Ok, sorry about not updating in a while. School has been wicked busy and I feel like I haven't had any time to breathe. Thanks to those who reviewed and all that jazz.
I guess my parents weren't joking around. As we speak my dad is flying down the road to my dear Aunt Deana's house. He was so angry when he saw what I had done to myself he made me pack my bag and leave earlier than expected. How could he do this to his only daughter? "Bella, please talk to me. I'm sorry that you feel that I'm doing this to hurt you. I'm not. It's for the best. Your starting to barrel down the wrong past and I don't know how much longer I could've handled you," my sorry excuse for a father started, attempting to make conversation. Apparently having my mp3 player blasting music so load it seems to emanate from all around and having my body turned so my back is facing him (which is quite uncomfortable I might add) doesn't seem to clue him off that I don't want to speak to, let alone hear him. "Did you ever think that maybe your the reason I'm 'barreling down a wrong path' dad?" I put my two cents in, preparing for an all out screaming match. "Bella your rebelling had nothing what-so-ever to do with my parenting skills!" Dad, or Charlie as he will forever now be called said with a rising voice. "Yeah, well Charlie your doing wonderful as a parent right now. Way to f*cking go!" I screamed. Charlie was taken aback with my use of the f word, seeing as it was the first time I had ever said it around him.
"That's it young lady. You will not use the type of language. Your Aunt will be alerted as soon as we get there and she can deal with you accordingly." My fa-Charlie- said with such a pissed off look that I decided to leave it at that. That, and we were pulling up into Aunt Deana's driveway. Aunt Deana stood in the doorway to her large 3 story estate. She was dressed in a long light green gown that made her look like a slim twig. Her dull brown hair was in a bun on the top of her head and her glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose. She smiled a wry smile and began to progress down the steps that cascaded from the front door. My stomach was sick. I can't believe they were serious about this. "Bella please be good for her. She's trying to help you, not hurt you." Da-Charlie, said under his breath so the advancing Deana couldn't hear. Before I could reply my door was ripped open and Aunt Deana was judging me. "Get out Bella." Her voice made my blood boil. I climbed out of the car and stood up so she could analyze what I was wearing. I knew I was going to be in for something when her face began to go red with anger. Maybe I shouldn't have worn the "All Hope is Gone" shirt this early. "Say your goodbyes and get in the house Bella." Deana's voice was icy cold and frightening to me. "Deana, I must inform you that Bella has had a bad potty mouth the way here. I'll let you decide what to do." He turned toward me. "Bella, be good."
"Bye Charlie." That sent Deana over the edge. "How dare you call your father by his real name. Do you have any idea how disrespectful that is?" She grabbed onto my arm with an iron grip and began pulling me toward my doom. I finally broke down the wall I had built since finding out about this purgatory I was being sentenced to.
"Dad, Father, Charlie, whoever you want me to call you, please don't make me do this! Please daddy!" I said with tears springing out of my eyes. "Don't you love me anymore? Please Daddy! Please!" I screamed like a five year old, unable to stop myself. I threw myself to the ground and tried to get back to my dad. He looked at me, shook his head, then turned and got into the car. "Get up you disrespectful sinner!" Deana screamed while leaving claw marks in my arm as she dragged me farther from my last hope. "Get inside." I did as she asked this time for fear of what might happen if I didn't. She slammed the front door and locked it. "You will learn how to be a good child while you are under my supervision. Do you understand that?"
"Yes Aunt Deana."
"Good. Now," she began with such a sickly sweet voice that you would have never guessed she had been screaming at the top of her lungs in anger a few seconds ago, "you need to know the rules for living with your dear Aunt Deana. Number one: You will always address me as Aunt Deana, Miss Deana, or Ma'am. Number two: You will not speak unless spoken to. Number three: You will be seen and not heard. Number four: You will never speak to guests unless they specifically speak to you. Number Five: You will do as asked without asking any questions in return. Number Six: You will not have anyone over unless they are approved by me. Now these rules are subject to change and anytime. Other rules may be added without your knowledge. If you disobey these rules, punishment will be strict. While you live under my roof you may not dress like a creature of the undead, show any of your tattoos or piercings that I have been informed of, or listen to your demonic music. Your clothing will be approved and purchased by me. Your hair will be fixed by me. Your entertainment will be prepared by me. Any questions?"
"No ma'am."
"Good. Oh, before I forget, you will be starting Silver Side Academy in two weeks. This lovely boarding school in run by my church. I am really good friends with the headmaster so I was able to get you in. You will have a dorm on campus and stay there during the week. On weekends you will have the option to come home. There will be religious ceremonies everyday from 8am-9am and from 7pm-8pm. This school will be good for you. It will teach you the what is right and what is wrong." This was going to be trouble. I had heard about Aunt Deana's "religion" (if you could even call it that) from my mom. Apparently the worshippers where hardcore into obeying what they were told to do by the 3 heads of church. My Aunt happened to be one of those heads. I don't even known what to classify the religion under. It's not any of the five major religions of the world, or any of the leading minorities for that matter. Mom said its like a mix of many things, but mom herself didn't know much about it. "How does that sound?" Deana asked, her voice so chipper it masked any of the aggression that she randomly spewed forth. "It sounds good Aunt Deana." I tried to give her a smile. Her face turned to stone and she told me to go to my room immediately. Talk about being bi-polar...
OK, so that's all I've got right now. I tried to make this chapter longer since I haven't updated in a while. I'll do my best to update tomorrow. Peace, love, and reviews (please?)!