Title: Twisted Twilight
Author: Midnight
Beta: Moonlite (MAYBE- we've had no contact- are you alive out there?)
Synopses: A different version of Twilight. What if Renee never married Phil, but John Reed, a local cop. John is actually an alcoholic, and is abusive to Bella and Renee. It's after a brutal attack, that Bella decides to go to Forks to live with her Father. As Bella's life experiences have changed, so has our beloved story. See how!
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, or any characters from the novels. There are no proceeds gathered from this work.
Chapter: Twenty-One
Chapter Title: Need to go- Now
Warning: Includes mention of violence, and rape.
Authors Note: About the witch; her hair is actually pure white, but it had appeared black in the shadows until she stepped into the moonlight- I wrote that fairly bad- I'm going to fix it. Also, he went seeking her advice, but more on that will be explained later.
On a SERIOUS NOTE, THE BEGINNING COULD TRIGGER SOMEONE WHO IS A CUTTER, or HAS BEEN. PLEASE NOTE. So, before you do anything you're going to regret twenty minutes later, either DON'T read the slanted text, or, right after you do, go make yourself a cup of tea or coffee, call up a friend, or watch funny video's on youtube. Stop and think.
The fact of the matter is, this is a dark, fucked up story. It has been from the beginning, and it's not going to get any lighter, really. Bella is a self-abusing, rape victim who has been sexually assaulted by two men, and has received no support from her mother who has WITTNESSED the physical violence taken out on her daughter. As such, the writing is dark.
Special Thanks: Major Grai, Nekokitten1123, wintersage, SoulSplit, Shiba-san, april nichole, FRK921, Kitasky123, edwardsXXtrueXXlove, VampsforChamps62, Drama Kagome, AJ Edwins, Karmalady94, divine divinity, Nicole, Taylor, Vixen Hood, Anonymous
It's strange how the momentary relief floods into you when the blade runs across the skin. The moment of being overjoyed at the sight of your blood- a sign that, somehow, you're still alive. It's amazing how that split second of relief, and joy, crashes and burns into a horrible feeling of self hate, worthlessness, and dull pain. It's funny how when we cut more, the more we need to cut. Not only to feel that level of relief at all, but how it controls us. It makes us happy, something we can't get anywhere else. It makes us hate ourselves, like no one else can. We hate ourselves, so we damage ourselves. We damage ourselves because we hate. It's horrible, dark, endless circle of endless dark pain and meaninglessness. It leads us to other foolish habits like not eating, or not sleeping or just generally not looking after ourselves. When we look in the mirror, we look in disgust; not only at our actual appearance, but at the monster we know lives below the skin. All you were trying to do was control the feelings, the thoughts, the images, the pain- but all you've done is let it explode and get out of control. You think you're in control, but you're not. Yet you only realize this as you sit, alone, bleeding and crying, only to forget the next night when the ritual begins again.
It's funny how they say you never really stop smoking, because when your chips are down a smoker always smokes. It's true about cutter, too. When you sink that low again, it only makes sense. You cut, it goes away. You feel worthless more so then you ever had before when you slip up though. Every inch of you feels like dirt that has clung to the inside of our soul.
You think, foolishly I might add, that you can control it. You can't. You never, ever can- once that frenzy begins, it can't be stopped. Like a wolf to food. Again and again and again you rip, tear, cut, bleed, push, scream, bleed, need, cut, want, hate, pain, rage, bleed, need, tear, rip, scream- like an endless circle you just can't get out of. And when you finally drop the weapon- and you do drop it because you can't just put it down, and you're in too much pain to throw, it's only then you realize what you've gone and done. Long, bleeding lines stare up at you, criticizing, reminding you of the nothing you are. And that dark voice in the back of your head consumes you until you are nothing more but an enraged, depressed, curled up, bleeding, weeping heap of nothingness. As you lay there, you're convinced that you deserve to die alone there.
Something cold bumped my head in a shocking manor. I felt groggy, and weak. The cold remain on my head as I bumped into it again. Everything was fuzzy- I had no idea where I was, or how I got there. I opened my eyes slowly, only to see everything rushing fast past me, making me feel like I was swimming in nausea. A soft groan exploded from my lips as my eyes snapped shut again.
"Bella?" A warm voice whispered, but it sounded like it was miles away. I concentrated on my body, attempting to explain everything I was feeling. My feet were cold, and I was in a sitting position. Something cold was pressed against my forehead, but what was strange was that although every part of me was cold it seemed like my warms were warm, hot even. They were throbbing. I groaned again, and drifted back off.
"Is she alright?" a soft, high pitched soprano voice asked.
"I don't know." A male- pained.
"Well, what happened?"
"I don't know." More pain. My heart longed to reach out and comfort the voice, a voice I knew anywhere. But I couldn't move- I couldn't even feel my body. "I found her outside on the balcony- wounded."
"Wounded how?" A different male- I couldn't recognize it. It was louder than his voice, but it was soft.
Silence- dead silence. My hand twitched as I rediscovered my fingers.
"Bella? Bella can you hear me?" The girl whispered. I tried to nod, but couldn't, I tried to speak, but no sound came, I tried to open my eyes, but my lids wouldn't co-operate- it was like I couldn't find them. I thought about my hand again, picturing it connecting to the rest of my body. I made my way back to my face, and thought about where my eyes would be. I struggled as they felt like led. Harder this time, I pushed again and again. Finally a bright and extremely blurry image began to form. Two faces were in front of me. My mind was bombarded by the visual stimulus, and my sensitive hearing faded- it was like a group of people were mumbling in the room, but I couldn't focus in on anything.
A groan escaped my lips. I felt like I had been drugged or something. Everything ached horribly as I regained feeling. My head pounded and my stomach turned.
"Where am I?" I choked out, before coughing from a dry throat.
"You're at my house, love." Edward whispered. I could see his beautiful face now. He reached down and brushed some hair off my face, causing goose bumps to cover my arms, and a blush to burn across my face. "Do you know why you're here?"
"No," I said honestly. "Hi Alice," I mumbled to his pixie like sister. She attempted to smile comfortingly, but her concern covered every inch of her face. "Why are you so worried?"
"Because you're ill, Bella," she said, slowly. I looked back to Edward, confused, but he too looked extremely concerned. I reached up to touch his face, and saw it. My arm paused as I examined the large, thick white bandage wrapping around my arm from wrist to elbow, with light red lines showing through. My heart stopped, and my arm dropped. I looked at the other one- same thing.
"No-" I whispered in a panicked tone. Everything came rushing back to be like a damn exploded inside of my head. How had I been so selfish!? How had I been so stupid? I felt my eyes burn as tears of self disappointment threatened to fall. My heart ached- they were all putting themselves in danger by my mere presents as it was, but to have open, apparently profusely bleeding wounds which were soaking through the pressure bandage, was completely idiotic. "What have I done….?" I trailed off, physical pain consuming my heart.
"It's going to be alright, Bella," Edward promised, pulling me closer to him. "It'll be alright."
"I'm endangering your whole family…."
"They're fine," he said with such sincerity I almost believed him. Alice placed her had on my check for a split second, then left. I heard other footsteps behind her- probably other family members. "They're all worried about you, and they're fine."
"God, I'm such a fool!" I yelled before bursting into hysterics. Edward slipped me onto his lap, and held my head against his stone chest.
"No, you're not. You were hurting, Bella- hurting a lot, and you weren't dealing with it. It was bound to explode eventually- I should have seen the signs and stayed with you, to help you." He paused for a brief second before continuing. "I can't read your mind like everyone else- I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," I mumbled in a mix of fear and rage- both pointed at me. I was furious I let myself slip so far. I was terrified I'd do it again. "I didn't tell you how I was really feeling, I didn't talk about everything, I just kept pushing forward in order to stay strong- and now-"I stopped, allowing the new wave of tears to escape with my ragged breathing.
"Bella, I promise you we will make it through this, and every other challenge that approaches. No matter what." Edward kissed the top of my head, leaving me slightly weakened. His smell alone seemed to be making me intoxicated, not to mention the closeness. My mind was going foggy and unable to concentrate on my breakdown as he held me so tight. I closed my eyes, and allowed my brain to drift again- crying always left me feeling exhausted.
"Bella, wake up. Now." M eyes shot open at the sound of Edward's urgent voice.
"What's wrong?" I fumbled out, trying to straighten myself but became tangled in the blanket someone had thrown over me on the couch- the couch I didn't remember falling asleep on.
"Alice saw him- we need to get to your father," Edward gushed out. I looked around the room, Alice was drawing frantically, while Jasper sat next to her, watching.
"Right. Charlie." I successfully untangled myself, but not without slipping and almost falling as I stood up. Edward caught me with ease and helped me stand correctly.
"I'm going to go tell Esme we're leaving- wait here." I nodded once, surprised at the authority in his tone. I looked over at what Alice was drawing, and my heart stopped.
Blood- the colour was black and white because of the graphite pencil, but I could tell. It pooled around two limp bodies; Charlie and John. I was sitting in the corner, curled up, arms around my knees.
"Phone goes there," I said, pointing to the counter. Alice looked up, shocked.
"What?"
"That's Charlie's kitchen; the phone goes there." I repeated. My voice was monotone in shock.
"Remember Bella, my visions aren't set in stone- this could change- don't panic," he soothed, attempting to pull the image for my sight. It was too late though, and I knew it. The outcome of her vision had nothing to do with me, and my choices- only those of John and Charlie, and they were already in motion.
"You ready to go?" Edward asked from the doorway. I nodded and turned around- he looked worried, more so than I had even seen him before.
"What do you know?" I asked softly.
"I'll tell you everything in the car- but we need to go. Now."