Chapter 6: Bella

Bella's POV:

I fluffed my hair up one last time, and grabbed my bag as I headed down the stairs.

"Bella, you aren't going out like that." Charlie said as I passed the kitchen. Without even looking at him, I raised my middle finger and flipped him off, continuing out the door.

"If your boyfriend wasn't Jacob, you would be grounded!" he yelled before the door slammed shut. I rolled my eyes as I walked down the sidewalk towards my black Mustang GT, when a Volkswagen Rabbit pulled up quickly. I gulped as the driver's door swung open.

"Where were you yesterday?" Jacob roared, jumping out of his car and grabbing a hold of my forearm. He pulled me into the forest, out of view. I flinched and tensed at his grip.

"Calm down." I tried to say. His grip was hard, and his nails were digging into my skin. It was beyond uncomfortable.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"I was sick in bed. My phone was off." I whispered. My body tensed, preparing what was coming next.

I fell to the ground, and my cheek burned as his hand collided with my cheek. I hissed in pain, and squinted my eyes shut, waiting for more.

"Always...answer...me." he said as his foot collided with my stomach. The breath was knocked out of me as my chest heaved, and I buried my face in the forest floor, clenching my teeth as my body throbbed with pain.

"See you tonight, Sweetheart." Jacob called as he walked back to his car and took off. I heaved myself up off the floor and made my way towards my car. I flopped into the seat and rolled the hem of my band t-shirt up, tracing the outline of the giant purple bruise that was beginning to show. I put down my shirt and pulled the visor down, looking in the mirror at my cheek. I grumbled as I saw the light blue mark, fading to red. I quickly took out my foundation and reapplied it over the mark. I was still sore from his last beating, and I didn't need any more marks.

Things had started like this when my mother had left us. It was one of those, "Hey, this is the guy I'm cheating on your father with. We're going to ditch you and have a life together. See ya!" and she disappeared from the face of the earth. I guess I couldn't exactly say it was a bad thing. My mother was irresponsible, she never took care of me, and she might have even been on drugs. It was a good thing she was gone.

But, why did it hurt so bad?

I guess just standing in the middle of the living room, looking at the man who tore my life apart, my family apart, was over-the-top. But as he smiled at me, and tried to act like everything was all right, I knew that it wasn't...and never would be.

I was 6 at the time.

When I was 15, I met Jacob. I had played with him when we were little, since our fathers were friends, but we hadn't talked much before then. He was great, at first. He helped me keep my mind off of what happened with my mother. But it all changed.

The first time he hit me was when I spilled beer on his new shirt at a party.

He went to school on the reservation, and all of his buddies were over for a party. I had had a couple drinks, and I was a little dizzy, and ended up tripping and spilling it on him. He had hit me right there, in front of his buddies. To say I was shocked, would be an understatement. But I had reluctantly pushed it aside, using the excuse that he was drunk. The second time he had hit me, I blamed it on his frustration for everything going on. The third time, I blamed it on an accident. But as the beatings became more regular and harder, I ran out of excuses for him. I had finally excepted that I was in a living hell, and there was no way out.

He threatened to kill Charlie if I told him. As much as I talked back to Charlie, cussed at him, and disobeyed him...he was all that I had left. I had no friends, no other family...and I was all that Charlie had. I covered my true feelings with my attitude. I would rather not deal with them at all...if I hid them, I could pretend like they weren't there. And if they weren't there, I could pretend there wasn't a reason for the feelings. Even if I told Charlie, there was no way he would believe that Jacob, the golden boy, would lay a hand on me. That option of escape was out.

And Jacob threatened to kill me if I left him.

So as I started up my car, and drove towards Forks High School, I knew there was no way out. I was forever banished to this broken life.