Disclaimer: the wondrous and marvellous Stephenie Meyer owns all of twilight and its characters, I merely take the characters and muck them about.
A/N Hello although I have been getting more hits and alerts, I would love to have a review or 2 because it would be nice to have some feedback on the story, even just "please update" would be encouraging, so try to enjoy and please give a tiny review its quite disheartening otherwise. Thanks. SS
My legs trembling and tears rolling down my numb face, he looked at me with a sick smile on his face before taking a picture. The flash blinded me; I closed my eyes and didn't have the strength to open them again.
'Whore' his words cut me deeper than any knife he had already used. How true, I am filthy, I let this man use me, thrust himself inside me like I was some cheap tart. And with that he left me. Left me trembling, vulnerable and exposed to the world. I turned to my right and retched, the acid burned my throat, the pain unnoticed in comparison. He had slashed me between my thighs, two crescents marking me his forever, the cigarette burn on my chest, and his face imprinted on my mind.
Slowly I stumbled to my feet and tried to pull my torn jeans over my exposed body before I grabbed my coat from the dirty alley and wrapped its broken and tatty form around me before stumbling away. Tripping and falling I grazed my hands, only to wipe the dirt and blood on my coat. This was clean blood, good dirt, untainted by him, not caused by him. Slamming shut my truck I sucked in a deep breath and closed my eyes. Hide it. The only option I had, I was a whore just like he said and I couldn't allow anyone else to see this. My stomach heaved at the thought, coughing and gagging there was nothing left but bile.
Trying to get myself to function I issued myself with orders. Put the keys in the ignition. Turn truck on. Drive home. Signal. Turn right. Lights off. Ignition off.
Sitting on the driveway to my house, I contemplated the best way to remove the evidence of my violation. Burying. Go inside. Strip. .shower. I had to wash away all traces of him, and myself. Bury clothes.
Standing in the woods I gasped for breath and lay down the small trowel I had. The clothes lay half covered in mud, and blood. As I pushed the mound of earth back over the clothes my muscles were taught and strained, tiring my body, exhausting me. Sweat ran in rivulets down my face, mingling with the cold freezing on my cheeks. Staring at the pile of fresh earth, it felt more like a funeral than anything else. My soul, my life, me, Bella dead. I stuck a cross of sticks on top then turned my back on myself. I would forget this, forget who I was.
As I crawled into my bed the tears silently rolled down my cheeks. I lay awake staring at the ceiling all night, unable to let myself sleep and face my attacker again even in my nightmares. And as I lay there I felt all my emotions drain away, my soul desert me, and my life freeze over. All that was left were the dried tears leaving salty tracks on my cheeks.