Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
Authors note: I apologize for uploading this so late. My dad was re-configuring the internet set up, and it took a while. Hope this makes up for it.
Authors note II: I know this chapter was short, not much longer than the first actually. But I don't want to rush this story, so hope you still enjoy reading!
The deluge of rain-which started out as a simple, but persistent rainfall-was now a fully fledged downpour of icy water. Bella was glad she had the hood to cover her hair, which once wet would more than likely earn her murderous beatings.
Bella became nervous upon seeing the movers up close. The mover's arrival had been unexpected. Bella, despite how long it had been, still hadn't gotten used to the amount of strange men showing up at her childhood home.
These men, besides the heavy black trench coats, wore a signature outfit. Underneath the seemingly suffocating leather of the trench coats, was a thin tweed shirt. And a pair of jeans, the ends stuffed into black work boots.
There was almost nothing covering some of the men's chests, and chest hair actually poked between the fabrics of some of the mover's tweed jackets. They all wore a sickeningly sweet perfume; which made them smell like they were about to rape Bella.
Bella had never been raped before, physically that is. She was still a virgin in that account, but in others she had been ravaged.
The anger Bella reserved toward her mother wasn't unjustified, or that's at least how Bella thought about it. Others might say she should have been more careful in some situations. Whenever an adult lectured Bella about this she responded, by politely avoiding their questions.
"What do you want little girl? If you want some help, well you'll have to wait 'till after we're done." One of the burly movers said. The voice snapped Bella out of her thoughts and made her realize she was standing still.
Someone coughed loudly. The sound was too obvious to be accidental. Someone was trying to get Bella's attention, and it wasn't the man in front of her.
Craning her neck, Bella saw her mother looking at her from the doorway. Renee stood in the doorway of her own house, looking at her only daughter with a sarcastic expression of confusion painted on her face.
"What are you waiting for Bella sweetie?" Renee said. False cheer mixed with sarcastic regret creeping sickeningly into her voice.
Bella shuddered inwardly; she HATED when her mother called her sweetie. It just sounded wrong to her. "I'm waiting for Charlie…to text me saying where he will be picking me up."
This was of course a complete lie. Bella had already received a text, which read in what Bella imagined to be a precise tone; I will pick you up at the Phoenix police station. Not the one next to the airport. I will be waiting to drive you to Forks at the Phoenix Arizona high school police station. Just to clarify. - Charlie
"Where will he be picking you up from, Bella?" Renee asked. The woman still hadn't ventured out into the rain. Bella had once burned all of her mother's coats; surprisingly the flames had consumed them quite fast. Although that particular detail was attributed to Bella dousing the 20 some odd coats in gasoline.
"At…you know what? It's none of you damn business." Bella said. Her Star Wars hoodie was thick and was working some extraterrestrial magic to keep her dry.
"Well then why haven't you LEFT?" Renee shouted the last word with venom in her voice.
"Excuse me miss, but I asked her a question. She hasn't responded. If I had to guess, I'd say the reason she hasn't left is because she hasn't thought of an answer." Said a mover, with strained politeness of course. After all the piss poor woman, Renee, was paying him and his brothers-it was close family business-quite a large sum of money to move everything out of the house.
Bella started walking backwards, away from the people. In her years growing up Bella had learned that people, spelled disaster.
The situation looked like it could turn heated at any moment, so Bella just left.
The boys were walking down the suburb street in a tight cluster. Most of them were clingers-people who could grow facial hair at an early age. Despite the facial hair, mostly very scraggly and limp scruff, the group could clearly be identified as late middle school miscreants.
All of the boys were the same age, which was apparent. Their language ran rampant; fuck, damn, shit, and more often than the other the word whore were spoken often.
Unlike Bella, who swore like a sailor (passionately and angrily that is), these boys sounded weak when they swore. Some of them had tasted drugs, and swore they would definitely try more once they got to high school. The rest were promising alcoholics, they had nicked some whiskey and found they could hold down their alcohol pretty well.
This information would brand this group of boys as, stoners and drunks. That is if anyone were to learn this stuff. The boys had expertly hidden their experiments from everyone, except themselves.
To further disguise their antics with drugs and alcohol the boys took care of the outside appearance, the one people would see first.
On the outside the looked like cool kids. The type you would be comfortable if you happened to meet, and would eventually like if given the chance to get to know better.
Their language on the outside was immaculate. On the outside they dressed, talked, and acted like perfect gentleman.
However on the inside they were really vicious calculating deviants. They were currently on the look out for more stimulants such as alcohol, whiff of drugs, and (this was a new one) sex.
A short brown haired cute girl would be the perfect target. It would suck for Bella, but the bullies would more than likely find sick joy in their actions if they ever found her.