Chapter 3: Friends?

I was glad I finally got that off my chest.

How my parents died, I mean.

Carlisle and Esme tried to talk Rosalie and I into going to a therapist, but we both refused. It was too painful. Rosalie wasn't as bad as I was, for she didn't see them die and because of her hatred for Joseph, our father.

He found her beyond beautiful, which she was, and didn't like it because of all the guys that would hang around her or come over. The boys were always scared away, but he finally thought of a way to make it better - to him anyway.

He beat her every night, leaving bruises scattered across her body. She begged and pleaded for him to stop, but the punches and kicks always came faster. I still remember her screaming at the top of her lungs perfectly.

Rose walked in, with her best guy friend trailing behind her. It was right after school, and unfortunately, Joseph had the day off. Our mom, however, did not.

"And who is this?" our father asked.

I was sitting on the couch watching the game, but I could see it all.

"This is Jeremy. He's just a friend, daddy," she answered in her sweet voice.

"Well, Jeremy, I suggest that you leave. I need to teach Rosalie some lessons. Have a good afternoon, son."

Jeremy looked a little scared and left. I looked over at Rose and could see the fear in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, daddy. I thought we could do homework together. I'm not even ready to have a boyfriend, yet. I'm only nine," she said, watching the anger rise up on his face.

"You know you're supposed to stay away from boys, Rosalie Lillian Hale!"

She flinched away from the yelling. "Daddy, you're scaring me…"

"I'm going to be doing a lot more than that. Get upstairs to your room right now, young lady."

She nodded and ran up the stairs.

Joseph looked at me with an evil expression. "Say anything to your mother, and you'll be next."

I nodded, although I had no idea what he meant. He followed Rose up the stairs, and I could tell he left the door open because the knob didn't click like it usually did.

"Bend over the bed!" he yelled.

Then, I heard the sound of a belt meeting skin. I stayed planted in my seat, crying for my beloved sister. I heard her scream loudly over and over in time with the belt. The whipping noises finally stopped, and I could hear her labored breathing from downstairs. Then, he hit her; the slapping noise echoed through the house. He hit her once, twice, three times…I finally stopped counting after what seemed like forever. I heard his boot meet her stomach and her scream once again.

He finally came downstairs after two hours, twirling the belt around and around. The buckle, I noticed, was dripping with blood.

I thought he killed my sister, so I ran upstairs quickly, once he was out of the room. I walked into her room and saw her laying on the floor by the bed, holding her stomach.

Her shirt was off, and she had only a sports bra on and her underwear. From my view, I could see the blood coming out of the gashes left across her back. She rolled over, and I saw a purple-blue bruise across most of her stomach. There were bruises all down her arms and down her legs. There were many cuts as well.

"Let's go to the bathroom, Rosie," I whispered, then took her into her attached bathroom.

I drew her a bath, and helped into the tub. She left on her bra and underwear, so I could stay and help her. Ironically enough, I was the one who was crying, while she simply winced in pain. I took the washcloth and cleaned out all of her lacerations, then placed bandages on them all.

He was careful to avoid her face and neck so that no one would see.

I helped her out of the tub and walked her to her room. I slept in there with her that night, but was told not to do it again. I remember her crying when he said that he better not see it happen a second time. She cried because of the beating and the yelling, yet she had no idea what she really had done.

That was the very first time he beat her.

I was sitting in English having this flashback, and when I finally noticed that the bell had rung, I stood up. I almost ran into Bella, who walked to stand next to me.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered and began to walk away, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"Emmett, what's wrong?" she asked. It was only the third time I had ever heard her talk in school, and it was two weeks into the semester.

The first time was when she mumbled; the second was when she walked out of class.

I shook my head. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Then, she whispered, "Will you walk me to class? There are these two guys who keep harassing me…"

Harassing her?

Harassing Bella?!

Hell, yeah. I'd walk her to class.

"Of course. Point them out when you see them."

She nodded and looked down, leaving the classroom with me not too far behind.

We went to the next building over, and she told me who they were.

I should've known. Matt Billard and Adam Levowsky were known for being pricks.

"I'll be right back," I murmured and walked over to them.

"Do you think you're funny? Picking on some small girl just for kicks?" I asked in a calm, but angry voice. They both laughed.

"Are you talking about that depressed freak?" Matt voiced.

I pushed him into the outside wall of the building and yelled, "She's not a freak! You have no idea what she's been through!"

He still had that smirk on his face. "And you do, Hale? Oh, that's right. I forgot you lost your mommy and daddy when you were little." That hit the spot.

I clenched my teeth and said, "It would be in your best interest to shut your fucking mouth, Billard."

"What are you going to do? Kill me like your dad killed your mom?"

"Who told you that?!" I screamed, but I already knew.

"Your freak of a friend. What was her name? Ella?" He mocked looking thoughtful.

I dropped my hands, unshed tears in my eyes.

"Bella," I whispered, before taking off to my car.

Bella followed me. "Can I explain at least? You owe me that much," she said.

"I owe you?" I asked incredulously. I turned around to face her. "I owe you?! I don't owe you a fucking thing, Isabella Swan! Why don't you go be your depressed, little self and listen to that weird, shitty music you like?! Why don't you do something besides fuck with me?! I was trying to be your friend, but I tell you my darkest secret, and you tell the whole fucking school! So, yeah…Go ahead and explain, but I don't give a damn about what you say. I wanted to be friends, but you wouldn't let me."

"Friends? Face it, Emmett…you were using me, just like every other guy ever has. And I only told those two guys to get them off my back." She had tears running down her face, and for the first time, I didn't care.

"Yes, Bella. I was using you. That's why I told you what really happened to my parents. I haven't even told any of my friends that I've had for years. I thought I could open up to you. I thought you'd understand. How would you like it if I told your secret to the entire school?"

"I wouldn't," she sobbed.

"And that's exactly why I wouldn't do it. Bella, since the first time I saw you, I wanted to help, to be your friend, but no. I can see you don't know the meaning of the word."

I got into my car and drove away, leaving a stunned and crying Bella in the parking lot of Forks High to fend for herself the rest of the day. I thought she understood me, but she only ruined the façade I put up since that happened. She broke down the walls I built after that happened, and at first, I was happy I had someone to talk to. But now, I realize I made a mistake.

Friends?

Who was I kidding?