Hey friends, fans, and fellow readers/writers of Twilight FanFiction...in other words-Hey guys.

Here's a quick reminder of what's been going on in Senior Summer lately:

It's the last day of school and the first night of summer. Bella, Edward, Rosalie, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper are all in Forks High School's graduating class. This is their last chance to be together, they all want different careers, therefore must go to different colleges to get their degrees. They've known each other since they were in the first grade. They're all best friends.

Rosalie's mom died during her freshman year, her dad's been a wreck ever since, this leaves Rosalie to take care of her little sister Olivia. Alice is a major artist. She loves painting, writing, designing clothes, and dong crazy things with make-up. A few years ago she turned her room into a huge studio for everything and anything she wants. She painted each wall in a different scene. One is plain red, one's black splattered with neon, another is painted after a page from a comic book. The last one is still white. She's hoping that the summer will give her new ideas on what to fill it with. Bella is an extremely smart girl who can go to practically any school she pleases. She was valedictorian and has gotten straight A's all through school. She has her mind set on a certain school but with her trouble maker boyfriend, Edward, not making an attempt to get into college period that would leave him in the dust.

On graduation night when Rosalie gets home her dad is drunk. She tells Emmett that if she doesn't come out soon to come in after her. Soon, he comes in to find Rosalie's dad choking her. Emmett stops him and tells Rose to call the police.

Please enjoy the chapter.

"And don't apologize for all the tears you've cried. You've been way too strong now, for all your life. I'm gonna get there soon, you're gonna be there too. Cryin' in your room, prayin' Lord come through. We're gonna get there soon."

~Closer to Love.

~Matt Kearney.

lots. of. love.

PLT!

~AliceSwift

The police showed up about a half hour later.

It's funny how in all of the movies the police will be there in seconds and that rarely happens in real life, but then again in movies it takes you five seconds to get from New York to China.

In the mean time they fought, Emmett and my dad. I was still upstairs and I could hear the crashes, not knowing who was being thrown, and what they were being thrown into. I was packing my bags, not sure why Emmett had told me to do so.

The police asked me what my address was and for my name. Then for Emmett's and my dad's.

My dad was still pretty decent size, had a bit of a beer gut but still had plenty of strength and muscle. He was strong enough to throw full refrigerators at me and Olivia so I don't know what that tells us, probably that he's really strong and has anger issues.

Emmett though, he may not be as big as my dad, he still was healthier, and he had a sharper mind. My dad in his drunken state probably didn't even know when punches were being thrown at him, Emmett, well he would know when to dodge fists and when to let them fly.

"We'll be there in just a few minutes." claimed the cop on the other end as I walked out of my room. "Just remain calm and stay where you are."

I was on my bathroom floor, sobbing. I had cried so many times in here that if the mirrors and toilet had something to say about me it would probably be that I had problems with depression.

I sat up and leaned against the wall. I pulled my knees into my chest and put my head on them. I heard the yells that were being shouted, the things that were being thrown, the words that were being said, the smacks that were flying in every direction.

I lifted my head up and pressed it against the wall, banged it a few times and when I got dizzy I decided that was a bad idea. I turned to look in the mirror that hung on the back of my bathroom door. It had a crack all down it from the time my dad had thrown Olivia into it.

Why was I sitting here, letting my whole body come undone in my own self pity? This wasn't Emmett's fight and my dad was only fighting him because he was in his line of vision. This wasn't Emmett's fight, it was mine.

He hadn't thrown Emmett into the walls, hadn't called him the nasty names that were shouted around here everyday. It wasn't Emmett that had dealt with him everyday for the past four years and it wasn't him that had taken care of Olivia. It was me. I was the one who was told to get my dad beers, only to either pick up the bottles or have them smashed over my head later. I was the one who had huge pieces of furniture thrown at me on a monthly basis. I was the one who put bandages on myself when I got hurt, not Emmett. Since this clearly wasn't a fairy tale, why should I even get a night in armor to save me? I'd rather rescue myself.

"Miss, are you still there?" I heard the cop ask form beside me where the phone lay on the floor.

I looked over and picked it up numbly. "Yeah." My hoarse voice probably scared the woman on the other end.

I let the phone fall out of my hands and land back on the floor.

I sniffled a few times and stood up. I flung open the door and heard the mirror shatter behind me.

I marched down the stairs. Every memory, every emotion and every feeling I had ever felt when my dad hurt me or my sister was running circles in the back of my head. All the times I had asked myself what I had done wrong, every time Olivia told me about her dream life and how it was nothing close to this hell, every time I had put make-up over the cuts and bruises and scars just so I didn't scare people away would come pouring out in this last attempt at an act of vengeance.

The disastrous living room came into view. I saw my dad, he had Emmett pinned in the corner, hands on his neck, Emmett's eyes closing.

I walked into the kitchen and flung open the cabinet doors. I grabbed the biggest skillet my hands found and walked back to the living room.

As I walked I felt like things should be going in slow motion but it didn't. I didn't stroll over to him to some song by Green Day or Fall Out Boy. Because this wasn't a movie, it wasn't something I was watching, it was something I was living, and something I had felt for years but was never able to express.

Now I could.

I ran up behind my dad and lifted my arms up and hit him across the back of his head with the iron skillet. Emmett fell first, not completely to the ground but back to his feet. He shook his head and then saw what was going on. I must've looked crazy. Standing with a skillet over my head and clenched teeth making up my expression. My dress had been torn a bit when my dad had pulled me down the stairs earlier, my tears had ruined my make-up, eyeliner and mascara down to my jawline.

My dad didn't fall yet either he had turned to look at me when Emmett gave him a punch to the side of his head. Somewhere in the back of my mind you think that I would've hope it didn't do any serious damage, but I didn't. He had done serious damage to me for all these years, he could take being deaf in one ear.

My dad landed with a thud, and when he was on the ground I saw that he wasn't exactly out yet. He laughed and called my a name as his eyes closed. I gave him a kick and he didn't flinch then, he was out.

"Are you okay?" Emmett asked, immediately taking me into his arms. I dropped the skillet and it fell to the carpet with a soft noise. His embrace was a comfortable place that I wish I could be in all the time. I had tried on multiple occasions to think of a place better than Emmett's arms, but I couldn't.

"Yeah." I said as I started sobbing into his chest, he stroked my hair. "For now."

The police had just recently hauled my dad away. They had told me that after researching it more they would give me a more finalized sentence, but for right now my dad was facing at least six months in jail. For me that was enough time to get myself together, get Olivia, and get out of this town.

The police drove away and I watched the tail lights fade into the darkness that made up my surroundings. I turned and looked up at Emmett.

"Well, thanks for being here. I don't know if I would have made it out if you weren't there. I better go back clean up." I said and turned away.

He caught my elbow and pulled me back to him.

"You don't want to go back there." he said.

"Obviously, but one of these days he's going to come home, and before that Olivia will, so I have to."

"Not tonight, just come home with me, go get your bag." he said with a smile, it automatically brightened up my disgustingly dark evening. Morning now, it was almost two.

"Okay." I said and then ran into the house. I dropped the blanket that I had wrapped around me in the living room and then walked up to my room. I took the bag from my bed and walked through the house. I turned the lights out as I went and when I made it to the door I locked it and walked out. Emmett was in his jeep, despite the warm summer air that normally filled the air on summer evening was replaced by a cold chill tonight. I opened the door to the back seat and threw my bag down, I slammed the door shut and then got back in the front.

We arrived at his place shortly. He had lived in his own house this whole year. It used to be his brother's but he had moved out and away. Some NFL team had decided to put him on a team. His mom had cleaned it up before she left for England-Emmett's parents were literature professors and had been offered an amazing tour of England, some big grammar snob convention as Emmett put it- in hopes that they would move into it after Emmett moved out. When they moved away he wanted to stay here and finish high school, they had sold their house, but he was staying in this one until he went to college.

I went around to get my bag but he had already gotten it for me. He met me at the front of the jeep and took my hand, the leading me up a cement pathway to his door. He got the key out of his pocket and unlocked it. The air conditioner must've been on because I was overcome with sweep of cold air. He put my bag down by the door and then looked at me. He took me in his arms again and I wondered why it seemed to be so much more drastic now then ever before.

He kissed the top of my head. "I love you." he murmured into my hair.

"I love you too." I said as my head stayed planted against his chest. We stayed like that for a few seconds and then I realized how late it was.

"Um, would you mind if I take a shower here before I go to sleep?" I asked.

"No not at all." he said with a shake of his head.

"Okay, thanks." I said as I reached for my bag, his hand got to it before mine could.

"I got it." he said and smiled.

"Okay." I said and he gestured up the stairs in an after you manner. I walked up the steps and to the bathroom, he caught my arm again. He kissed me softly before disappearing down the hallway.

I took my clothes off then got in the shower, though I didn't wash my hair. I didn't think to bring shampoo and conditioner and I hated the smell of the men's stuff. I did however find a small box of soap bars. I unwrapped the cream colored bar from it's light blue wrap and threw the paper thin cover in the trash.

I let the hot water cascade down my back and the liquid automatically calmed my muscles.

After I was done I got a towel and dried off. I got a little nervous when I realized that Emmett had taken my bag, which had my clothes in it. I wrapped myself in the towel and opened the bathroom to door to find my clothes laying there. My favorite black sweats and and a tee shirt from the Superchick concert I went to back in sophomore year.

I picked them up then went back into the bathroom. I put them on and then shook my hair in the towel quickly, removing any excess water although it would still be wet.

"Emmett?" I said once I stepped out into the hallway.

"I here." I heard his voice coming from his room. I walked down towards it and saw him standing over his bed. His room was surprisingly clean for a boy who's only a senior in high school. It was very mature looking and I wanted to say that it didn't match his fun loving personality, but in a way it did.

"Um, I'm going to sleep downstairs." he said. I glanced at the bed and noticed that he had put my favorite blanket across the top.

My mom made it for me when she was pregnant. It had been my security blanket up until my first day of elementary school, but still I would take it everywhere. I had always slept with it too, even if my mom and I would fight, I slept with it. Really it was a piece of her. I also noticed how it hung over the side of the bed even though it was huge. My mom had made the blanket big enough to fit her when she was pregnant, that way it would always be big enough for me.

"I love you." he said as he kissed my cheek and walked past me to go downstairs.

"Wait." I said just before he went downstairs.

"Yes?"

"Would you stay with me?" I asked, feeling a little insecure about his answer. I played with my finger nails nervously. "I don't really want to be alone tonight."

"Sure." he said with a smile and I was grateful for how amazing it was.

I crawled under the blankets and after he turned off the lights he got behind me. He cradled me in his arms as I replayed the night in my head. Over and over and over on a constant loop filled with pain and anger.

"I'm so sorry Emmett." I said, my voice barely above a whisper, yet surprisingly smooth.

"Don't apologize for anything. You've been put through hell for the past four years, why are you saying sorry?" he said with a bit of anger in his tone.

"Because you weren't supposed to get hurt. I took the punches for all these years, as you said, and I should've handled them tonight." I said back at him, returning the frustration.

"Rosalie you don't have to always be so strong. If you've always been half as strong as you were tonight, then I owe you an apology. I should've realized a long time ago that your dad was like this. You can't be that clumsy." he said and I sighed a short laugh. I had told him, and the rest of my friends, that all the scars were from tripping and falling into things.

"Don't apologize." I whispered, but he couldn't hear me.

"Do you really go through that all the time?" he asked, stroking my cheek.

The choking, the hurt, the crashing. Being thrown into things, having things be thrown at me.

"Yeah, I do." I said with a sigh.

"Rosalie." he breathed. See, my group knew about my dad. How bad his addiction to everything you don't want to be addicted to was. They knew about how angry he could get, but they didn't know about how that anger just turned into violence.

"I know what it feels like." I said. "I know how hard it is to let yourself black out. When you feel his hand on your neck and the wall at your spine. He pushes you against the wall harder, so you start moving up the wall without your mind even telling your body to move. Pretty soon your hanging and your feet aren't touching the ground. Then all you feel is your throat. The lump that feels like it's being pushed from the front back to your spine. You can try to breathe but that would only hurt. Pretty soon your cheeks get hot and your head spins. You start seeing dim colors like yellows and greens, then blues and purples. Then big black splotches, like ink splatters. Your head starts hurting at the top and you can't even wonder why the pain's moved. Then you lose your vision, it gets blurry and then fuzzy and then disappears all together. Then your last thought is your whole body going limp, no more movement until your hit the ground, falling on whatever lay there. You take in a huge gust of air and it hurts your lungs to breathe again. The air feels like poison running in a sleek line down your throat and into your chest. Your head hurts now more than it did before and all you want to do is lay down a recover, but you have to run before he sees you or he'll just do the same again."

"Rose," his thumb came across the moist skin under my eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't have anything to do with you. You were perfect the way you were. A different part of my life that wasn't infected by him. Besides, it was unimportant and didn't concern you." I said back, I had to admit that I sounded a bit hysterical. He turned me around in his arms so that my head could lay on his chest.

"Anything that has to do with you has to do with me, unless you don't want it to. But, please, try to realize when things are bad and you need help. When someone's hurting you, that's when it's time to get help. And I'm not perfect."

"Yeah, you are. Not any guy would've come in and saved me like that." I protested calmly.

"You were the one that took that skillet to him." he reminded me with a smile.

"Yeah but you were a good distraction." I said and smiled back up at him.

"I was wasn't I?" he laughed and kissed my head. There was a short moment of silence. I was ready to go to sleep, but I assumed he was wide awake. Much like I was on my first run-in with my dad. It just keeps playing again and again in your head until you've assessed every possible moment to the best of your ability.

"Just tell me one thing." he said and I murmured a sleepy what in response.

"Was anything ever really bad? Did he ever really get you?" his voice had a chill in it.

I nodded and lifted up my shirt to reveal a scar that stretched across where most people got the appendix taken out, lucky shot I guess. It almost looked normal.

"What did he do to you?" Emmett asked, furious.

"Don't tell him that he shouldn't play with steak knives while he's drunk. He'll deny he's drunk, deny he's playing with a knife, then stab you with it."

"Did you go to the hospital." I didn't answer. "You never went to the hospital when he hurt you." he stated. I couldn't tell the tone of emotion in his voice. He didn't seem mad, nor did he seem to be sad that I hadn't been taken care of. Just, shocked.

"Emmett promise me something." I said as I started to fall alseep.

"Anything."

"Promise me one day, when everything is done and finished here we'll run away. Get away from this place and move somwhere else, just you and me."

"We're gonna get there soon Rose."

I smiled and the conversation died down.

I hoped that he wasn't all that interested in the situation with me and my father.

The relationship that I had with my dad was the epitome of what you would want to be if you're the ninth ring of hell. We used to be perfect. When my mom was alive and my whole family was happy. She seemed to have taken all of the happiness and joy that our family once had with her when she died. A few times, when my dad had gotten really mad at me, I wondered if I would soon get to her and be able to apologize for all the bad things I did or said to or about her.

Sometimes it had gotten so bad that I thought I wouldn't be able to get up the next morning. One day I didn't, only one person knew why I hadn't gone to school that day, and if it wasn't for slip of their finger they might have known at all. They knew the deepest depths of the worst thing my dad have ever done to me, and why that one in particular was so terrible that I couldn't get up the next day. Not to brag, but I do normally get up when I get knocked, pushed, or shoved down. And the morning after, I didn't feel like getting up. I didn't feel like talking, moving, seeing, feeling, hearing, breathing, or even living at all.

Only one person knew why and it wasn't Emmett.

And if he did find out, the very existence of our relationship and what it's based off of would be altered and changed drastically forever.

Hey guys, thanks for reading with me up until this author's note. Please leave me a review telling me what you think may or may not happen in the next chapter, what you thought of this chapter, and what should happen next time we meet up.

lots. of. love.

PLT!

~AliceSwift