Author: i wanna be a lamb PM
Bella:An unfortunate victim of a mad man's rage.Edward:A lawyer going against his morals and beliefs.They meet one lonely night and feel an instant connection. How will their love last when they discover Edward's involvement in her case? cannon couples,AHRated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Hurt/Comfort - Bella & Edward - Chapters: 2 - Words: 7,144 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 5 - Follows: 5 - Updated: 06-29-10 - Published: 06-17-10 - id: 6059887
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Authors note: okay first of all i dont own twilight. that right is reserve or the lovely mrs. meyer, and second of all, this is my first fic so im really nervous to see what everyone will think of my writing. i've gotten a few friends to read over it and they think it's really good but there definetly a little bit biased so, even though my hands are shaking with nerves im excited to see what people with an unbiased eye owill think of my writing and lastly does anyone want to be my beta? i was trying to figure out how you apply for one on this but couldent really figure it out so if your interested just contact me ok? and now without further adue...my story! enjoy!
CHAPTER 1-THAT NIGHT
"AHHHHH! NO! STOP!" I screamed as images from that night swam behind my eyelids. I was already surrounded by reminders everywhere I looked, must I be denied a decent night sleep as well, because of this asshole? I mean hasn't he done enough already? I mean he's already made me paranoid to the point where I'm afraid of my own shadow and now he cant go one night without haunting my dream and causing me to wake up screaming and in a cold sweat? its so un-fucking-fair!
Life isn't fair, don't you think its about time you got used to it?
I told my inner bitch to take a hike, cause I really cant deal with her bullshit today, even though I'd have to be retarded to not recognise the truth in her words, especially after everything I've been through.
I sighed as I looked over to my nightstand at the alarm clock (the alarm part is pretty fucking useless now though, since I'm always awake hours early because of these nightmares-thank you dickhead!)which read 4:47am. Brilliant. Before the incident if I was ever up this early my mum probably would have thought of it as a sign of the apocalypse.
Oh Renée, how I miss you and your overactive imagination.
I jumped up out of bed and started the descent o the kitchen before all the depressing thoughts could consume me. I tried my best to ignore all the pictures littered all over the walls of us when everything was simple and easy and both of us were still fucking breathing.
I shook my head, in an effort to clear it and started to make my coffee, I didn't bother putting any cream or sugar and just downed the cup black then proceeded to make a second cup. definitely gonna need it after only 2 and a ½ hours sleep, and that sweet shit only dilutes the caffeine anyway.
As I sat there in the kitchen where I grew up, the kitchen where my mother used to prepare dinner every night, I allowed my self to think back on that night, the night my whole world was turned upside down. if only I hadn't opened the fucking door…..
2 MONTHS EARLIER:
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"What the fuck?" I mumbled groggily, as I was awoken from a lovely dream about me and Christian bale on a private beach somewhere in the Bahamas. Ok, whoever it is that just woke me up is about to get the biggest ass-whopping of their lives, because seriously, its just plain cruel to be so rudely awakened from a dream that scrumptious.
I stumbled down the stairs, a voice in the back of my head telling me that I'm making almost as much noise with my two left feet as the banger and with the two of us combined my poor mother can kiss good bye to sleeping through this. Yes, I know, a 23 year old English student still living with mommy dearest, so sad. But it really didn't make sense for me to get my own place when, if I stayed here, I'm 10 minutes away from college and only about 5 away from work. So really what's the point in moving when the chances that I'll be placed in a better location than the one I'm already in are slim to none? Plus its free.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Jesus, impatient much?" I grumbled as whoever was banging so loudly- asshole- pulled me out of my thoughts.
"This had better be good, or I swear to…" the words died on my throat as I came face-to-face with my own personal definition of persistent…or fucking prick, whichever you prefer.
James and I went out a couple of times a few months back. On our first date he took me to McDonalds and a drive-in movie, he was a complete dipshit with an IQ of about two-not to mention his cheapskate tendencies- but he made me laugh and that is the only reason I agreed to a second date.
This time he took me to see one of his friends bands, which were complete and utter shit, I don't know how they can call themselves a band because I swear at one point I actually thought my ears were bleeding. No joke. So anyway, James went over to talk to his friends and I was stuck in a crowd of druggies and alcoholics. Fun right? So at this point I was extremely bored and miserable and that shit(cause it sure as fuck wasn't music) that the so called 'band' were playing definitely wasn't helping my mood, and then because I figured 'hey, it cant make me feel any worse, right?' I bought a drink to try and lift my spirits, then I got another one, then another and that's where I lost count so by the end of the night I was completely sloshed at which point I, oh so gracefully, threw up all over the table an the bartender got me a taxi home.
It wasn't until the next morning when I got a heated call from James that I remembered I was there with him and I never told him I was going. But when he started screaming how I should have waited for him and I didn't have his permission to leave and all that shit, I proceeded to tell him, in the nicest way possible of course, to shut the fuck up because I had barely seen him all night and I don't need his fucking permission to go home from a shit date, and then hung up on the prick.
He called and apologised, sent me flowers and wrote me a letter until I eventually forgave him, because really he was just getting annoying at this point. He then asked if he could take me to dinner to show how sorry he was. I really didn't want to get back into a relationship-if you could even call it that in the first place- with him and I told him as much, not as bluntly, mind you, but still I definitely made it clear that there was no future for us as a couple and he said he understood that, obviously not though, when we were finished dinner and I got up to leave he gabbed me and kissed me roughly, and obviously enough I pushed him away.
He did not like that.
He smacked me and told me not to 'fucking dare try and push him away' to which I responded with a swift kick to the balls, and while he was doubled over in pain on the floor I legged it onto the street and got a taxi home where I proceeded to lock every door and window in the house.
I got flowers everyday from him and sorry cards and chocolates and every other thing under the sun associated with 'apologies' but I had made the mistake of excepting an apology from him before and I sure as shit wasn't gonna make it again. so he just kept sending stuff and I just kept binning it which meant I had to empty the bins a lot more because there was a fuckload of stuff…..
"hello Isabella" his voice brought me back to the present and in my now very awake state I gave him a once over. James definitely was not a very attractive man. I mean some girls might think his body was nice and it was, he was toned, tall enough and had the whole bad boy look goin on with the leather jacket, long hair pushed back in a ponytail and black doc martins, but it doesn't matter what good qualities his appearance has because his eyes and cocky attitude overshadow all that. His eyes are a dark gray but the expression in them right now was hungry and enraged, kinda like the night we had dinner…
Ok, are you just severely retarded or do you really have a death wish? Why the fuck did you go out with this creep?
Now I know my inner bitch is annoying as fuck most of the time, but right now, looking at this psycho, I couldn't help but agree with her.
Finally! She has seen the light!
Oh shut the fuck up!
Fantastic. Now I'm talking to myself, the first sign of madness, I wonder if there's enough money in my bank account to cover a trip to the coo coo farm….
"aren't you even going to say hello to me? You really are something else. I mean I've said sorry, even though I really don't see the point, I was just going after what's mine. I've given you flowers, chocolates…what else do you want from me Bella?" he said with a little more than slight irritation.
"I want you to leave." thankfully my voice was steady and strong, even though inside I was shaking like a leaf and calling for my mommy.
Something inside him seemed to snap as the words left my mouth, his eyes flared in anger and suddenly he has me pinned up against the wall, his hand around my throat, making it really hard for me to breathe.
"you ungrateful little bitch!" he screamed in my face. "I've been fucking working my ass off, trying to keep you pleased, then when I put you in your place when you tried to push me away, you think you can just push me out of you life? I don't fucking think so princess!"
He started to punch me in the face repeatedly and while he was so close I could distinctly smell alcohol on his breathe. I tried to get away from him but come on. I weigh like 1/2 of what he does and he's all muscle, plus he's taller and more experienced in fights than I am so I don't have a chance.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I realised that all the noise would probably have woke the neighbours and definitely my mother, but I couldn't focus on anything other than the pain in my face. I could feel the blood running down my nose and realised it must be broken, and my jaw didn't feel to much better either.
Suddenly he threw me on the floor with enough force to snap the wrist of my hand that I tried to break my fall with, and my head was banged hard enough to make me all woozy. I was openly bawling now and it didn't help matters when he stepped down really hard on my ankle and caused it to make a disgusting cracking sound.
"aww, don't cry princess it'll be over soon, I just have to take what's mine and then I'll end your misery, okay?" he said in a sickly sweet voice just as he pulled out a revolver and ok I know this is really fucking cliché but I fucking gasped.
Oh fuck, you've really done it now haven't you? You couldn't just go out with some nice little nerdy guy? Now he's gonna kill us both!
Just then movement on the stairs caught my eye and I think my heart stopped for a minute. There stood my mother, in her oversized pjs, holding a baseball bat in her hands with tears streaming down her face. James must have noticed where my gaze was focused because he turned towards her and she charged at him with the bat, when faster than lightning he had the gun cocked and fired and she fell with blood ozzing from the middle of her chest. He shot her in the heart.
"NOOOOOOO! MUM! WAKE UP! YOU BASTARD, YOU KILLED HER!" my enraged scream didn't seem to bother him as there was another shot fired and a searing pain went all up my thigh and I cried out in pain.
"could you please be quiet? Your giving me a headache. And its only a flesh wound, stop being so dramatic" he said as he rolled his fucking eyes at me!
I couldn't even respond to that other than crying and screaming, I was in so much pain. What was I meant to say anyway 'oh I'm sorry for screaming at you James, thank you for only shooting me somewhere that it will hurt like a bitch but not actually kill me'? yeah right.
Through the clouds of pain I could hear some rustling and plastic rapper being ripped when I felt two sweaty hands tugging at my trousers which jostled my sore leg and caused me to scream in pain and my sobs to become heavier as I realized what he was about to do.
Just as I felt his weight resting on top of me he was yanked off and I was being treated by two men one about 24 and the other older around 45 both dressed in paramedic uniforms and both trying, and failing, to calm me down.
"my mom, my mom" I kept chanting over and over as I tried to tell them to go over and treat her first, even though deep down I knew that there was nothing they could for her now, but even if she cold be saved I was in too much pain to even complete a whole fucking sentence.
I started to feel sleepy and the last thing I remember is a big muscley guy pounding his fist into James face before the blackness consumed me.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
that's the sound I awoke to in the hospital 3 days later with a broken wrist, broken ankle, broken nose, dislocated jaw, concussion and oh yeah, remember that 'flesh wound'? yeah, apparently asswipe only thought it was a lesh wound and it actually could have killed me. Seriously if they had got there like 5 minutes later I would have been fucked. So yeah…good call on that on Jimbo. Not.
"b?" Emmett my older brother asked as I cringed away from those really fucking bright hospital lights. I was confused for a few minutes when out of nowhere it all came crashing down on me, James, the gun, my mom….
"where's mom?" I asked frantically as I held on to the tiny shred of hope I had left. Maybe she's ok, I mean the paramedics got there pretty fast….
But one look at my usually chipper brothers face said it all. She's gone.
"I' m so fucking sorry b," he said while taking me into his arms as sobs overtook my body, ignoring the flare of pain that went with moving now. I was about to ask him what the fuck he was sorry for, when I was the one who started this whole mess when he continued "I should have been there to protect you, I would have been able stop him and then mom would still be here and you would be at home away from all these fucking machines."
Oh my god. He blames himself. Ok, we gotta nip this one in the bud. "Emmet, look at me." I had to grab his chin and force him to do that of course because he sure as shit wasn't going to do it willingly-stubborn bastard-and what I saw just made my heart break a little bit more. He was crying. The only other time I've seen Emmet cry was when he broke his arm falling from a tree and he was 11 when that happened. I wiped his tears away with my thumbs and gave him a sad smile. "this is NOT your fault Em, I'm kinda shocked your not screaming at me right mow because, believe me, if its anyone's fault its mine. I'm the one who agreed to go out with the psycho in the first place, I accepted his first apology, I opened the fucking door without even checking to see who….." my voice faded out as my sobs got to heavy to speak over and I was, once again, encircled in strong arms.
"I don't ever want to hear you talk like that again, do you hear me?" he said desperately. "this is not your fault, that guy just has a few to many screws loose, and that is in no way, shape or form down to you, it was just bad luck that he happened to choose you as his victim and I know for a fact that mom would kick your ass all the way into next Sunday if she heard you beating yourself up over this." he repeated my actions from earlier and swiped his thumb under my eyes to wipe away the tears that had fallen during his speech, but were quickly replaced by more because hearing him talking about our happy vibrant mother in the past tense just made me cry harder.
"thank you" I mumbled into his chest as he rocked me back and forth and shhed me, trying to soothe me. I was insanely relieved when I heard the words leave his mouth and that just made me feel extremely guilty. I caused my moms death. I took his mother, the one constant in his life, away from him and here he is soothing me and saying its not my fault when we both know it clearly is, he should be screaming and throwing stuff at me. I don't know, maybe he's in denial, or maybe he's in shock and he'll snap out of it in a few minutes and throw a fit, or maybe he just doesn't want to believe his now only living relative -thanks to me- is capable of something like that…. And now I really feel like shit. Great. But I couldn't help but be grateful that he didn't seem to blame me because I honestly don't think I could take it if he hated me.
Eventually both of our sobs died down and Emmett got up to go back on the chair, while I laid down on the bed, our hands intertwined and I drifted off into a nice dreamless sleep.
Unfortunately that was the very last time I fell into a fucking nice dreamless sleep. Every night since then my sleeps -which are few and far between anyways- are most definitely NOT dreamless, well I suppose they kinda are in a way, I mean nightmares aren't really dreams, right?
I let out a sob as I slid down the fridge. why did it have to be me? Why couldn't he have had an obsession with someone else? As soon as that thought entered my head I was overcome with yet another wave of guilt. I've just gone through hell and back because of this guy and my stupid actions and I'm wishing it on someone else?
That was the last straw, I got up off the floor and headed into the living room and went straight for the bottle of Jack on the shelves. A small part of me acknowledged the fact that it was really fucking retarded to drink liquor while on prescription medication but at this point I really couldn't give a fuck. So what I something goes wrong, its not like I have much reason to live anyway, I thought as I gulped down the jack, enjoying the burn as it slid down my throat. I settled into the couch and continued to drink away my sorrows until eventually blackness enveloped me and I prayed that my temerity numbness wouldn't be interrupted by those fucking nightmares.
A/N: so? what did you think? was it crap? good? reviews welcome! (please go easy on me)
p.s. check Out these fics, their great!
You don't know anything-twidi