Stolen

By: Skyela Rickman-Walters

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own any of the Twilight Saga. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer. They only thing I own is the story plot and a few original characters I have created.

A/N: First and foremost, I must thank you all for all the wonderful reviews I received. I can't thank each of you enough--every time I got a review in, it would give me the motivation to get the next chapter out. So thank you so much! Let's do it again, keep it up with the GREAT reviews guys!!! I love you all so much!!!!!!! Please read, enjoy and review! :)

Chapter 11: The End of the World

Bella's POV

Mid October 2006

"Bella?"

Her voice chirped softly, pulling me out from my lull. I had been staring at one particular knot in the wooden fence, putting shapes to it. So far, I had discovered that all the knots, doubled together, reminded me of a different pair of eyes staring down at me as though they were pitying me from a distance. I rattled my head and looked over to where Bren was waving her head in front of my face. She gave me a timid smile before shifting her weight from right to left.

"You okay?"

I adverted my gaze back towards the fence; I could feel my heart beating with the war infected hollow of my chest, the swell of it making it hard to enjoying breathing. "I'm fine."

Bren raised an eyebrow giving me a skeptical gaze. "Do you know what fine means?" she asked after a few moments of listening to some neighborhood kid ringing the bell on his bike. I didn't care to answer, but Bren took my silence as an affirmative. "F-I-N-E. It means, Fucked-up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional." She gave me a pointed look, her eyes boring into the side of my head.

I had to give her an befuddled look back, because foul language was definitely on Bren's naughty list—she must not care that much anymore either. Staring her straight in the eye, I gave a nod. "I'm fine."

Bren chuckled a bit and turned to begin to dig again. "In that case," she mumbled, giving me one of her playful grins—even though I had no idea how she had it in her to still find time to smile—"I'm just fine myself…"

We were very close to our freedom. We had gotten the board to move side to side about a month ago, but we then realized that we needed more room underneath. So, we had gone out through the yard and into Tilly's old garden and pulled out all the large rocks we could find. We strewed them around in front of the fence so that the large pile in front of the hole wouldn't be too obvious. It added an odd strange but "homey" touch. Now it didn't so much remind me of a prison yard. Other than the fact that we were prisoners.

I paused in my digging to take the opportunity to look up at the luminescent moon that was showering ivory light around us; Bren and I were only allowed in the yard between the hours of seven and nine in the evening—it was too much of a risk for us to be allowed out during daylight, despite the overly large fence that no one could peek over. On our first peek out, we had tried to decipher where we were, but it was too dark and you couldn't really see the road from where we were situated. I found myself remembering how when I was a small child, I used to believe that if you could no longer see the moon, you were lost—never to find your way home. Even now, as I stared at the dark shadows that were scattered along the moon's surface, I couldn't help but contradict my old beliefs and wonder if the ones I loved so much, were looking up upon the bright orb that filled the night sky. Even the stars twinkled brightly, beckoning me homeward bound.

Vince would usher us in like barn animals once the clock struck nine. Some nights he would lead me to his bed and I would shut my eyes, separating my soul from my body, as I had done so many times before. I would float like a tiny see-through bubble, to the highest corner of the room and wait. Sometimes I would watch myself, watch my body sprawl helplessly across the bed like a limp ragdoll. I would glare at Vince irately, wanting more than anything to push him away from my tortured, inert form. And then after the deed was finished, after Vince would crawl onto his side of the bed, my soul would flood with a sickly panic and I would wonder if I could even possibly return to my body after everything that had just happened. How I managed to return every time, I would never know. It just so happened, that every morning afterwards I would awaken, my body battered and bruised, aching and sore and be forced to begin again and pretend that the night before had never happened. That was my job: to forgive and forget.

Bren so rarely got to be with Vince in that way; that was one thing I was grateful for, but it was also something I envied very much. I envied that Vince didn't like Bren the way he was so infatuated with me. But I was relieved that he didn't put Bren through the pain and torture that I had to endure nearly everyday—how thankful I was for that.

We almost made it through the fence—we were so close, Bren and I reminded me of two people racing towards the finish line, just breaths away from the end.

"Tonight's gonna be the night," Bren whispered to me excitedly, passing me a sudsy dish. I rinsed it off and towel dried it, my face—although excited at the news—void of any happy emotion. I couldn't help but feel a stab of guilt to my little Charlie who would never see the outdoors, would never know the love I still felt for him. I gave Bren a small nod and placed the dish into the rack along with the others. Bren gave a happy little bounce, her face hopeful…blissful even.

"Come on, Bella!" she cried, clasping a hand over my shoulder and giving me a good shake. "We get out tonight during Vince's happy hour—and we'll be free! We'll run to the closest house, bang on their door and scream like no one can hear us. And then we can finally go home!"

Home. Home was a place that wasn't real anymore. Home was a distant memory, that so rarely now filled my dreams. Home was a place I so desperately wanted to be…but was so afraid to find myself there. I was frightened…mostly of the confrontation—the stares, the pity I would receive. But mostly I was frightened of that empty void that would be missing if I returned. Edward wouldn't be there, crooked smile etched into his face like warmth from the sun. The Cullens just wouldn't be there…they had no reason to be, I guess.

I could feel myself leaving my body again and this time I didn't even know why I had began floating away. My eyes tightened, focusing on the tiniest detail of the fine china and like that, I was gone, watching Bren shoot worried glances at my expressionless, deadened face.

"Bella?"

I looked at Bren, blinking my eyes as I tried to remember how exactly I had made it to the living room. Bren shifted uncomfortably on the couch, playing with the toe of her sock. Her long, tangled brown hair fell limp in the middle of her back, filling out her pale, thin face. I hadn't notice how frail she had become during these last couple of months. I instantly felt guilty for letting her get so thin—even though I couldn't think of a coherent reason as to why it was my fault. Seeing that I was now watching her, Bren bit her lip and stumbled to continue.

"If—well—when we get out of this…place…will we still, you know…" she trailed off, unsure of what else to say. I watched her, but trying to pull the words from her mouth was like pulling taffy, even though I already knew what she was trying to say. Bren cleared her throat and raised her head, suddenly holding much more confidence within the tired hollows of her face. "Will you stay in touch?"

"Yeah." I said it before I could even think it; how could I not want to stay in touch? Bren had been there with me, through nearly everything. Hell, if I found out Olivia had been brought home safely, I'd find her—if it was the last thing I would do, I would find her. And if I was found before Olivia was, I would tell the police, tell anyone who would listen everything I knew about her. I felt obligated to help my two friends who I had grown very much attached to—they were a part of me as much as my parents were, as much as Jake….as much as Edward still was… I blinked once and looked down at the carpet, toeing the soft rug. "Of course I'd stay in touch."

A breath of a smile breathed across Bren's face, causing the ghostly hollows to disappear just for a single moment. "Good," she said quietly, her eyes now meeting mine. "'Cause after all of this, I don't think I could function properly without you in my life. It's a special thing—we're bonded for life because of this, you know."

A smile crossed my face too. "Yeah—we kind of are, aren't we?"

And we were—there was really no one else I could think of that I would talk to about my absence. Bren had been there—she had journeyed on the same journey, she had felt little Charlie move about in my belly, she had touched his soft head, she had listened to my cries and she had talked me out of every irrational thought that had crossed my mind. I sighed; no one from my old life would know about my little boy—not my dad, nor my mom…not even Jake would ever know about him. He was a secret that was Bren's to share—and quite possibly Olivia's as well.

The door slammed open from the front, rattling the windows so hard, the curtains vibrated. Bren and I jumped off the furniture soundlessly, flitting into the hallway. We weren't allowed to sit on the furniture while Vince wasn't home. Now was the time to be good and to be seen, but never heard.

Bren followed me as I rounded the corner, mentally preparing myself for Vince's indifferent smile. But I stopped, my foot freezing in midair. Bren bumped into my back, but I heard her gasp in surprise as well.

Vince stood there in the doorway, but another man stood there too—and this man looked dangerous. From what I could see, his eyes were shadowed and dark, like angry dark pits that swallowed up everything in its path. They made you not want to look at him for too long, in fear of being swallowed up too. The man's face was scraggly and streaked with graying hair and his clothes were not the most appealing I had seen. But for some reason my heart dropped (and I knew Bren's dropped too) at the sight of him. I pushed Bren back so that we could distance ourselves behind the wall. I brought a finger to my lips and clutched her hands in mine.

"…damn it, Paulo—why would Roland do such a thing?" Vince was saying, his voice terrifying me to the core; I had never heard him sound so angry before—he sounded like he had committed the most horrible crime.

"Roland?" Bren mouthed to me, her brow furrowing. That name struck a chord in my mind. Roland…. My jaw dropped in sudden realization. Roland? What did Roland do?

"…damned hillbilly," the man named Paulo hissed, his dangerous, uncouth eyes flickering as they licked the walls of our personal prison. "I knew it was unwise to entrust him, Vincent. It's all over the news—thank God he hasn't told 'em where they are yet!"

Bren's fingernails were suddenly embedded into my forearm. I turned to look at her enthused expression. "We won't have to dig out after all!" she mouth, shaking my arm with unashamed excitement. "They're going to find us!"

We're going home…I pinched my forearm with my thumb and forefinger just to make sure I wasn't asleep—but it stung just as much as Bren's tight grip. Forgotten tears welled up behind my eyes, stinging them with a strange but oddly familiar tingle. We're going home!

"And Matilda?" Paulo snapped, his voice thrumming like a melodious harp. I was so dazzled for a moment, listening to the chords of his resonating voice, that I almost missed what Vince was saying.

"…she didn't understand why I loved Isabelle so—she was envious of her, so she took the kids and left." The men exchanged looks. "No, I don't think she would turn us in. If anything, she'd be running when she finds out—she in just as much trouble as we are."

"Where is your Isabelle?" Paulo purred, sending cold chills down my spine. "She said that it was time."

She? I wondered, giving Bren and empty look. Tilly? Or someone else?

"Girls!" Vince's voice shouted, his voice cracking like a taught wire; he didn't even seem to care that the door was wide open. "ISABELLE!"

I pulled myself to my feet, unclasped Bren's fingers away from mine and shuffled out from our hiding place. I could feel every pulse of blood as it was being pumped through my veins, I could hear every little sound, every hum of electricity. But it was like I couldn't see—it was like I was seeing through someone else's eyes. Fear had settled within me, as the sudden truth sank deep; something was not right.

"Isabelle," and Vince grabbed me with a cool hand, his thumb stroking my chin with so much desire, I wanted to hurl, "something terrible has happened. We are leaving now."

I could feel my brow furrow in surprise. What had happened? Were the police on their way? Should I struggle to keep myself grounded until they get here? "Why?" It was very wrong of me to question Vince's plans.

Vince didn't answer; instead he reached out and grabbed my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. I didn't resist, fearing that it would be worse if I were, but as I stumbled towards him, I took saw the man named Paulo more clearly.

He looked Latin, or possibly Italian, I couldn't be sure—except for the fact that his face was very pale—and his eyes—those vicious, pit-like eyes—

I yelped, struggling to pull away from Vince with all my might as I stared at Paulo, the urge to vomit stronger than ever. What was he playing at? Was Vince crazy? Was I just seeing what I wanted to see? Was my heartache at loosing everything I had ever loved causing me to go insane?

And then, it happened all so quickly after that. Vince, twisting my arm roughly—Bren launching out from her spot on the floor, desperate to aid me as I struggled in his arms. And Paulo—the lethal, red eyed vampire—plucking Bren up as though she were a gentle daisy and slamming her into the far wall. The full body mirror crashed to the floor, glass shattering into tiny, jagged pieces. I could feel myself screaming as Vince's grip tightened around me, but I couldn't hear a sound; there was this foreign buzzing sound within my ears that was muting everything around me. Vince's large, sweaty palm found my lips and clamped down around my scream to diminish the mute sound.

It all happened so quickly, so surely, it was as though I could only watch the horror happen before my eyes. I could feel my lips moving, shrieking, "Bren!" over and over again, watching her tiny chest rise and fall as she struggled to breath sweet air. I reached for her, struggling furiously in Vince's arms, so hard, that he was grunting loudly trying to restrain me.

But Bren just lay there, face slack as though she were lost in thought, her eyes glazing over as though she had been momentarily stunned. Blood was beginning to pool from underneath her hair, red and sticky, its irony smell causing my stomach to churn almost instantly. My eyes flashed to Paulo, and I began to writhe harder in Vince's arms, frantic to save Bren—to save her as she would have saved me. God, please God! Not her, not her!

Vince's strength was too much for my fervid attempts; he clamped his fingers tighter across my screaming mouth and easily lifted me off the floor, my legs still lashing out as if I were running in midair. I found my eyes now staring at the indent within the wall of Bren's slight form, the broken boards that had crumbled to the floor along with her broken body. My arms still remained outstretched as though I could pull Bren with my mind—as thought I could reach her and save her in some way.

My vision stung as the sunlight kissed my face for the first time in eight months. My eyes began to water by the brashness of the light and my skin tingled with unfamiliarity. My vision blurred strangely as I watched Paulo kneel beside Bren, his long fingers running through her bloody hair…I chopped down hard on Vince's rough hand as he swung me around towards the car, the trunk open and ready.

And then I noticed the house across the street as Vince tossed me into the trunk. Though the house looked different—white paint touching up the finish and a swing set in the front—the house looked very familiar. As I began to take in more of my surroundings, I realized too, that the entire street looked familiar—I had been here once before!

Each house etched deep within my old memories, the street I had rode my bicycle on day after day as a young girl. I could feel Vince binding my wrists and ankles together, and my voice rang through the day like a foghorn. "HELP ME! I'M HERE, I'M—"

My shrill scream was cut short—Vince stuffed a wad of cloth into my mouth and squeezed my jaw tightly between his fingers; it hurt, but this pain was nothing compared to everything I had endured. My voice had been taken once more from me, but my brain was still screaming, euphoria still blazing through my veins. Someone had to have heard me, or maybe even seen me, I was sure, but Vince closed the trunk nonetheless.

ARIZONA! My mind roared, delayed and bitter relief washing through me like a tidal wave sweeping across a nation. I don't think I could have screamed it any louder out loud. I'M ON THE STREET I GREW UP ON!!!

***

Alice's POV

Same time as Bella's epiphany

My eyes narrowed in, my vision whooshing me away from this present time and into someone else's. I was vaguely aware of Jasper's soothing hand clutching mine, or Emmett's constant, "Alice? What is it? What are you seeing?"

It was Bella again—and she was staring across the way at a white house with a bunch of cactus plants strewn through out the yard. The whole world seemed to spin as I saw the world through her eyes, and then—as loud as alarm bells, perhaps even louder than a siren, I heard her. I heard her scream, I watched some neighbors peer out their windows, suspicion evident in their eyes. For the first time since her disappearance, I heard what I had been waiting to hear…

I watched Edward's head snap up, his eyes narrowing in on mine in silent relief, but the look that crossed his face was much more rewarding than happiness.

"Arizona…" I mumbled, rattling my head a bit, trying to get rid of Bella's head-splitting shriek. If vampires could get headaches, I was sure that would have been one. For a moment I could have sworn that I felt my beatless heart race within its cavity. I looked around at Carlisle and Esme, Emmett and Rose, Jasper and finally Edward, my mind spinning excitedly as I jumped out of the chair. "She's in Arizona!"

"What the hell are we waiting for then?" Edward sprung from the couch like a lion on the attack. There was something truly terrifying about the blazing excitement that had been gone from his eyes for so long. "Some guy just turned himself in for shipping her somewhere—let's go now!"

And then, realization hit as I remembered the most important part of my vision—other than Bella's voice. I gave him a pained look. Biting my lip, I watched as Edward crumbled back into the couch in disappointment. "Of course…" he grumbled, shooting me a dirty look as though all of this was my fault—as if my vision had happened too late. "She won't be there when we get there…"

It hurt to watch my family crumble as one; each on of them curled into themselves like a dying plant, wilting in the scorching heat. I racked my brains, trying to think of anything that could help us, anything that we could do to help Bella before something else happened. And then it hit me, just so easily.

"But we can still do something," I said, my index finger stroking my chin thoughtfully. "C'mon," I waved my hand, beckoning my family inward. "We've got to get to Charlie's."

***

Bella's POV

?

Sometime, between there and now, I became unconscious. I don't know if it was due to lack of oxygen or from screaming myself hoarse, a brilliant white light flashing across my vision and cutting off everything I once knew. I woke up, curled up in the corner of some room, completely stark naked, goosebumps covering my entire body. I shivered, pulling my legs up into my chest and lifted my aching head off the wooden floor. There was a pile of clothes by my head, white long flowing fabric and something that looked like a head wrap. Something creaked from across the room, and I instantly curled up, defending my body in the only way I knew possible.

"It's okay." It was a girl's voice. I looked up to see a pretty strawberry haired girl watched me from a doorway. The room we were in was empty, other than us and the clothes. She gave me a careful smile, adjusting the scarf that was wrapped around her hair. She slowly inched towards me and knelt down just feet away from me. "You need to get dressed. We'll be going shortly."

I blinked, my eyes feeling strangely dry and separated from the rest of my body. My limbs felt stiff, as though I hadn't moved in days. "Where are my old clothes?"

"He took them away," the girl replied, reaching out to smooth out the white fabric that I was to wear. "You need these now." Her eyes flashed back towards the doorway before looking at me again. "Let me help you."

The girl helped dress me; I didn't make any attempt to stop her—my body felt as though I had been in limbo for a very long time. She slid sandals onto my dirty feet and gave me a weary smile as she adjusted the scarf so that it covered most of my face. "There." She paused and brushed soft fingers across my forehead. "My name is Grace. Yours?"

At first I couldn't speak. My throat closed itself around my long forgotten voice and I struggled to find peace within myself. A war was raging inside me; the light of hope was being shattered by the surrounding darkness that was constantly my little raincloud.

And then I spoke. "My name is Isabelle." I didn't stutter, I didn't cry as I came to realize this horrible truth. It just what was now. And then the cold encompassed me, holding me tight within his grasp, whispering sweet nothings and fond words into my ear. I blinked and a tear slid down my cheek. "I mean…" I swallowed and tried to speak the truth. "My name is…Isabella…its Bella." Strange how hard it was to admit the truth.

Grace cupped my cheek within her hands and held my face. "We must be going now Bella." And she took my hand and led me out into the harsh light of day for the second time—it wasn't necessarily sunny; I winced as though I had been burned and shadowed my eyes with my hands. Grace clasped hands with another girl, and I heard her mumble, "Emma," as she did so. As my clouded vision cleared and I was able to see many girls, dressed in the way we were. I was numb was I peered around, trying to remember who I was, trying to dig deep and hold on to the distant hope that was slowly evaporating, like water going into the sky.

I caught someone's eyes in the crowd; someone who was not one of us. She was older—I don't know if she was even supposed to be in the surrounding area, but she was there. Her friend reminded me—with a sharp pang of hurt—so much of Jake…even her eyes reminded me of the warmth Jacob had once showered me with. My hand clutched my heart and I stumbled; as I stumbled, the scarf fell from my head, revealing my face to the woman at the corner.

We didn't know where we were going, or why we were going there. A cold hand gripped my arm and I started to find the vampire named Paulo lift me up into the cattle car. He gave me a bone chilling grin, and I wished for a moment that I was immortal so I could rip his head off for draining Bren clean of her precious blood. I heard Grace mumble something about Paulo's eyes and I heard Emma whimper. I looked back to where the woman had been watching, but her spot was vacant; the woman and her friend were gone.

I sighed, shivering despite the heat. Clutching my arms into my body, I nearly fell to the ground as the cart lurched forward, taking us to our destination.

I was now and forever, always Isabelle.

A/N: Alrighty! This is it! The big finale will be on its way--not the next chapter, but quite possibly the chapter after that. And then, I will set off to work on Speak, the sequel :) So keep up the reviews, and you WILL get a chapter next week. No reviews, no chapter. You people are amazing and I want to see the same number of reviews for this as there were for the last chapter. Okay? Now get set, ready and GO REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

All my love,

Skye