and he beckoned me closer. So, I walked over to him, trying not to flinch when my bruised leg accidentally struck against a chair making it swell even worse. Approaching his desk, he made a gesture to sit down, and so I took the nearest seat.

"Saffron. Do you notice the people around you? Do you notice they are in threes? Do you notice they are practicing for something? Well, yesterday, when you were ill, you missed out on these instructions. Well, Saffron, I know this may be hard on you, being a mute; but an important part of the curriculum, 30 of your grade actually; is performing a song with…wordsI know I have let you get away from not singing for years, just you and your perfect playing got you straight A's but now you can not do the same thing, this year is mostly based on singing attributes and I'm afraid you can not pass with your wonderful musical instrument playing alone."

"I am sorry to say that you have to do three songs, two singular, one in a group of three, it can be any song of your choice. You failed the 15 of your grade last time didn't you? As you refused to sing." I gave a slight nod.

"Well, the problem is now is that you have to use vocals, for at least one of them, I will take no exceptions and if you fail this by not using you voice, you will have to be kept back a year." My eyes had gotten wider and my hands now dug into the chair. "This is simply because, if you get below a C, which is 60, higher than most subjects, you will fail."

I…hav-have to sing?

A salty tear ran down my cheek and I swiped it away before he caught sight of it, nodding once, I turned away and the other tears seemed to splash off my face once they had been held back for too long.

I had to do this, otherwise, if I was held back a year, my father would murder me, possibly in a much cruel and bitter way than Cathy's slaying. Do I really want to be killed?I had told myself so long that I had wanted to die, but do I actually want to be parted from this world, and be with my unknown mother and my dearest sister? A little voice, frail and hoarse whispered one tiny word in my ear: 'No.'

Your assigned group is…he fished out a sheet, "Ah, two of the new students; Edward & Ryan Cullen." He called there names as I stood there, my hands clinging onto the chair, my posture was stiff and my thoughts went somewhere entirely different as I heard footsteps approach.

Could I do this? Could I speak? I haven't spoken since the night that Cathy d-d-died. I felt the warm tracks of salt crystals and realised I had been crying. Could I speak once more? Music was the only thing that I and Catherine truly loved, it was our hope, our dreams, our souls. Cathy always played the music beautifully whilst I sung along, a perfect harmony, meant for two imperfect people. Music was the only thing that combined us together, who we were and what we did didn't matter when we played, it didn't matter we were broken and bruised, it didn't matter that we were battered and unloved, nothing mattered, apart from us, and the soft melody. Could I really sing and make music without my big sister? Would she want me to? Somewhere, deep inside, roughly where my heart used to be, I felt the uneasy feeling that I had to do this, I had to do this, just one last time. I'm so sorry Cathy.

I noticed that three people's eyes were trained on me intensely. Two of them had startling beauty. One was tall, possibly a little over 6 feet, the other was taller still. The tallest one had strange auburn hair, the other, chocolate brown. They both had snowy white skin, and mysterious golden eyes that drew you in. They were possibly the most beautiful people I had ever seen. AN: I am not too fussed about the descriptions as you can see, as we all know perfectly well what Edward looks like. Also, I have uploaded pictures of what I think they all look like so take a look!

"My name is Edward, and this is my brother, Ryan." The bronze haired guy's velvet voice announced, so he was Edward and the other was Ryan. I opened my mouth, even though I didn't want to, I had to practice my vocal chords one last time before the curtain was closed, never to be open again.

All that came out was a ghastly choking noise. I nodded my head and looked away, ashamed. I can't break it, I can't break it, I can't break it, I can't do this, I can't do this. 'Yes you can.' the tiny voice in my head spoke into my ear, 'Yes you can.' It repeated.

The silence was the only defence I had left, the only strength that deterred me. Knowing that I had my silence was like knowing your best friend had your back. Silence was my companion and somehow, I couldn't let it go and it wouldn't let me go either. I was wrapped around it tightly and sharply, it drew me in, and it placed me in its claws. No matter how hard I tried to cut through it, or force the words out, it wouldn't let me go.

The teacher's voice snapped me out of my reverie. "This is Saffron. Ever since that fatal accident, she has been mute. It will be a little hard for her to adjust, so be easy with her." His voice lacked kindness in the beginning and then softened a little at the end. I knew that he wanted me to sing for him again. He remembered my singing voice and he wanted it back, I should feel offended that he was forcing me to do this, but now, I was just a living zombie with no emotions. And only because of Cathy was I doing this. Music combined our souls, and I hoped that somewhere in heaven, she could hear me and she would know I loved her, and she would hear my pleas for not saving her that night, I had to try, for Cathy's sake.

When I opened my mouth again, I was met with a very hoarse sound. Mr Gowland told me to practice over in the corner, and the Cullens asked if I minded what song we did. I shook my head. For an hour and a half, I was practicing my vocal chords. After these performances are done, I will never speak again. It was an unspoken vow, but a vow none the less.

My voice came out hoarse still, and I practiced and practiced and practiced, trying to form the simple words I wanted to say most. I missed my next class, and my next, trying to make my vocal chords work, trying my hardest to say the words I needed to say. I was standing in the toilets trying so desperately to make my voice work once more, for a dramatic finale before they were shut down again, this time, for good.

I will prevail, I must prevail, I will prevail, I must prevail, I have to do this, I will do this, can I do this? I spent all of lunch in there; in fact I missed all my classes trying to make my voice come back. The hoarse noise dramatically cracked and transformed into a frail, weak voice. But I kept practicing over and over again. I had to do this, in vain hope; I had to do this, for my sister.

And soon, that weak voice turned into a normal voice and wonderfully altered into my singing voice once again as I hummed a few words and sung a few notes. All in one day, I broke my three years of silence. My defence was broken now, but it was not irreparable, it would be fixed, once my songs were over.

Tears seemed to leak out of me again as my eyes looked into the mirror beyond, my hands clutching onto either side of the sink as my posture broke. I clung to the sink in vain hope that I could say the words I wanted, no, I needed to say. I had to say them, I had to let Cathy know that I love her, I need her, and that I was sorry, sorry I couldn't stop her death as I was only a puny little weakling who couldn't stop our father from beating her and yet she had done everything she could to help me, to save me, and I couldn't do anything for her. I had to say this, I had to.

But the silence will still impend to me; I could not escape its clutches forever. Silence is my key to survival, silence is the only way for me to not get hurt by everyone, silence is the very thing that pieces me together. Without it, my whole façade would fall apart.

I managed to utter out the words I was so desperate to say: "I love you Cathy, please forgive me."

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AN: If you read, please review!

And you didn't go over the 40 mark, so nooooooo bonus! Sorry girls and guys! But you still get a wonderful chapter!