Chapter One

"You change for two reasons, either you learn enough that you want to,

or you've been hurt enough that you have to."

*

My phone started ringing at 6:00, just like I expected it to. My mom wouldn't want me to be late to school now, would she?

"Isabella are you up!?" my mother nearly hollered into the phone. I could hear she was kind of distracted in the background. Filing, phones ringing, typing on her laptop. Always the busy one.

"Yeah, I am now, thanks mom," I replied groggily but as kindly as I could.

"Okay good," she replied, trying to sound sweet but I knew she was busy. She didn't intentionally put me behind her new husband. "Me and Phil should be home tonight, if not by tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay, cool," I said, looking around my room trying to find jeans to wear today, "I'll make sure the dishwashers unloaded and the kitchens picked up."

"Oh, thank you sweetie," my mom said, and I could tell she was smiling. "I'm sorry we've been so busy lately...I swear when I get home this weekend we'll do something. Just us girls." That's the thing, I wanted to say, you've been busy for the past seven months... and while that may not be a lot of time in the actual world, she missed almost my whole summer vacation and the end of my sophomore year. She was missing out on my highschool experience, the kinds that needed a mom there...

"I understand mom," even though I didn't, "Don't worry." I didn't want to make my mom feel like a bad mom... she was trying. She was following the second love of her life around, and Phil and her were working hard to try to get me the things I needed...

But I felt like half the time- especially now a days- all I needed was a mom.

"Thanks dear," she paused for a second, "I'm really sorry hon... my boss is calling me, I will talk to you tomorrow, Isabella." My mom was the only one who called me Isabella... it made me think she still did love me as much as she said she did.

"Okay, I love you mom..."

"I love you too, bye hon."

And she hung up.

I sighed, picking up jeans I already wore this week. I didn't have the spirit in me to care anymore... I put them on, found a baggy sweatshirt, and long sleeve shirt just in case I got cold and headed to the bathroom, afraid of what I would find. I looked in the mirror.

Oh no...

James had never given me a bruise on my face before. Never. I had never deserved it... but last night... he gave me one right below my left cheek bone. It wasn't un-cover-up-able. I just didn't want any questions... didn't want to make him more mad. It isn't like people hadn't asked me before, they had. But since I'm so naturally clumsy its easy to pass it off as a "Oh, I just fell down the stairs!" "I ran into a door." "I tripped." or my favorite "I got hit with a volleyball in gym."

I've had exactly a year to become an expert at coming up with excuses. I've been dating James since the end of my freshman year, and trust me, in the beginning I never would have saw this coming. He really did start off as the perfect boyfriend- not that I had any experience. He opened doors for me, paid for everything under the sun that I wanted, surprised me, was so friendly and nice to my mom and Phil- they absolutely loved him, from day one until now- he got to know my best friends, and was the stud on the football team. Everything that you could ever want in a boyfriend, he had.

The first slap I didn't even see coming. It was only four months after we started dating. I remember exactly what we were arguing about, exactly where we were, even the approximate time. He was mad that I went to the football after party by myself, instead of waiting forty minutes for him to get out of the locker room to drive me himself. We were in his car, he was driving me home, so it had to be around midnight.

"Is, I don't understand why you didn't just wait for me," he said getting really frustrated.

"I don't understand what the big deal is, I left with all my girlfriends," I said rasing my voice.

"All of your slutty girlfriends who have no boyfriends?" he said, now raising his voice.

"They may be slutty but I am nothing like them! What does it honestly matter!?" I screeched. He was making accusations for no apparent reason, and I wanted to know why.

"It matters because I say it does," he growled.

"That's a real good excuse, 'It matters because I-'" he slapped me square across the face, middle of my sentence. I didn't see his hand coming, but I did feel the immediate burn after. I brought my hand up to my face shaking.... I didn't know what to say. What to do. I had never been afraid of a single person before, but right then I wanted to jump out of the car. We were parked by this point, but I was too afraid to look at him but he was breathing as if he was horrified of what he had just done.

"I- I," I started to stammer.

"I don't know where that came from... I'm so sorry Is...Is I'm so sorry..." he practically pleaded with me. I didn't know what to do... I felt frozen in time.

And I wish I could go back and freeze it. Because I'm too deep now to just get out of the car and not care.

*

For the first couple months, it honestly wasn't bad. Even for the next four months. The first night after James slapped me, he didn't lay a hand on me for those several months. But I did notice a change after that night.

Before, he was always so sweet and innocent. We were in love after only a couple months of our relationship, because it was so perfect, with no expectations of one and other. It was my first real relationship, and only his second. I had never done anything before, from holding hands to sex, it was all so new to me. He was the complete gentleman, at first.

After that night though, he got a lot more snippy. Frustrated with me, because I would make some silly comment or not think before I spoke. He would get mad how we couldn't be together as much as he wanted to. When I would talk to other guys he would get insanely jealous, claiming that I was flirting and how could I do this to him? He started getting rougher, trying to get me to go farther than I wanted to sexually. I was still a virgin and only sixteen. Although I wasn't very religious I still held onto my virtue like it was something special, and me and James had only been dating for a little over four months at this point.

The worst wasn't even the sexual part at first, it was the fact that I started to believe things he would say.

"You're so stupid, Is, how could you even think that is a rational thought!?"

"What were you thinking, are you stupid!?"

"You're so fucking stupid..."

Over and over again, these things were said to me daily. It became sort of a routine. I did have a 4.0 GPA, I used to be on the newspaper staff... I didn't think I was stupid. But even after only a couple times, hearing that from someone you love, it starts to sink in. You start to believe it, and become it. My grades didn't start dropping immediately, no it took almost half a year for me to get lower than C's... but I started to stress out much more about school than I normally did. I started to think my friends, parents and teachers thought I was stupid. I didn't like raising my hand anymore, or participating in talk, afraid I would make some stupid error and make them mad...

James would get mad at me for every little thing. I make him a grilled cheese, its too burnt. I pick him up from football, I was five minutes late. I get new perfume, I smell like shit.

Nothing was ever right. Everything I did was always wrong. At this point I knew something in our relationship was messed up, or in trouble, evidently, but every relationship has its weaknesses. I figured it was just because he was really stressed out about football.

After football season, it just got worse. That was when it all really started.

"Why can you not hangout today?" he questioned as we were both leaving school. I was tired, I needed a nap or something. Every night I was having horrific dreams. They were all of me being killed.

"Rene wants to take me out to dinner," I lied. I should of known he would see past my lies, I never was good at telling them.

"Oh, okay," it sounded like he was sarcastically mocking me, and I was scared of that.

When I got home, I was alone of course. Phil and Rene were in Florida for at least a couple more days, so I just ran to the nearest, comfy looking piece of furniture, and just crashed. I fell asleep within seconds of my head touching the couch pillow. It didn't even cross my mind that I forgot to lock the door...

I woke up to a shaking, very disoriented, and scared automatically.

"Out to dinner, huh?" James screamed at me.

"James, I'm sorry-,"

"You're sorry, you're fucking SORRY?" He yelled, I wasn't sure what he wanted.

"I was just so tired..."

"Tired of what, ME?!" He slapped me again, what was more sad than this, was the fact that I could barely feel the sting anymore... my cheek was getting used to being slapped, used to the pain. It hardly registered anymore.

"No, James, never of yo-," I started but his hands went around my throat. This was the worst it had ever gotten before.

"Bull. Shit." he said them distinctly as two words, spitting at me as he said them. I was struggling for air, I couldn't breathe. I tried to wheeze out, please, but it just sounded like gurgled junk. "Want to know what I'm tired of!?" he shook me as he said this, making my neck snap back and forth with all the force he was using.

"I'm sick of my girlfriend, lying to me, thinking that I won't find out. I'm sick of her bull shit flirting with other guys and her stupid ass fucking comments. I'm sick of the fact that she will not ever, ever, fucking put out for ME! And I'm most sick of her living!"

I started to see spots, I didn't want to die at this point, not yet! I started to flail my arms, trying miserably to get away from my boyfriend. I used my feet, which in the end were useless.

"Oh, you like that, you like it?!" and he increased his pressure on my neck. NO! I screamed, I HATE YOU!

I started to die... slowly, for the first time, and for many more to come, I thought I was going to. Right before he took his hands off my neck, and started kissing everywhere all around.

"I'm sorry, Is," he said, although he didn't sound quite as sorry as he used to. "I swear I didn't mean to..." I was gasping for air, at the same time trying to inconspicuously push him off of me. I was disgusted with myself, but more over the fact that I felt, and still feel like I deserve this. I deserve to almost die, and have that taken away from me. I deserve this boyfriend, and nothing better...

"Isabella?" my moms voice pulled me out of my flashback.

"Yes?" I said, looking up from my homework at the kitchen counter, not noticing my eyes were glazed over with tears.

"Oh, hon, what's wrong?" she asked. She looked genuinely concerned, although she really had no clue.

"Nothing, nothing. Just some boyfriend issues..." I said very much understating it.

"Oh... well James is a good man, maybe you should invite him over," my mom asked innocently. She had no idea... "Phil and I are going out for dinner for a little bit, you could use the company... You always seem so alone, Is..."

"Yeah... that's a good idea. Maybe," I said, regretting I'd even said maybe to inviting him over.

"Here give me your phone, I'll call that handsome guy over here," she said giggling. No.

"Uh... he's probably busy, or something, I don't want to bug him," I said sheepishly. Mom... please, I begged in my head. But she had no idea, I couldn't blame her... this was my fault. I'd gotten myself into this mess, but there was no way I could get myself out now.

"Oh, please. Hon, he loves you so much. I can see it in his eyes. He'd drop anything to get to see you!" she smiled warmly. She actually believed this. I sighed, and just handed her my phone. Like myself, my mom was very stubborn when she wanted something. And now, was one of those times.

She flipped open my cheap phone, and dialed. I felt my breath hitch, I was already scared and I couldn't even hear him yet.

"Hello? Oh, hi James, this is Rene!" she said bubbly as ever, "Listen me and Phil are going out for the night, and Is told me that you guys are having some issues, I really think she could use the company, she seems sad over this little rough patch!"

Oh. My. God. I was dead.

Don't talk. Don't tell. That was his policy.

"Oh great! Okay, yep! Anytime would be good for her! Thank you, James," my mom smiled. "See you later!"

"See, that wasn't so bad, now was it, Is?!" she half asked, giving me back my phone. "PHIL LETS GO!" she yelled up the stairs, making her way to the door. "You kids have fun tonight," she said to me.

"Yeah... We'll try," I could hear the doubt in my own voice.

Thirty minutes later I heard my front door slam.

"Is, Is, where are you my little darling," I heard him cackle, at his playful ways.

"I'm in the living room..." I stated, trying to sound strong about it. I would rather him know where I was, then play his game of cat and mouse. I didn't even hear his footsteps when he walked in, I saw him first.

"Hello, Is," he didn't sound mad... if anything, he sounded... seductive. I don't know what one I was more afraid of.

"Hi," I said, trying not to have my voice shake. It made him excited when I was scared.

He was over to me in three long strides, touching, caressing my face, in a way that disgusted me.

"You look so beautiful tonight," he said smirking, while his finger tips grazed over my lips.

"Th-Thank you," I couldn't help but stutter.

"So you told your mom, pretty girl?" he shook his head while he said this.

"No... no I didn't," I was not involuntarily shaking. I shook my head, trying to get the point across. I WAS TOO AFRAID TO OPEN MY MOUTH TO ANYONE!

"Naughty, naughty, girl... should we teach you a lesson?" he said, more than questioned me. I knew I didn't have a say in anything, anyways. He started kissing down my neck, giving me goose bumps. Not out of pleasure, but of sheer terror of where this was leading.

"No, James. Please," I begged. I knew then that for the first time, I was going to be raped for my boyfriend. It would not be the last time.

I don't know what brought it on, I would much rather have the rage, and fury then this. His grimy hands touching me, undressing me. Sucking on my earlobe, trying to get me to enjoy this. But nothing could make me, which then brought on his crazy side. And it just happened.

But I deserved this.

And I always would.