Chapter 5:

Hey guys, I'm glad you all liked the last chapter! And I'm really sorry about mixing up the step-brother/half-brother thing; I don't know what I was thinking. Part of it is probably due to the fact that I've had standardized testing all week, and it's been frying my brain. I hope y'all like this chapter and continue reading this story. This chapter will be a little toned down. As always, I love comments, and if you just want someone to chat with, I'm cool with that too, you can pm me, I'm constantly checking my inbox.(:

Have a great day (technically night, but it may vary depending where you live.)! I hope you like this chapter! XOXO.

I'm running.

Running through the woods behind my old apartment complex; where my mom, step-dad, and I lived before he died a few months ago.

My bare feet paddle up and down through the leaves, leaving dirt to fly up in the air behind me as I run. I'm panting, I can't catch my breath. But I have to keep running or he'll catch me.

My long, blonde hair is tied back in a low pony-tail, and my grey tank and purple Nike shorts are attracting his attention. If only I'd worn a different color. I decide to stop running for a moment due to my painful stomach cramps.

To my disappointment, I hear a pair of footsteps coming towards me, and even as I run as fast as my body will allow, he catches up to me. And right as he's about to grab me by the waist—

"Bella, wake up." "Wake up." (Spencer POV)

"It's time to get some breakfast; we need to leave the house in about an hour."

I shake her shoulder to try to jolt her awake when I hear a scream coming from the scared looking girl in front of me.

(Bella POV)

Right as he's about to grab me from the waist, I feel someone tugging on my shoulder.

I close my eyes tighter, scared he's going to hurt me again. I can almost feel a smack to my cheek when I hear a voice.

"Bella, it's okay, everything is okay, you just had a nightmare," my half-brother says.

My eyes open wide, exposing my fearful blue eyes. My breathing starts to calm and I scoot out of bed while wiping the sweat from my forehead on the back of my hand. I'm still lost for words. I thought the nightmares were gone—apparently not.

All of the sudden, as I'm walking to the bathroom sink, my stomach starts to churn, and I know what I must do. I run into the bathroom, and shove my index finger down my throat, causing my gag reflexes to come in hand. As I see the contents of last night's dinner in the toilet, I feel satisfied with myself.

"Bella, you okay in there?" Spence asks, clearly concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just an upset stomach," I lie without hesitation.

As I emerge from the bathroom, I grab a yellow tank top, my gold bangles, and army green boy-shorts from my closet. I grab a piece of spearmint gum to try and rid the disgusting taste from my mouth. I completely forget that Spencer is still sitting on the edge of my bed, and as I'm putting my toiletries in the bathroom and about ready to hop in the shower, Spence motions me over to him. Oh great, another discussion. As if I haven't had enough of these. I plop down on the bed with a big thud before Spencer starts to speak.

"Bella, I just really want you to know I'm here for you—I'm going to give you space to figure everything out for yourself, but just know, I will always be here for you," Spencer says.

"Jeeze, where have I heard that before," my brain thinks sarcastically.

Almost as if on cue, Spencer responds. "I seriously mean this. My parents weren't exactly supportive during my childhood, so I know how it feels to grow up so fast, but just always know, you have my shoulder to cry on if you need one," he says. "Oh yeah, you've also got Garcia's, Emily's, and JJ's shoulders to cry on to, plus all of the guys." We smirk at each other, knowing the truth; that anyone who messes with me will have to mess with the crazy-protective FBI agents that my brother—half-brother—works with.

I reach over to give him a hug, which is quite awkward for both of us, considering I haven't been hugged since around the age of 10. "Thanks, pretty-boy," I whisper, trying to lighten the mood by using Garcia's nickname, and it seems to work. Spencer's mouth stretches into a smirk. He stands up from my bed. "Hey I'm going to fix some coffee, want some?"

"Yup, tad bit of cream and three sugars, the regular."

I hop into the shower, feeling the water cleanse my scarred and fair skin. I can't help but think how ugly I am. My huge stomach, my flat but, my shapeless figure. Even though I'm told I'm thin and curvy, I look quite the opposite in my opinion. I may look 110 pounds, but I feel like 160. My uneven, pasty skin covers my body, still containing scars and bruises from the past. My "curves" are more like imperfections, and constantly remind me of my step-dad's daily beatings and violations. Even if the bruises are not visible to anyone else, I'll see where those bruises were forever.

I can still feel everything. I can feel him on me; I can see him cheating with my mom. I can see him drinking and abandoning us. I can see his death. And I can still envision the drug habits my mom gained when he died; I guess I should have known it was only a matter of time before—

All of the sudden, I pick up the blade from the bathroom counter. It's all I can do to keep my mind from floating into a world of hurt; a world of pain. I slice the blade against my skin while leaning against the shower wall, allowing the blood to cascade down the tub and down the drain.

I don't know how long it's been when my cut stops bleeding. I hop out of the shower, trying to find a paper towel before I drip blood onto the wool rugs in the bathroom. I sit on the tiled floor, rubbing ointment on my cut as long as I feel necessary and then put a bandage over it.

Now that I've gotten my daily dose of pain control, I get dressed and slide my many bangles over my wrists as well as the silver charm bracelet I got from my dad. I smile, trying hard to remember my past life, even though it was only 7 years ago.

I apply my makeup, emotionless as a zombie, and grab my coffee from Spence. He drives us up to the BAU, ready to get back to work. His genius mind probably gets bored when he's not tracking serial killers.

As we walk into the squad room, we're greeted with hugs, but the commotion stops whenever the boss walks into the room. Everyone quickly disperses and gets started on their paperwork. How can I tell this is the boss you ask? She has a stone-cold stare that would intimidate anyone, allowing me to recognize her as an authority figure.

"And who might this be," Strauss asks, making her way down the steps into the squad room.

"Ma'am, this is my half-sister Bella." We shake hands. "So what brings you into the care of Dr. Reid, Miss—...?"

"Harmon. Bella Harmon."

Spencer decides to butt into our conversation thankfully. "Her mother passed away a few days ago, and I'm her legal guardian now," says Spencer.

"I'm terribly sorry dear," she says with a slight amount of empathy. "When will you be starting school?"

"Oh, I'll be starting school in a week," I say, not over-enthusiastically. She nods. "Well, I don't exactly want you disrupting my agents while they are doing their paper-work, so you can either go the BAU gym or you can visit with Ms. Garcia. Is that alright?" she asks.

"Yeah, that's fine, I'll go to the gym, you don't need to worry about me," I reply, not wanting to be the one who pushes her buttons. She nods and heads off into her office when she hears her cell-phone buzz.

Thank god she's not here anymore. The way she talks to other people intimidates me; Hell, it probably intimidates FBI agents!

I walk downstairs to the gym, trying to avoid Strauss. I wouldn't want to get on her bad side. As I walk into the gym, I'm suddenly glad that I'm wearing shorts and a tank top, otherwise it would be fairly difficult to work out.

Strauss was probably surprised when I said I was going to the gym. I'm not exactly the typical athlete.

Spencer doesn't know, but I took up boxing and karate when I was younger. I had to find some way to defend myself from my step-father and the bullies at school. Most people don't think of me as exactly 'athletic', and I plan on keeping it that way. Karate and boxing weren't exactly the coolest things at my old school.

I was constantly teased about my appearance and my intelligence. My school didn't exactly have the most 'understanding' kids, and I've been bullied and picked on since before my teen years. People always wondered why I never wore make-up and told me that I should cover my ugly face. Before I had contacts, my glasses were broken on multiple occasions, and I was called a nerd because of my lack of social skills and my love for reading. I was pushed down the stairs daily and was the school punching bag. I would come home crying, my mother holding me in her arms until my step-father got home. I would be beat on, insulted, and violated. Eventually I got used to the negative aura surrounding me, but to this day it still hurts. The difference is that my mother isn't around to help me through that any more.

The truth is, I'm terrified. I'm terrified of going back to school and starting my life over, even though I'm in a completely different city. I want the teasing to stop. When I go back to school, the insults will break me, sending me back down the dark road I have been traveling on for such a long time. And I don't have my mother to come crawling to after a bad day. Sigh.

I do have boxing to help me through it. I'm not proud of this—but the truth is that I'm addicted to exercise. Once I start, I cannot stop. I have so much anger and sadness inside of my petite body that I can never stop hurting. I'm getting weaker day by day and some days I just want the pain to end. By physically exhausting my body, I become weak, as well as losing pain.

I strap on a black pair of boxing gloves and start kicking and hitting at the punching bag. Hit, kick, slam, pound. I keep hitting the bag with all of my might until my heart is pounding and my hands are sore with bruises and blisters. It's obvious I haven't boxed in a while due to the achiness of my muscles.

As I take off my gloves, I hear someone approaching. I tie my hair back with a ponytail, tucking the blonde strands behind my ears. "Nice," I hear a voice say, and I turn around to take in the view of a tall, blonde, muscular teenager. Dammmnnn.

"Thanks," I whisper, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "How long have you been boxing?" he asks. "A few years," I say. "I also do karate, not like that matters," I say with a hint of sarcasm in my voice. He smiles at me. My stomach does a backflip, and my heart pounds out of my chest. "It's not the most admirable sport for a girl."

"I think it's pretty admirable," he says, his voice quietly drifting off. We stand in a very comfortable silence for a few seconds before he introduces himself. "I'm Nathan, you can call me Nate," he says, flipping his blonde hair and giving me a subtle wink with his gorgeous green eyes.

"I'm Bella, nice to meet you," I say genuinely, giving him a small smile and a handshake. "Sorry, I'm all sweaty," I chuckle. He laughs along with me, cracking a joke about karate as we make conversation for a few minutes. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, you will." I give him an innocent wink as I walk back upstairs to the BAU office.

I can't stop myself from hoping I will see him again next time I'm here.

Hey guys, hope y'all liked this chapter. I wasn't really in the mood for writing yesterday, so I wrote half of it today, and half yesterday. Please tell me your opinions. And what do you guys want this "mystery man" to be like? Please give me your input. I'm definitely making next chapter about the girls' night. I originally was going to make it be in this chapter, but once I realized how long this chapter would be, I decided against it.

I do not know if I will update this weekend, and if I do, it will most likely be tomorrow morning or Sunday night, at like 11 PM. I have my band banquet all tomorrow night, and considering the amount of people that are going to be there, I'm going to be super-duper busy. Plus my grandparents and cousins are coming over for mothers' day.

Have a good mother's day (: