A/N- This chapter contains emotional abuse, please consider this when deciding to read.
I know I haven't responded to any but I want you to know I have been reading each and every one of them, and getting excited over every single letter, so thank you thank you thank you!
This chapter was not only Beta'd but brought into being by the wonderful Dollybigmomma, if we hadn't spoken on the phone for an hour and a half, this chapter, and the transition into the rest of the story would have never happened.
Bella
That weekend, I found myself in an empty house. Charlie was working the weekend shift, which left me blissfully alone during the day.
I languished in the shower, able to relax, knowing there would be no unexpected company. Afterwards, I took a long nap, waking up every hour or so to check that his car was still absent from the driveway, and that there were no calls or texts waiting from Phil. They hadn't made me check in since that first night.
Even though I had been home alone plenty in Phoenix, Phil usually left me with a list a mile long, and he would insist that everything needed to be done before he returned. Or Renee would be home as well. She wasn't bad, but I could never relax, as Phil had instructions for her as well. It didn't matter if I spent every moment he was gone cooking and cleaning, he would manage to find something wrong. If I accepted it and tried to relax, he would know, he would always know.
I knew there was a chance Charlie would come home early, so I got my relaxing out of the way early. After my much-needed nap, I threw on one of the sweatshirts he had left in my dresser and grabbed the cash he had left me for groceries. I hopped in my truck and drove to the store.
Grocery shopping was a chore I also did in Arizona, so there was a level of comfort and familiarity to it. As I pulled a cart free and began making my way around the store, I fell into a comfortable space. I was never bothered here. The grocery store was always a pleasant place for me…when I got to go alone.
I had one of my headphones in, listening to my music and checking the list. I planned to make a few meals ahead of time, that way there would always be food at the ready, should Charlie suddenly demand it.
Plus, when there was more food around, it was harder to notice when some was missing. I was used to sneaking my food, and while Charlie hadn't said anything about it yet, I wanted to be ready in case Phil gave him any ideas.
While I shopped, I thought about the past week. I was surprised it had gone as well as it had. I'd had people to sit with at lunch, instead of hiding in the library. I saw the Cullens again, but luckily, since Phil hadn't called yet, I had time to come up with an excuse, or fancy wording. I knew I wouldn't be able to entirely prevent his reaction, but maybe with the right delivery, I could mitigate his rage.
As I pushed my cart out of the aisle, it collided with another cart. I immediately said, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" right as the other person said the same.
When I looked up, I recognized the figure. She was older now, signs of aging just now reaching her face. Her hair was a light brown, with honey blonde highlights bringing a healthy color to her face. She was in nicer clothes, despite only being at a grocery store, like she had just come from a work meeting, or perhaps was on her way.
"Esme?" I found her name slipping out. She looked surprised for a moment before correcting her reaction and smiling.
"Is that you, Bella? I heard you were back!" She abandoned her cart and came over to me, her eyes drinking me in. "Wow, you've grown into such a beautiful young woman. How are you? How is your mom?" She had such a normal tone to her voice that I didn't think she was playing any games.
"Thank you, Esme. I'm good, my mom is good." I wasn't sure what else to say. Esme had always been so kind and welcoming, from the very first time I'd met her, not that I could remember much from that far back.
"You'll have to tell your mom hi from me. Oh, and Bella, you must come over for dinner sometime, I know we'd all be interested to hear everything about your time in Arizona."
I nodded. There was some more polite chatter back and forth before we parted ways, her reminding me of my invite to have dinner at their house before waving and walking away. There was no way I could ever actually accept her invite. To be back there? Phil would beat my mother nearly to death. And then me when I visited next.
What makes you think he'd find out?
I shook my head hard. He always finds out. He can tell when you're lying, and when you're hiding something. Being too close to Edward would be the worst, most fatal decision I could make. I resumed shopping, trying to reclaim my comfort in the familiar chore.
When I returned home, groceries in hand, I checked the clock. I still had hours before Charlie was supposed to be home. I turned on my music and went through the familiar steps. Altogether, I made four different dishes, so Charlie would have a choice for his meals throughout the week. I had a lasagna that needed at least a day before baking, and I hoped Charlie wouldn't be upset.
Phil didn't like seeing something that wasn't an option immediately. He would always demand that I cook it, despite not letting it rest long enough. When it came out bad, he would punish me. Always. He would dump the still hot lasagna on the floor, demanding I clean it up immediately.
I put the lasagna on a lower level of the fridge, hiding it behind some vegetables I knew Charlie wouldn't reach for.
When I finished cleaning up after myself, and there wasn't any evidence of my cooking frenzy, I went back up to my room. I laid down on my bed. Charlie would be home soon, I wasn't sure when, but I knew there was no way I would be able to relax once he got home.
Whenever Phil had an extra shift, he would always come home angry. He was usually too tired to do much to us physically, but that was when he'd start the mind games.
I was about to start in on some homework, but my phone began chirping. My heart sank in my chest. I knew who it was. Grabbing it, I answered and pressed it to my ear quickly.
"Hello, Isabella." His cool, cruel tone scared me. It was like my thoughts of his mind games notified him. Think of the devil, and the devil will call.
"Hi, Phil," I answered softly. I was in dangerous waters.
"Your mother is at work. I wanted to ask you how your first week at school went."
My days of preparation left me. I didn't know how I would tell him, or what I would tell him. I didn't have my carefully planned wording to present to him.
"Um, it was fine. I think I have a routine now. I just cooked and cleaned for Ch- my dad," I corrected myself quickly, but I knew he had heard. I didn't know how much of a power play he was going for, but any sign of disrespect to Charlie could be something Phil would use against me, maybe telling him.
"Dad…uh…he got me a car." I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the reaction. I knew he wouldn't like it. There was a freedom that came with a car, a freedom I was new to, but growing to like. A freedom that Phil would absolutely not approve of. I tried to quickly make it better. "He didn't want to drive me to school, and the weather would make it hard for me to get there in the winter. Plus, I'm required to go grocery shopping and run errands for him." Maybe making it about my usefulness instead of my freedom would help.
There was silence on the other end of the line. I kept quiet as well. He was there, I knew it. Trying to prompt him would only serve to annoy him.
"That's very nice of him. Your father must be pretty confident that you won't misuse this car."
"He, uh, he gave me some rules before I got it. I have a curfew, and I uh, I need to let him know when I'm out." I cringed a little. Only a bit of a lie. Charlie only insisted on knowing if I would be late, but that counted, right?
"I'll be sure to ask him all about your comings and goings." I froze. I was reminded about the possibility of Charlie tracking me. But that was alright…right? I wasn't planning on misusing the truck. Even when Charlie told me I had a curfew, I thought it silly, since I never intended on being anywhere other than school. Right?
"Of course, Phil. It lets me get home earlier, so I can start homework and cooking sooner." Not a lie, just not what I'd really been using it for so far.
"Have you been a good girl, Isabella?" His tone shifted. Instead of the vaguely threatening tone, it seemed like he knew something. Had Charlie told him about the Cullens? Or my lack of isolation? How would he know? It's not like Charlie and I had spoken. Sure, he might know that the Cullens hadn't moved away, but I hadn't been doing anything to even imply, right?
I gulped, unsure of how to make it through the ordeal. I didn't know why I was so scared. He wasn't here. He couldn't hurt me, not right now, anyway. And he said Renee was at work, so he couldn't even threaten that…not right now, anyway.
But Phil had a very long memory. Sometimes, a punishment would come days after an infraction, even weeks. He wasn't lying when he said that he would save up all my beatings for the next time I visited. I would need to tread carefully. There was enough time to build up so many punishments, it could be brutal.
"I've been doing well in school. I've been taking care of household chores, managing the house. I've made sure not to be a burden on my dad. I haven't been talking to anyone outside of school, and not much in school. I haven't broken any rules." All true statements, though I knew if he had forced me to answer if I was being a good girl, the answer would be no.
Phil called me a good girl when I was at my most meek, submissive, and subservient. I wasn't being that. I was being friendly with people. I was being friendly with boys. At least, I was staying in their presence. The mere proximity to my wickedness was often too much, as Phil told me. I didn't need to do anything to make a man want to hurt me, so showing any attention at all was putting them in a place where they would need to hold back.
I was not being a good girl. I was being wicked, and stupid, and evil. Even now, not admitting to Phil was another point against me.
Phil seemed to know exactly what was on my mind. He made me video call him, and he gave me instructions. Apparently, I wasn't safe from his lessons. I obeyed him, his every word. If I didn't, there would be a beating waiting for my mom when she got home, and I refused to add to her pain, just because I was being wicked.
By the time he hung up, I was crying silently. He had forced me to hit myself, and when he decided I did it too gently, he made me do it again, but harder. I was lucky though. He hadn't pushed it far enough where there would be too many marks from my own violence. There was more he had asked of me. Things I refused to let my mind think about. Since I wasn't there to receive the torment in person, he attempted to make my experience as bad as it could be while I was alone in the supposed safety of my room. He succeeded.
I deserved it. I deserved it. I deserved it.
At least, that was what he'd said. In the time he was directing me, it had begun to rain. The sound of the rain outside my room reminded me of myself. There were things going on, just outside, but the silence inside was so, so loud.
Phil said it was a lesson, a reminder to follow the rules, but I had been, hadn't I?
It was a lesson. I needed to keep myself in check, or how could I expect anyone else to? That was what he wanted me to remember, to take away. But the only thing I could think about was how I could have done better, and I wasn't sure I could have.
I was polite, I was distant, I was barely present, and it still wasn't good enough. Was it supposed to be a reminder to not get too comfortable? But how could I? There was no room to relax, or even breathe, except for the times I was entirely alone.
And I was. Entirely alone, that is. I had been, for a long, long time. Phil made sure to keep me away from people, and he said it was for their own good, or mine, when it came to boys. At least in Phoenix, I could convince myself that I had my mother, but her lack of communication since I had come to Forks reminded me that she hadn't been there. Not really. I couldn't talk to her without fear for our situation. I couldn't call her a friend, and I certainly couldn't call her a mother.
I balled up my fist and realized that I was…mad? It was a feeling I hadn't let myself have in a while. Maybe it was just frustration, or intense exhaustion. I wanted to do as he said, I knew he wanted to torment me, but he wasn't wrong when he said there was danger for me. I wanted to stay safe, as safe as I could be anyway. But I didn't know how much more of a good girl I could be.
A sudden flash of light came in through my window, and I knew Charlie was home. I quickly righted my clothes and wiped the tears from my face. I checked my eyes and decided I wouldn't be able to really keep my crying from Charlie.
I hurried downstairs to meet him when he got in. I went around the kitchen, ready to reheat whatever meal he preferred, but when he got in, he apparently noticed my swollen face and bloodshot eyes right away.
"Bells, are you alright? You look like you were crying."
I nodded and managed to get out, "Yeah, sorry, Dad, I guess I'm just a little homesick."
I realized I wasn't exactly lying. While I was far, far from Phil, and it seemed Charlie was going to save his cruelty for the very worst moments, it was harder here. Back in Phoenix, I knew what I would be dealing with, every day. Here, there was more uncertainty, more mind games, and it made me long for the guaranteed pain I had faced there. Here, it seemed like there were options, I had a chance to live a little better than when I was there, but the worry of it was so, so hard.
I fell asleep that night thinking about how I could be better, how I could keep myself and my mother safe. and how I could force myself to be the good girl Phil wanted me to be. My night was full of dreams, or more accurately nightmares. Memories of supposed infractions, and the lessons that followed them haunted me, waking me every few hours, covered in sweat, staring fearfully into the darkness of my room.
