Hey guys, I hope ya'll liked the previous chapter. I can't wait to get started on this story, and any reviews or private messages would be appreciated. Thanks so much (:
As Spencer and I arrived at his apartment complex, we carried my few possessions up the second floor, where Spencer lives. He turned the key in the door, and we entered an apartment that any normal person would consider a library. The walls were littered with books ranging from crime to romance novels. His apartment-our apartment, I had to remind myself,-did have a slightly homey feeling. The green couch in the middle of the room provided the room with warmth and security.
"Um, Bella, your room is this way…If you want to follow me I can show you it..." my half-brother said awkwardly. Having nothing better to do, I followed him into a small, cream colored room. Although the walls were blank, there was a large, elegant mirror on the perpendicular wall to my bed, and a quote above it saying, "There is a thin line that seperates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt." The corners of my mouth tug upwards into an almost undetectable smile while reading this, not realizing how much this quote applies to my life.
The bedspread is cream with yellow flowers blooming on top of it, not too young for a teenager, but not too old either. Yellow and grey pillows are positioned on top of the bedspread so perfectly that I can tell how much effort Spencer put into making the room presentable for a teenage girl. "Thanks Spencer," I murmur, trying to be polite to my host. "It's nothing," he says, "well; I guess I'll leave you to your own business now." He shuts the door softly as he exits the room.
Finally. I'm alone at last.
Alone to feel the pain, the suffering and the hurt. Alone to cry my eyes out and have no one to judge me. Alone to do whatever I like. And last of all, alone for no one to abandon me, like everyone always does.
Come on Bella, stop feeling sorry for yourself, you're better than this. Your mom would have wanted you to be strong for her—for you.
Suddenly everything hits me, like I've all of the sudden walked into a wall of glass. And the glass shatters. I remember that my mom is dead. And I'll never see her again. At least I won't see my step-dad again either…My mind drifts off into a billion different thoughts, becoming an undecipherable language; completely chaotic and unreasonable.
Then I see a black leather book on the floor of my bedroom, in the midst of my unpacked belongings. My Scrapbook. I pick it up, looking at the pictures, almost like I'm continuing my life from those moments; the good and the bad. There's a picture on the front cover of me in my Easter dress with my mom and dad, before he abandoned us. "Oh the good times," I think to myself. While the beginning of my childhood had good memories- ones of rolling in the grass with my parents and baking cookies- they soon were sucked into an abyss, leaving my life in distress. I turn a few pages, pondering the moments until I come onto a picture that was taken on my fifteenth birthday; my step-dad had just been in his accident and had not survived. My mom was a nervous wreck, turning to drugs, not realizing the hell Rob put us through.
The beatings. The alcohol. The violence.
On a normal school day, I would stay at school as long as possible, not wanting to return home, fearing what my step-father would do when faced with the imperfections of our family. I would hide in my bedroom while doing my homework, trying to ignore the constant screams of my mother being hit. I knew it was only a matter of time until he unleashed his anger on me, and he started turning his attention to me around my eleventh birthday, continuing until the day he died. While I realized the horrors of my life, my mother could never relate, leading her to her eventual death.
"Why you, WHY YOU..." I whisper. "My whole life, you were the only thing I had to hold on to, and you abandoned me, HOW COULD YOU?... You're not the only one who had it rough, if only you knew the things he put me through…The things he did to me…
Tears run down my face as my eyes are turning a deep shade of pink. My silent sobs continue until there is no sadness left-nothing left to feel.I am completely numb with pain. I pull myself up off of the floor and wipe my eyes, realizing how much mascara must be spewed all over my face. As quietly as I can, I tiptoe into the bathroom and turn on the water to get in the shower.
As I shower, I let the steamy water cleanse me, rinsing away all of my sorrows until the water runs cold. As I wrap a forest-green colored towel around my petite body, I look down at my wrists. "Almost healed. But not for long," I think to myself, wondering how much longer it will be until a blade will drag across my skin, blood flowing freely from my wounds, onto the bathroom floor, the evil pouring out of my body. Cleansing my soul.
Bella, STOP IT, you can't do that now, Spencer will know something is up. Wait for a few more days until he's less focused, just wait a little bit longer.
"All right," I think to myself. Just a few more days without my routine; it's almost like a drug, leaving me addicted and allowing me to escape from the harsh realities of my pain.
After I get dressed into a maroon sweatshirt and boy shorts, I lie on my bed, drawing a girl floating in water, the water symbolizing me and the water symbolizing my sins; not that anyone else would notice though. Art is about the only thing that helps me escape the harsh reality I'm living, well, besides cutting.
Suddenly , I hear a knock on my door. "Come in," I say, knowing Spencer will be calling me to eat dinner. "Hey, is there anything you would like for dinner?" he asks. "Um, a salad would be fine, I'm not very hungry at the moment," I drift off, knowing the path ahead of me will be a long one. "Well okay then, I'll just pick up some salads from Panera Bread, I should have them back here in a few. Give me a call if you need anything," he says as he points toward the phone on my nightstand. I nod as he walks out the front door and drives off to buy our dinner.
As he returns, we eat in silence. He most likely feels awkward about the situation I'm in, and I know that I'm not in the mood for talking about my feelings, so I dismiss myself and go off to bed, even though it is likely I will be up all night because of my sleep insomnia.
When I wake up in the morning, it's about 7 a.m. Well, I got 4 hours of sleep, that's not so bad. I slowly climb out of bed and walk into the kitchen, planning to make a cup of coffee. As I walk out of my room, I see a lean figure sitting at the table. "Spencer? What are you doing up this early," I ask him. "Well, I couldn't sleep, but because you're up this early, I'm assuming you couldn't either. Want some coffee?" He asks as he holds up the coffee pot. "Um...yeah, with a little bit of cream and three sugars," I reply.
After he hands me my coffee, we stare out the kitchen window, viewing the smog-filled city in which Spencer lives. "Lovely view isn't it?" Spencer says. "Did you know that the state of California has the most smog filled cities? So this is not even the worst it gets," he says, starting to ramble about the environment of my new hometown. As I listen to his randomly intriguing facts, I sip my coffee, zoning off into my little world.
Maybe living with Spencer won't be so bad after all.
"Hey Bella, we need to be heading off to the BAU in about an hour, so you're going to need to be ready by then, is that okay?" Spencer asks.
"Yeah, I'll be ready by then," I reply, standing up and retreating to my bathroom.
I put on my foundation, cover-up, smokey-grey eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. I look in the mirror. "It doesn't matter how pretty you are if there's no one there to care," my conscience replies to my glance. My eyes swim with tears. As I wipe away the stray tear on my left cheek, I take a breath and re-apply my face powder. That's better. I quickly pull on my black and grey tie-dye tank top and my blue-jean capris. I pull on my red toms before I go outside to meet Spencer in the car.
After I brush through my hair quickly in the car, I walk into the BAU office with Spencer, following behind him because I'm a nervous wreck inside. What if no one likes me? Oh wait, they won't because obviously no one did before, they abandoned you, didn't they? I look down at the floor as I walk, my confidence shattered by my low self-esteem.
As we walk through the doors, everyone turns to stare—they obviously haven't been informed about me, making me feel even more self-conscious. He didn't want any of his friends knowing he has a pathetic little sister, obviously. Spencer and I walk up the small flight of stairs to reveal a group of professional individuals-probably his co-workers.
"Reid, who may this lovely lady be?" a dark skinned, rather handsome man says to his co-worker. "Oh, um…hey guys, this is my half-sister, Bella," he says, looking down towards the ground, waiting for the awkward introduction to pass. "You have a sister? Since when?"
"Come on Morgan, cut them some slack," says his co-worker. "I'm Emily, by the way," she says, holding out her hand for me to shake. I take her hand and give it a small shake, hoping to get the introductions done as fast as possible. She gives me a small smile, showing her perfect white teeth. "Nice to meet you," I reply.
The rest of his co-workers greet me as well, trying to be extremely friendly and figure out my life story. Typical FBI agents. "So Bella, why have we never heard of you before now?" a blonde, flamboyant lady asks me. "I'm Garcia," she says, shaking my hand with extreme energy. I look at the floor and glance at Spencer, trying to hint to him that he should tell them of my situation. If I speak about my mom, I'll start crying. And I won't be able to stop. And that is not the kind of baggage they need. It's not the kind of baggage for anyone. I sigh and start to walk to the bathroom while everyone is looking at Spencer, confused as to what is going on.
"Her mother passed away two days ago, and I was called in by the police department to take custody of her," Spencer said quietly. "Apparently, when Bella came home from school, she found her mother hanging from her chandelier." The room went quiet. Everyone's faces looked shocked, even Hotch. "And that's how I got custody of her," Spencer said, holding the attention of the profilers in his very own hands.
When I came back from the bathroom, I got sympathetic stares. Is this really necessary? After talking with the team for a minute, Rossi invited the whole BAU to his house for dinner, including me, in a couple of days. The BAU team was anxious to get to know me, which I was not completely comfortable with.
"Well, I'm not looking forward to that," I thought, feeling once again self-conscious. There is only one thing I can think about—cutting—and I don't think I'll be able to stop thinking until I feel the razor in my fingertips once again, slaying the demons from inside my body.
Hey guys, I hope ya'll liked this chapter. Next chapter I will be starting to talk about Bella's self-harming and maybe the start of some health-problems, as well as her hobbies, and a deeper connection with the rest of the team. I'm trying to drag out Bella's emotions to make the story more interesting. I will try to update this story daily. Please rate/ send me a pm if you have time, I would appreciate it so much. If you have any suggestions, don't hesitate to tell me. Have a lovely day. (: 3