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On to the next chapter.
Playlist:
Never Again – Nickleback
Snow White Queen –Evanescence
Ocean Avenue –Yellowcard
From The Inside
The Cullens sat around the family room, sprawled on couches, and propped against walls. It was late, or rather early in the morning. It had been what, three hours since Bella had lead them back to their home? Ha! As if they needed guidance. But she was surprisingly fast for a human, and she did seem to know her way around the forest. Edward pursed his lips, and for the umpteenth time that night, he'd been thankful none of the others had his mind reading abilities. He shuddered to think of what Emmett would do with this kind of blackmail. The taunting, and the teasing, not to mention the silly, overused and overrated jokes he'd pull.
His mind flashed to Bella's face. Her full lips just asking to be kissed and her body- he stopped abruptly, before he drove himself to the point of forcing the girl. Carlisle had been unnervingly quiet, his mind blocked. He wasn't yet sure of what to do, Alice would have seen it; and so would Edward. He breathed out through his nose, drowning out the others overlapping thoughts. This infatuation he had with the girl wasn't right. Quite honestly, he barely even knew her. She was amusing, and horrifically stubborn, honest, and bitingly sarcastic. The only real conversation he had with her was an argument.
Did that even count?
He struggled to stifle a bitter laugh.
He was nearly a century and a decade old. And here he was, worrying about some silly human? He scoffed mentally.
Carlisle pushed himself off a wall, stepping from the shadows in the dark kitchen.
A habit he had picked up while with the Volturri.
"This is a first. I didn't even know there was a legend about me," he said, a small smile on his face.
He walked over to Esme, wrapping both arms around her, and tucking her head under his chin.
She sighed contently, before turning in his arms, and burying herself in his chest.
Rosalie rose to her feet, eyes blazed in anger.
"She knows, though. What are we going to do?" she spit out, disgusted with the very thought.
Emmett bounded to his feet as well, placing a hand on her shoulder meant to calm her down.
"It's not like she suspects us. And even if she found out, I wouldn't mind. I like her, a lot. She's not like most humans," shrugged Emmett, purposefully avoiding Rosalie's glare.
She growled, deep in her chest.
Edward stood up from the couch, looking at Carlisle with panic.
"So what are we going to do with her?" he asked in horror.
Carlisle looked at him, a knowing look in his eyes.
"Nothing. Yet."
-- ---------- --
hit me with your best shot
-- ---------- --
I clambered in through my window, and turned to close it. The sun was beginning to rise, and the aurora fading. I sighed, and anticipation pumped through me, already excited for tonight. I grabbed a red tank top similar to my white one, baggy black cargo pants that dragged on the floor, a thin white zipper sweater, and red and white Reeboks. I made my way towards the shower down the hall, and stepped in fast.
The hot water did what it always did. Loosened the knots in my back, easing tension from my shoulders. I sighed, and leaned against the wall, committing this moment of peace to memory, as they were few and far between. After fifteen minutes or so, I stepped out reluctantly. I pulled a brush through my hair, and blow dried it slightly. I ran my fingers through my chin length bangs, and got dressed. I hopped silently down the stairs, and stopped abruptly.
My dad sat on the couch, his eyes red and bloodshot from drinking, and his jaw set angrily. I pulled a mask of indifference on my face, and braced myself for the beating I knew would come. For a few long moments, he said nothing. Just sat there and glared at me, making the hairs on my neck stand and every instinct I have screamed to run and get the hell out of there. That danger was coming. Danger in the form of my alcoholic dad. He was constantly drinking, to try and recover from Renee. (Don't worry. Later on in the story, Charlie will get better and turn into the Charlie we all know and some love. I just wanted her to have something to relate to to Esme. It's temporary, promise.)
"This morning, I woke up hungry. I get up, go to my daughter's room, and find that she isn't there. Where the hell were you?" his voice dropping low.
I cringed with fear, mentally.
"It's aurora week. I thought it'd be nice to watch this year," I was scared shitless, but I had to turn that fear into a glare.
I can't let him know how much he terrifies me.
I can't.
He stood up.
"You thought it'd be nice, did you?" he mocked. He strode over to her and slapped me across the face.
(Skip to the next bold note if you don't want to see some mild Charlie bashing. I love him too, and it hurts me to write this, but we all make sacrifices.)
I struggle to make sure he doesn't see a bit of the pain I'm feeling.
"You live under my roof for one reason and one alone. You cook, take care of me. Not go gallivanting, parading around like some sort of whore."
That hurt. No, wait. That cut deep.
To think, He'll never know the way his words haunt me.
His hand reared back, ready for another hit.
I take it without a word, falling to the ground as it impacts with my side.
He kicks me, repeatedly.
Black spots invade my vision, and I can feel myself slipping into unconsciousness.
He stops, and leaves.
(You're good. You can read again.)
I hated this.
I wanted to fight back, and at one point in my life, I did.
But it did nothing, just turned it into entertainment for him.
His door slammed shut, and a sob escaped my lips.
I hated feeling weak.
Yet, he was the only one who ever came close.
Times like these are what drive my mind to insanity and suicide. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the tears that enveloped me. What the hell did I do to deserve this? What did I do wrong? I had pretty good grades, I didn't ask for much. I worked at the hospital for money, so I never ask for money. Was I so horrible that my own father hated me? I could feel the sting in my eyes, and I knew that if I didn't get a hold of myself I'd never make it to school. I grabbed my skateboard, and bolted out of the house.
No way in hell would I stick around for round two.
-- ---------- --
jumping to conclusions
-- ---------- --
Bella pushed her way past the crowd, and near the courtyard; which was unusually empty today. The others were there, waiting for her as always. She dropped her bag on the table, before plopping herself down onto the bench, between Tyler and Elliott. Elliott automatically swung an arm around her, and she leaned her heads back into his shoulders. The others were snickering at some joke Stephanie made.
"Man, last night was awesome. But I'm tired," complained Riley.
Bella yawned.
"Yeah, me too. I'm thinking of sleeping through math. Class is so easy, I'll pass with a bird brain. But Elliott's brain will work too, I guess." Se joked, teasing him.
Elliot mock glared down at her, and shrugged his arm off her shoulders.
"If that's how you feel, then fine. I need to go file my nails," he walked away prissily.
A soft, tinkling laugh escaped from Bella's lips, and she struggled to stifle it.
Her laugh drew the attention of the Cullen kids.
Emmett smiled, and walked over to them; and Bella gladly made room for him. He poked her side again, and she winced in pain, but quickly covered it with a fake giggle. He noticed.
"Are you guys going to see it again tonight?" he asked. They nodded.
He turned to Bella.
"Are coming to our house again? To pick us up?" he prodded. She smiled.
"No. I think you can find your way back there," she retorted; trying to ease her into thinking that the way he was scanning over her was just to get a good look, and not to see if there were any sings of bruising.
He mock glared at her, similar to the way Elliott had.
Alice bounded over, sitting across from her.
"Great, then you can come over to our house today," she smiled, "maybe even sleep over!"
Emmett shot her a look when Bella turned away.
"Erm, I don't think so, Alice. My dad will get pissed if I ask on short notice to go to a sleep over," she explained quickly as Alice's face fell. That heartbroken expression lingered.
"But I can come over, if you'd like," the statement sounded more like a question.
Alice bounced in her seat, ecstatic.
"That'd be great! Can you drive?" her words were rushed, hard to understand.
Bella shook her head.
"I'm fifteen. I only have my restricted. Besides, I'm getting my car next week," she sighed exasperated.
"You can ride with us."
"I have detention after school."
"Edward will pick you up; he has to get some parts from the mechanic's anyways."
"I really shouldn't. I can just run, like last night."
"You ran to my house?!"
"I needed the exercise."
Alice looked her up and down, and scoffed.
"He's picking you up, call your dad and tell him we're taking you to see the aurora tonight."
"My dad doesn't need to know."
She would tell her dad she was over at Stephanie's house working on a project. Steph's mom would cover for her; she knew the abuse that went on.
By then, Alice, Emmett, and Bella were walking down the hallways, to their lockers.
Alice stopped short, a blank look crossing her face. Emmett tensed.
"I don't think you should see the aurora tonight, Bella," Edward murmured softly from behind her.
Bella's heart stopped, and picked up double time in a mixture of fright, and happiness.
She scowled.
"I can do whatever I want. And I think I will go see the aurora tonight," she turned around to face him. Her breath caught.
He was standing too close, invading her personal space. Not that she minded, of course.
His gold eyes swirled with anger, and worry; bronze hair ruffled as always.
His eyes focused on his cheek, zeroing in on something. His eyes narrowed.
He lifted his hand up to brush a stray lock, to get a closer look. Bella flinched and backed away; looking at him in horror.
He looked murderously angry.
As in, serial killer angry.
She gulped.
He grabbed her arm in a death grip, dragging her through the hallways. The bell rung above them, but he didn't even glance at it. The hallways emptied, and behind her, she could faintly see the retreating figures of Emmett and Alice. Didn't they know their brother was psychotic? He readjusted his grip, a little softer, moved it lower; before her elbow. She whimpered. His cold fingers had touched a long forgotten bruise, a result of a different beating at a different time. They stood in the middle of long abandoned classrooms.
"Who beats you?" his voice was ragged, and rough; as if he had a hard time to keep from shouting.
A long silence followed.
She couldn't look away. His gold angry gaze locked her in place, and she found that every breath she took was heavy, and seemed to be hard to inhale. A strange mix of fear and anticipation rolled over her, nauseating her. Her vision started to shake, something warm and wet clouded her vision. She heard someone hiccup. What was that? She closed her eyes, trying to blink the tears away. Oh, it was her. Something cold and strong wrapped around her. Comfort radiated through.
"Am I a horrible person?" she choked out between sobs. She felt Edward's breath on her neck.
"No. No one deserves to be beaten. It's not your fault," he dipped his voice low, the epitome of velvet.
"My dad. He doesn't mean to, but it hurts. Oh, Christ it hurts," the tears were pouring down and hard.
She hated feeling helpless and vulnerable.
But, somehow, it didn't seem to matter in front of Edward.
Her mind wandered to when she was younger. Those times when Charlie had come home drunk, and hit her mother. Those times where she had rushed to her mother's defense, and ended up half dead on the floor. There was a time when she had completely lost all faith in people, when she gave in to those feelings of abandonment and dark hatred. When she let them rule over her very life. Tears choked her. The all too familiar urge to scream strangled her; she didn't deserve this. Her chest heaved. What had she done wrong? Did she truly deserve an abusing father? Her lips trembled. Her own mother left her.
Edward's arms tightened around her.
She remembered Stephanie. The way she had understood, the way she helped in anyway she can. Bella pulled away from the memories as if they were poison. She tentatively raised her own arms to Edward's neck. She heard him sigh in relief. She closed her eyes again, breathed in his scent. She swallowed thickly, and the tears seemed to fade. She would have done anything to have this sort of comfort years ago. She pulled away, wiping the dried tear tracks from her cheeks.
"Where the hell have you been all my life?" she laughed weakly as she let her arms drop at her sides.
He held out his hand towards her.
"There's someone I'd like you to meet."
-- ---------- --
relating memories
-- ---------- --
Edward led me to his silver Volvo. I looked at him like he was nuts. Did he really expect me to get in a car with a stranger more or less? Ha. I stood beside the passenger door awkwardly, crossing my arms over my chest. He walked past me, and held the door open for me. He looked at me expectantly, and I looked at him pointedly. Insert awkward silence phase. Damn.
I hate awkward silences.
"Is this the part where I get into a car with a nearly perfect stranger?"
"No, this is the part where you get into a car with a friend, or else said friend will just shove you into the trunk."
"Ah. Sorry, I got the scripts confused," I glared.
"Oh yes, I'm sure you're a great actress," He bit out through clenched teeth.
"Of course I am.But, then again, I'm not the one shoving unwilling persons in their trunk; mobster."
He looked at me incredulously, and gently placed hands at the small of my back; pushing me towards the seat.
It was starting to rain, and I'd rather die then let my bag get wet.
At least, that's what I kept telling myself. Because there was no way that I had actually allowed Edward to push me into his car.
I was barely wet, and a wind came at me, I reasoned. The shiver that had passed through me had come from the chill; not from the feel of his hands against my back. But did it really explain that trail of heat his hands had left? Or why my heart rate stopped, and picked up double time? It doesn't matter. It's not like I have a crush on Cullen, of all people. The engine purred to life, and I couldn't look at him.
Because for the first time in my life, I wasn't so sure anymore.
Holy fucking damn.
I never really got a good look at his house; but it's huge. I gulped. No car was in the driveway, and the house looked completely deserted. I glanced at Edward. His hands were clutching the steering wheel, as if trying to keep himself from doing something. I looked away quickly. He shifted the gear in park, and I eagerly stepped out of the car. Alone with him in such close proximity, damn was that nerve wracking.
As we neared the door, Esme came into view.
She led us, or rather me, inside.
(I personally think I suck at descriptions, so just read Twilight for it. Oh, and I'm only posting this once; seeing as how it's obvious I don't own anything, just the plot.)
We sat down in the dining room, the formality of it frightening me.
I am a klutz.
"Edward, how many times do I have to tell you to stop skipping school? You need your education," she scolded lightly.
He snickered, and smiled at her sheepishly.
"Sorry, Mom. You remember Bella right?" He gestured towards me.
She turned, and smiled brightly.
"How did he drag you into skipping with him?" she said lightly.
I ducked my head down, my eyes tracing patterns on the table.
"That what I want to know."
Edward shifted, and leaned forward to hold her hand between both of his.
"Mom, Bella's dad is easily angered with her. And while he is drunk most of the time-"
"He beats the crap out of me."
Edward threw his hands up in exasperation, and leaned back in his chair.
"I was trying to put it delicately, but you. You're unbelievably blunt and honest. Has anyone ever told you that? Most would be too traumatized to admit, much less say it out in the open. Amazing," he ranted.
What the hell?
Esme looked at me sorrow and pain in her eyes.
Not with pity.
That one thing I hated seeing when people found out the truth. Pity wasn't something I wanted, nor something I needed. It was like an automatic reaction that I learned to shy away from, and when that didn't work, I learned to beat the crap out of. When people looked at me like that, it reminded me of my mom. My mom was always full of self pity. My mom was selfish, though she did try to protect me sometimes. I briefly remembered the times when my mother snuck out to the hospital. Leaving me behind.
(No Renee bashing, honest. I love Renee too, but, once again, Bella has to have a dark past. And Renee isn't really going to appear in this story.)
"My ex-husband was abusive."
I looked at her heart shaped face, twisted in remembered pain.
"All my father could think of was of the advantages it would have brought to my family. But I never liked him; though most girls my age would have killed to be me. But what could I have done? I loathed the idea of losing my father's love over some bit of stupidity as this. And what could go wrong? I'd have a home, a family, and protection. That's all I could ever ask for in life, right?
"So when he proposed, I said yes. What other answer was there? We had a spring wedding; oh, how I loved my wedding dress. It was beautiful, but somehow, I wasn't happy. There were these little moments where I would feel self-conscious, and look around at the people nearest me. I'd take in their happy, excited faces and wonder why I had to fake my own? The wedding night came, and went. Weeks into our marriage, he started drinking. He started hitting.
She paused, looking at me.
"It didn't matter whether that he hit harder when he sober, or drunk. It didn't matter. All in all, it still hurt. And when someone that close to you hits you like that, it will always hurt. I was married to him for three years, and even that was long enough. It escalated to the point where I constantly questioned my worth, my way of life, and whether or not I was still the same person underneath all the lies that people so blindingly believed. Eventually though, I found out I was pregnant. No matter how hard I pleaded, how much I begged, he still hit. And I lost the baby.
"I ran from the home, and threw myself off a cliff. And a nearby hospital put me in a morgue, but somehow my heart was still beating. Carlisle was doing rounds, checking the bodies, when he found me. He brought me back. It took some time, and he was patient. But I grew to love him, and eventually to trust him. It only takes a good person to help. If it weren't for Carlisle, I would indefinitely be dead."
My thoughts whirled, and I found that somewhere in the middle, I had leaned forward listening eagerly. Could there really be someone that can relate to me? Someone who had gone through the same, and had survived and now lived a happy life? I was getting dizzy. Too much at once. I don't think I can handle it. The air grew heavy, and it choked me to the point where it hurt to breathe. I stared numbly at Esme. And then it sunk in.
They knew.
Someone other than Stephanie knew about my dad.
And worse off, they were probably going to tell Dr. Cullen.
And who knows who else.
I stood up, knocking the chair down in the process.
My face had gone pale; I could feel the heat leave my head.
Esme looked bewildered, and stood up next.
Edward looked worried; and looked up startled at Esme.
I backed away.
They knew. They knew.
Because I had told them.
-- ---------- --
run away never say goodbye
-- ---------- --
I stumbled towards the driveway, and stopped. I walked calmly away from the house, purposefully swerving away from the Volvo. I jogged, and then picked up full speed in a run. I turned to my right, running alongside the road. After I made it a mile or two away, I pulled out my cell. It should be lunchtime over at school. I scrolled down my contacts, dialing Steph. She wouldn't ask any questions, she'd know I'd tell her soon.
"Hola, skipper."
"Yeah, I need you to pick up my car."
"…"
"What in hell did you do now, dearie?"
"Fucking trashed your house. None of your damn business. Just- can you get my car or not?!"
"Yeah. Where to?"
Steph sounded gruff.
"Ocean Avenue."
Curses.
"At this rate, I don't want to know. Wait ten minutes."
"Hurry."
I shut off my phone.
I used to hate the fact that Forks was practically all forest.
Now, I couldn't be more thankful for it.
I leaned against a tree trunk, banging my head against it. My mind was still reeling from the past day's events. I couldn't believe I allowed myself to slip. This whole day just keeps turning more and more messed up. I was going insane, there was just no way. If my dad ever found out- I broke away from the thought. I heard a rustle in the leaves, and I broke off running. I tried to tell myself it was because I wanted to get to my car already, not because I was scared. I wasn't scared of anyone, or anything, in my lifestyle, there wasn't any room for fear. So why was I suddenly trembling with it?
I made it to the abandoned street.
This part of town had been abandoned, during the Salem Witch Trials, during which Washington were primary sources for raids.
The place was said to be haunted, no one dared set foot in this part of town.
In a pool of light, stood her car. Stephanie was far too superstitious was more likely to cuss her ass out the second she returned. Stephanie's ancestors had been hung in the Witch Trials, as some ancestors were French. Stephanie was always terrified of this part of town, seeing as some were even burned at the stake here.
(Not true. I'm only including this in the story because I might do a spin off about Stephanie and her ancestors. Review if you want it, Though I might post it anyways, so be on the look out).
Hell, she even avoided fortune tellers.
Once when we were thirteen, one of them had even guessed her ancestry; went so far as to tell her that it was her that had been burned at the stake, and hanged on Gallows Hill in past lives.
Stephanie had been freaked out ever since.
I glanced around quickly, making sure no police around.
Technically, I wasn't supposed to have a car.
And technically, I wasn't supposed to do a lot of things. Never mattered before, but if the police caught me, I'd be reported to my dad, Chief Swan. And I was sore enough from this morning's beating. I sauntered over to my blackish blue Honda Accord. I slid in the driver's seat, admiring my black leather seats, and leaning over to turn on my stereo. I threw the gear in drive, and sped down the avenue, the engine purring quietly.
I drove onto the highway, trees fading, flying past. The pavement ended, and with it a trail begun.
-x-
She stepped out of her car, shoulders trembling with restrained emotion, she was losing control. Something she couldn't ever afford to lose. Small, choked sobs sounded from her lips; few and far in between. She hated it. She bit down hard on her tongue, trying to stop the shaking. She couldn't stand it. She didn't need this. More people who knew, more people to avoid familiarity with. She slipped up again, and there wasn't any room for that. What was she to do with the Cullens? They knew too much, and she couldn't just pick up and leave she would have done two years ago. She had broken one of her few rules.
She had gotten familiar.
Too familiar.
She cursed. If she had been thirteen, this would have been no problem. She would have severed all ties to this town completely, and picked up and hauled ass. But she had gotten too attached. Her thirteenth year had been her best. She had finally achieved perfect control, and aloofness. She had been cold, and cruel; perfect if you were constantly on the run. But she threw it all away, and broke her rules.
Of course, at the time, she though tit was done.
Thought it was over, that running wasn't necessary anymore.
And now the worst had come.
And she wasn't prepared for it.
She walked around to her trunk, popping it open and taking out her arrows. Relief flooded through her as she saw she was smart enough to wear comfortable running clothes. At least she did something right today. She treaded lightly through the trees, hunting small game. Hunting season had opened last week, and she had to beat that damn Newton family. But then again, if she hunted a big piece of game, and it outweighed Newton's, that strategy would beat them too. A deer stood off to the side of a clearing, eating grass silently.
Opportunity's knocking.
And she just might get the door.
The excitement made her giddy. But she had to be careful, cautious. Or else she'd lose the slight edge, her advantage. She drew back the arrow, tensing the muscle, her shoulders bunching back with the effort. Steadied it, keeping her eye on the target, she drew until her thumb hit her chin. If she overdrew, the fatigue would come sooner. She let go, the arrow whizzing by with only a whisper of a sound. A heavy thud reached her ears, seconds after the arrow hit its mark. She took out a small camera, took the image, and tugged the arrow gently out. The deer, twitched, and stood up; running away. Se sighed, and leaned away.
The strain and fatigue was getting to her.
Her shoulders began to ache, while her muscles trembled and throbbed.
Another deer. She could take one more draw. She had to. Her arms shook with the effort, and she couldn't aim quite right. She grit her teeth in frustration. She tried to steel her arms, they only shook worse. She tried to push through the pain, force her way past it, and give what little strength she had left. Dammit, she couldn't do it. The strength in her body wasn't enough. But she'd take the shot anyway. Her arrow flew, wobbling off course, and struck a tree a foot away lightly. Not even enough for it to stay in place. The deer fled. She blew out a breath in frustration.
It was time to rest.
She sat down on a trunk, taking out a bag of chips from her arrow bag.
She loved sour cream and onion lays.
An hour passed, and she finished the family sized bag. So what if she a bit selfish? Her arms were still sore, but she had gotten some feeling back in them. Some of her strength had returned, and she thought she still had a shot or two left before she headed back to that hellhole of a home. She packed her stuff, and picked up her bow and arrow, once again threading through the trees. Small rocks shook at her feet, and she bent down, eyeing them curiously. She headed up farther, standing at the crest of a hill. Down below a herd was running.
She wouldn't hunt them.
She didn't have it in her to ruin such a moment. That's when she heard it.
Beneath the heavy thud of hooves, someone was screaming.
She whirled around, ready to pick up and follow the trail.
Red eyes peered at her, hungry and dangerous.
She froze.
The worst had come.
And she wasn't even ready for it.