By the way, You might want to go back and read the end of last chapter. I changed it quite a bit.

I didn't realize that all it would take for Edward to gain my trust is to sneak through my window at midnight, just to see if I was okay.

One night, after Charlie was done with me, I heard my window creaking as it slowly slid open. I didn't register danger. Honestly, what's the worst that could happen? A murderer? My life sucks anyway. The only reason I haven't committed suicide is because something inside me is telling me not to. I guess a murder would be a solution. If it was a robber, than he could take all he wants, for all I care. Nothing I own is worth anything, anyway. Even if it's just a drunk creep, I think I have a wooden baseball bat under my bed..

I sat up slowly, staring through the dark towards my window. I turned my lamp on, letting the light illuminate the room. I saw him standing there. Edward Cullen. Standing in my room. Staring at me.

"Edward?" I whispered harshly, glancing at the door. "Is that you?"

He didn't answer, looking towards the window. I could see the debate going on inside of him. "Yes," he said eventually.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, glancing again at the door. I was expecting Charlie to burst through the door. Or maybe Jacob.

"I wanted to make sure that you where okay." I blinked.

"Why" I asked, confused.

It was his turn to be shocked. "What do you mean?" He asked carefully.

"I mean," I half-hissed, "why the hell do you care?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, still confused.

"Because you're just some random guy from school that I jut happen to actually talk to." I said, biting my bottom lip.

He just smirked and said, "oh, I didn't realize you thought so little of me." He dropped the smirk. "I need to know, are you okay?"

Was I? No. I wasn't. I knew I wasn't. I knew that I was collapsing under the weight of my crappy life. Despite this, I answered, "yes. Yes, I'm fine." While continuing to gnaw on my bottom lip.

He narrowed his golden eyes. "You're lying." He stated blatantly. I stared at him, my face blank. Then I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? And how do you know this?" I asked, sure that he just got a lucky guess.

At least I held out hope for this theory until he said, "you're chewing you lip." I instantly stopped.

"So?"

"It's you're tell."

"My tell?"

"Yeah, how someone knows you're lying."

"Fine. what's wrong then?"

He blinked. "I don't know. I just know that you're struggling, and that I can help."

"Oh, really? And how do you plan on doing that?"

He was still trying to get me to admit that I'm abused. He keeps randomly throwing it into conversations, hoping to hear what he wants to hear. I'm rather careful though. I have years of experience with this. I know how to hide this type of thing. But I fail that night, and my story comes tumbling out.

I tell him everything. And I mean everything. When I trust someone, I trust them whole-heartedly, and then there are no secrets about me. I tell him how Charlie has abused me since I was five, both mentally, and physically. I show him my cuts and bruises, tell him every detail of m life. I tell him about mom, and how Charlie forces her into stripping, only making her come home to fulfil his needs and abuse her. I keep talking for an hour, spilling my entire life out to a beautiful boy who I've only ever talked to about random things during class. When I finally finished my story, Edward was silent, then without warning, his cold arms where around me, reassuring me. I knew from that moment that I would never find anyone like Edward ever again. I fell asleep I his arms, and woke up hours later, feeling more rested than I had in a long time. Edward was sitting silently in the rocking chair in the corner, staring at me. He had left during the night. His hair was slightly less messy, and he was wearing different clothes, but he had come back. I knew that he would help me. I could literally see my future brightening, which would mean that someone would shut my happy plans down and I would be doomed again. Really, I didn't believe that I would get my happy ending. I just didn't feel like I deserved it.

Yes, I'm still writing Born in 1901, but it's nearly done, so I'm just trying to figure out how to finish it.