This chapter contains some of Bella's memories of Abuse

Chapter 2: Neither Heaven nor Hell

Bella's POV

Logically I know that I'm not actually burning alive. If I were, then the pain would be excruciating, yes, but my nerve endings would be burned away quickly. The smoke would do me in, suffocating me as I struggled to draw my last breath. It would be over.

. . . This is worse. This never-ending pain didn't make sense and I briefly wondered if I was in hell.

I have no frame of reference for the amount of time that has passed. Has it been hours? Days? Or only seconds?

Normally I'm good at repressing unpleasant things, though I didn't seem to have luxury at the moment. It felt like forever til the pain faded, and when it did it happened almost instantly as my heart beat its last beat. I didn't move, afraid the burning pain would come back.

Something was wrong. . . that's the only logical explanation I can come up with. I have no concept about the amount of time that has passed, the burning was constant and overwhelming, each moment blurring into the next.

Am I dead? I should be yet here I am, wherever this is.

My mind is restless like every part is being used to its full potential. My brain is awake even though I know I haven't slept. It was overwhelming, yet my brain could easily sort out each and every sound around me in an instant.

I can hear too far, that's the only way I can describe it. I've never heard anything so clear before. I can hear a radio play a classic rock song in a car driving by miles away, rain ricocheting off the ground, the splash of the running water as a fish jumps and dives. . . And two things- people?- breathing close by. They didn't have a heartbeat. . . but it appears I don't have one at the moment, either.

"Isabella?" A soft but deep voice close by calls for me.

Before my mind can process that I want to move, I'm already sitting up on the bed I was lying in, my wide eyes focused on the two people in the room with me.

"Bella." I correct automatically. My hand grasps my throat when a voice different from my own comes out when I speak.

"Bella, then." He smiles kindly. "My name is Carlisle, and this is my wife Esme." The man says softly, unsure how I'll react. He doesn't move towards me and I appreciate it.

I nod hesitantly. He looks vaguely familiar, like a blurry, unclear memory in the back of my mind. . . but I know my eyes hadn't done him justice before now, he looks like a god. But I remember his arms around me, his lips on my hair. . . how I'd felt safe for the first time in so long.

"I'm sure you're confused and we will do our best to answer any questions you have. You can ask us anything." The woman says.

The man looks at her and smiles in agreement, holding one of her hands in his. "Bella, sweetheart, I don't know if you remember right now but you were in a car accident with your Father a few days ago."

"No," I don't want to believe it. If my heart was beating I'm sure it would be going so fast that you couldn't distinguish one beat from the next. "Is-" I pause when I hear the strange musical voice again. "Is he- can I see him?" The anxiety is clear in my voice and I want to cry but no tears will seem to fall.

The woman takes my hand, hers soft and warm as she shakes her head. "I'm sorry. He died instantly, Sweetheart. I promise you he didn't feel any pain."

All I seem to remember is pain. The shock of her words cleared my mind of internal conflict instantly but I knew the grief would overcome me soon like the sword of Damocles. I blinked away the tears that were threatening to escape and clenched my fists tightly so that I could feel my sharp nails digging into the palms of my hands. I just got him back, I never had a chance to know him.

Carlisle's words broke through. "You were hurt badly and were very close to death. There was only one way to save you," he says. I nod, wanting him to continue. He watched me closely. "I turned you into a vampire."

"A. . . vampire?" What. The. Hell. "Like m-mythical creature vampire?" No way.

"Yes." Was his simple reply. I don't really know what answer or explanation I was expecting.

My hand goes to my throat and I suddenly realize feels strangely sore, yet there's no pain audible in my voice. There isn't pain from the hand-shaped bruises, either.

It had hurt to swallow, I hadn't been able to eat anything that wasn't liquid in days, and even then it was a struggle. I remember the brief moments of stress when I worried what I would tell Charlie. My mother had never been sympathetic if I was hurt, she believed I should have been more careful or somehow been able to control what happened to me. I hadn't wanted to come here and found out Charlie was the same so I planned to keep any injuries secret (besides what he knew from the hospital in Phoenix).

No other pain seemed to plague me, besides the sore throat that was more uncomfortable than painful.

"I know your throat hurts now. We'll go hunting soon and that will help, I promise." Carlisle said.

Hunt?

"I-I don't want to hurt anyone." I don't think I could handle the guilt if I were to kill someone. . . Except maybe Phil.

"We don't want that either, and we will do our best to not put you in a position where that will happen. Our family survives off the blood of animals rather than humans."

This is another time they've referred to their family as 'our' family. I don't know why I would be included in that. . . Or maybe I'm just projecting. 'Our' probably refers to the two of them.

'My Dad was my family. . . so now I just have Renee and-' I grimace at the thought. I'm alone.

All my life I thought my Father was dead, that's what Renee told me until I found my birth certificate when I had to register to change high schools. It all started when my English teacher became concerned when I came in with my latest broken wrist after my other arm cast came off. Phil was at fault and wasn't happy. He demanded that Renee move me to a different school. I didn't really care, I never had many friends anyway. The day we were scheduled to go there she forgot and went out with her friends, or rather didn't come home after she went out with her friends the night before. Phil, much to his disdain, had to go with me since she wasn't. We went into registration with my fake proof of address and birth certificate. Phil said he was my Father but when they noticed his name wasn't on my birth certificate he clarified and said I was his step-daughter. Public schools aren't paid enough to care to look into any inconsistencies and register me without any further delays. Phil handed me everything and I stayed silent by his side, following him to his car. When he stopped by a liquor store on the way home, leaving me alone in the car, I looked at my birth certificate for the first time. My Father's name was listed 'Charlie Swan' along with my place of birth 'Forks General Hospital in Forks, Washington.' I'd never even seen his name before, I always assumed I was born in Phoenix because this is where I was raised. I've been there as long as I can remember, even before my Mom met Phil.

That moment really changed my life, though I'm not sure if it changed it as much as this moment, but when Phil put me in the hospital this last time when my 'parents' were forced out of my room while a social worker came, I asked her if she could give me her phone to call my father. I was willing to take my chances, to risk that Charlie would be like Phil. I hoped he was still alive, and luckily the town was small enough that it was easy to track down the Chief of Police. . . And now he's gone and I'm alone again.

I don't want to get my hopes up that they'd want me, I'm safer keeping my expectations realistic. The question remains, though, how long will it be until they make me go back to Renee and Phil? And will I actually go back or can I run away? I'm not that far from eighteen.

"Bella?" The lady, Esme, calls.

I flinch and look up surprised, a little guilty at having my mind go off on a tangent while they were speaking to me. Renee hated it when I did that.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?" She asks. I'm sure she's reading my face like a book.

My mind, though working in a way it never had before, still couldn't comprehend what their words meant but this seemed like a roadblock I couldn't move past until I knew. "Please don't make me go back." I shamelessly beg. I didn't care if it was childish or weak, I would beg if I had to.

"Back where, Sweetheart?"

"To live with my Mom. Please, I can't." Don't cry.

"Oh Bella." Esme pulled me into her lap like I weighed nothing, wrapping me in her arms as I curled into her warm embrace. "You never have to go back, I promise." As uncertain as my life is right now it's still preferable to the hell I was living under their roof. "You're safe here."

"We would like you to stay with us. You don't have to make the decision right away, you're always welcome and we would never hold you against your will if you do decide to leave." Carlisle reaches for my hands curled into tight fists in my lap. "The choice is up to you, but we would love it if you stayed."

"Bella, I know that you are very confused," Esme's voice filled my ears and my attention returned to her. My mother did teach me manners, and I wouldn't show the Cullen matriarch any disrespect in her own home.

"In fact, I know, for all of us, we see it as our duty to take you under our wing. There are things that you need to know about living as a vampire, and it will be much easier to have the support of people who understand." Esme's tone was perfect, maternal, and soothing.

I felt mothered in a way that had never worked for Renee and me, I was more of a parent in that relationship. I savored the feeling that someone cared enough to take care of me, even if it was only for a short while.

It seems like they're leaving the ball in my court, and I don't know how to respond to that. No one has ever asked me what I wanted. . . Or said that they wanted me. I could spend endless days dissecting their words and what they mean. Before I can respond they're speaking again.

"We have five other children, three boys and two girls. They're not here at the moment, the two youngest are looking for a house for us to move into in Northern Canada. It's rural and it'll be a good place for us to live while you work on your control and thirst."

"Control?" Control of what?

"You said you didn't want to hurt anyone. Until you are able to control your thirst around humans, it would be best to avoid them completely, or as much as possible. The first year is the hardest but we will all be here for you." He says. "It's hard work but it is possible."

I nod though his words aren't making much sense with my lack of a frame of reference.

"I know this is confusing right now, take your time," Esme tells me, running her fingers through my hair. I have not seen a hint of malice in them so far. It unsettles me more than I dare to admit.

I'm still on Esme's lap but I can't feel embarrassed, I'm craving a comfort I was never offered in my previous life. Safe. She said the word before but what does it mean here? I know I shouldn't trust them but I so badly want to. I sigh softly at my conflicting thoughts. Regardless, I'm glad I no longer seem to be able to blush. It was a curse I won't miss anytime soon.

I can't remember a time when there weren't bruises littering my body.

My eyes look down on my hand being held in Esme's, our hands so similar. My skin was different now, paler than I had ever been before and free of blemishes. The dark spot on my palm from where I burned my hand while teaching myself to cook at six is gone completely. The pain from my wrist isn't there anymore. . . None of my usual aches and pains linger. Curious, I rolled up the bottom left side of my shirt, but the skin was smooth and clear. I run my fingers over it, feeling for the rough scar tissue left behind, it was always uneven and hard, but not anymore.

Right next to a 3rd degree burn scar there was a rugged slash from when I tried to stab Phil. Try to hurt him so he could never hurt me again. Try was the key word because he easily overpowered me and dug the knife deep inside me, shredding my left ovary and part of my small intestine.

I had thought that he was passed out on the couch, drunk as usual. I took a serrated kitchen knife and aimed for his heart, or where it would be if he had one. I didn't want him to have any chance of being saved by a 'miracle'. As I was about to stab him, he opened his eyes, surprising me long enough for him to take the knife from my hand, breaking my wrist in the process. Without even thinking about it, he turned the knife against me and plunged it deep into my abdomen.

With his face against mine, nose to nose, he made sure I knew that if I ever tried something like that again, or ever told anyone what he did to me then he would kill not only me but my Mother as well.

I can feel their eyes on me but I can't meet them. "The venom destroys any imperfections in your skin; scars, freckles, burns, birth defects, anything along those lines," Carlisle explained as if he could read my mind.

"H-he didn't know I l-left. Charlie arranged everything. I told him and my Mom that I was spending the night at a friend's house. . ." I trailed off. How many days passed? Are they already looking for me? "I used what money I had to buy a suitcase at the airport. Charlie s-said he would pay me back. He, he didn't want me to look like a runaway. He didn't want anyone to s-st-stop me and risk-taking me back. . . He said he would pr-protect me. I-I can't go back there, p-please." I feel the panic set in, my breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. I spoke more now than I have in as long as I can remember, and these people have already been kinder to me than anyone but Charlie has in a long time. I don't want to anger them lest they make me leave. And where will I go then?

"We won't force you to go anywhere, especially back to where you were before, Bella. You are and always will be welcome to live with us." Esme promises, running her fingers through my hair. "You're safe here," Esme said, giving my shoulder a soft squeeze.

It was so maternal that I leaned into it. It had been so long since I had any affection or human contact, or anyone who showed the slightest concern for me.

I was confused by her continual displays of affection. I wasn't used to being touched so casually like that by anyone.

"And we will protect you, I give you my word," Carlisle adds.

I don't know how to respond to that so I stay quiet. I refuse to let myself hope that what they are saying is true. If I know one thing it is that people lie.

I decided to change the subject lest I let my mind go down that dark path so soon. "W-when are your, um, other kids coming home?"

"Alice, Edward, and Jasper will be home in a few days. Rosalie and Emmett are looking for an isolated house for us to live through your newborn year, you'll meet them then."

"Alice loves you already. She can see the future. She is the one who told us where to find you so we could save you."

They don't seem aggravated by my questions like Renee always was but my voice is still timid and unsure. "W-what are the others like?"

"Edward can read minds, he was the first person I changed, but I'll let him tell you his story. Jasper is an empath. He can read and influence people's emotions." He starts.

Esme takes over. "Rosalie was changed after I was. She found Emmett when he was dying from a bear attack and brought him home. They aren't gifted as the others are, no need to worry." It seemed she easily caught my shock at Carlisle's words.

I've never been a person of many words, much like my Father in that respect, I assume. I replied 'yeah,' and prayed they wouldn't press for more. I have no words in response to what they've told me so I nod slightly.

I don't know why my mother and he believed me when I said I was staying with a friend, they knew very well that I kept to myself and didn't have any real friends. I can think of only a handful of people who would sit next to me in class. . . One girl, I can't even remember her name, I realized with some guilt, that she was a foster child and we had an understanding that we had both seen more than we should have in our short lives. We didn't comment on a new cast or the baggy clothes to cover our injured bodies. It was better to not ask questions. I didn't invite her over and she didn't invite me, we only sat next to each other so we wouldn't be the weird girls sitting alone. I'm sure they didn't comment because they wanted me gone, now that I think about it. I shudder as I vividly remember the feeling of his hands closing around my neck that last night, the feeling of not being able to breathe. I panicked and ran, not thinking anything past getting away.

My eyes lock in my reflection in the glass of the window. I'm up before my mind realizes I moved. My eyes no longer show the telltale red splotches that indicate strangulation. These should have taken months to heal, but that wasn't the only oddity with my appearance. My fingers go to my eyes, to the brilliant red that was once dark brown.

"It'll fade," Esme assures me.

My eyes look at her reflection next to me, her eyes still a soft golden color.

"We drink animal blood, it's why our eyes are gold rather than the red yours are at the moment," Carlisle adds.

"Oh." What else is there to say?

I've been looking for a silver lining, but haven't found it yet.

Blü Eyes - Wish We Never Happened

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Next up is Bella's first hunting expedition!