I didn't know what love was, until I met you: Chapter one
I do not own Twilight, or any of its characters. They were all created thanks to Stephanie Meyer.
My eyes followed a single raindrop slither down my bedroom window. After finally escaping from my trance, I gave my attention to my wrist. It was aching with pain as my blood started to ooze out of the seventeen puckered cuts. One cut for each year of my life that has been a living hell. I traced my fingers over the cuts and felt the tears welling up in my eyes again.
So many dreadful memories were still left in this house. I can still remember the night it all started like it was yesterday. I was twelve years old, and Charlie and Renee were fighting again downstairs. They always fought, every day to be more exact. I remember standing at the top of the stairs and seeing Renee lying on the floor while clutching her face and crying. She was shouting at the top of her lungs that she was leaving Charlie and taking me with her. He stood over her with a sly grin and shook his head.
"You're not gonna leave me till I say it's time for you to leave."
And after saying this, he grabbed his gun from his sheriff's belt and pointed it at her.
"And Renee, I think your right, it is time for you to leave."
After I heard the gunshot, I screamed and tried to run back into my room. But Charlie was too fast. He broke three of my ribs and my right leg after throwing me down the stairs next to my mother's dead body. When he took me to the hospital, he told the doctors that my mother had been shot by the same man that had beat me. And of course, with him being the county sheriff, they believed him. And ever since then, my father has gotten away with abusing me. It was only about a year after my mother died, that I first found comfort in cutting myself.
I checked the clock on my bedside table. Five thirty-seven. I sighed and pulled my bruise and scar covered body out of bed. I needed to hurry and leave for school before Charlie woke up. I opened the folding doors of my closet and flickered through some shirts that were hanging up. I finally settled on a long-sleeved black sweater that would easily hide the new bruise on my shoulder. After getting dressed, I brushed my teeth, grabbed a chewy bar out of the kitchen cabinet, and then ran outside. I had no car, so I needed to walk to school in the pouring rain, just like I did every day. My sneakers sloshed in the rain puddles alongside the road. I shivered and folded my arms across my chest to attempt to keep myself warm, but it was to no avail. I had walked about a half mile, until a shiny silver Volvo pulled up beside me. The driver, whoever it was, rolled down their window and leaned across the passenger seat.
"Do you need a ride to school, Bella?"
Edward Cullen, the most beautiful boy in school, was asking me, the social outcast, if I needed a ride. I didn't even know he knew my name.
"I…um…well…" I was literally at a loss for words.
"Just get in, Bella, your soaking wet."
I looked down at myself. I was dripping from every part of my body with rain. Edward shoved the door open for me and patted the seat. I really was getting wet and cold, so I climbed into his toasty car. As soon as the door was closed, he sped off with such speed that it was apparent that it was not in the speed limit.
"How..uh…how do you know my name?" I asked as a shiver rattled throughout my entire body.
He chuckled a small laugh before answering. "I know a lot more about you than just your name."
Usually, a comment like that would scare me, but the way he said it….it was kind of… flattering. But what was I thinking? What would a guy like Edward know about me? Did he even really say that?
"Are you warm enough?" He asked turning toward me with a look of concern.
But I couldn't answer him right away. I was too mesmerized by his eyes. They weren't blue, green, or even brown. They were a mixture of a yellowish amber and brown. The most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. I stared into them and tried to remember where I had seen that color before. Then, it hit me. It was the color of my mother's birthstone. Topaz. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes, but I fought them back with some determination.
"Bella? Are you ok? You look really pale."
But then his facial expression changed from worried to concentration. He took one deep breath, and then seized my wrist with his right hand. After that he spun the car around to drive in the opposite direction, and pulled my sleeve up to my elbow and gazed down at the cuts on my wrist. Blood was seeping out of each cut. The rust smell filled my lungs and made me queasy. The last thing that I was conscious of was Edward talking on his cell phone so fast, that it seemed humanly impossible.