Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. Stephenie Meyer does and I love her for creating these characters and her story that goes along with them.

I was sitting at my desk doing my homework when suddenly the alarm next to me went off and I jumped out of the chair I was sitting in and fell to the floor due to my extreme lack of coordination. So I grabbed my I-Pod, put it on shuffle, put my ear-buds in, and turned the volume all the way up. Then I walked to my closet grabbing a hand full of clothes, pulling them off the hangers, and then piling them on top of me. I was suddenly awaken by the sounds of glass breaking and then screaming which was not an unusual sound for my house. Normally my I-Pod would drowned out those noises, but for some reason it had stopped playing. So I felt around though the pile of clothes that surrounded me and found my I-Pod, which was dead. I suddenly felt panic take over but quickly got control of myself and tried to use the clothes around me to block out the screaming, but Phil was screaming too loud. Deciding the sleep was not going to happen for me tonight I deicided to take this time to write in my dairy. So I grabbed the flashlight above my head that I kept in the closet for both protection (since it was big and heavy) and for seeing when I wanted to write or go to the bathroom with out anyone noticing.

When I was almost done with my entry for the day I heard a loud bang that shook my wall and then silence. A sudden lump formed in my throat. The one thing I hated worse then the screaming was when there was silence. I guess it was because when I could still hear screaming and yelling I know that Phil had not killed my mother. While that was a sad way to look at it, that was how I saw it. So I quickly went back to writing in my journal trying to distract myself from the sudden silence that had taken over the house. I heard footsteps coming towards my room so I quickly turned off my flashlight and held my breath. The footsteps got louder and then stopped at my door. The door flew open and Phil entered staggering a bit due to his drunken state. He looked around my room looking for his next victim. He was about to leave when suddenly I coughed (due to the cold I had caught last week when he locked me out of the house in a thunderstorm in the 60 degree weather). His head wiped over to the closet and with an evil grin, he swung open the closet doors and looked around but since I was safely hidden under a pile of clothes and he was to drunk to really get a good look, he could not find me. So after about five minutes of looking he suddenly turned and puked all over my floor. With that he left and headed towards his room. Within minutes I could hear his snoring and knew that it was now safe to go check on my mother.

I grabbed my flashlight and first aid kit that was hidden under my bed and headed downstairs. I went to the kitchen and looked around, but did not find my mother. I looked in all the other rooms in the house and still could not find Renee. I started to panic and then rage built up in me. All I could think about was what the bastard did to my mother. Without thinking or even relalizing what I was doing, I ran into my step-father's room and shook him furiously, tears filling my eyes. He awoke and then his eyes fell on me and sudden fury and a smile played across his lips that normally would have sent me running, but not tonight. I needed to know where my mother was.

As he gripped onto my arms, I pulled him off and yelled "WHAT DID YOU DO TO RENEE!?" not sure of where I was suddenly finding this strength that I would surely regret soon.

With that, the smile that played across his lips got bigger and he started to walk towards me, but I didn't move an inch. I plainly looked at him in the eyes and yelled once more "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY MOTHER YOUR DRUNKEN AS-" but I was cut off by all the wind escaping from my lungs and falling to the ground as I was punched in the gut by Phil. I once again was about to repeat my question when he finally spoke.

He looked me dead in the eye and said in a clam voice "She left. She could not handle your screams anymore."

I was not expecting his answer and it took me off guard and that gave him a chance to kick me in the ribs. When I let out a tad bit of a scream, he found this as even more of a reason to kick me again and again and again and on the 4th or 5th kick I felt something snap and I started to feel the darkness taking over. Phil was not done with his fun yet and seeing that I was about to black out, he grabbed me by the wrist pulling me back to my feet and slapped me across the face. I started to come back around and Phil dragged me to the bed. Tears started to well up in my eyes as the realization of what Phil was about to do hit me. Suddenly I felt the adrenaline kick in and I found new strength to fight him, but this just made him even angrier.

But I finally got away from him and was about to make it to my room when he grabbed my waist and I screamed.

But he just covered my mouth and yelled "Shut up, slut!" and whispered in my ear "Playing hard to get won't help you Isabella" and with that he threw me onto the bed pulling my wrist above my head and against the headboard and then everything went black.

Hey guys, its Ali. I wrote this sonnet for Alisa's first chapter of Dont touch me b/c it inspired me. Please R&R Thank You!! :D


A Victim's Sonnet

I hear the sounds again, right outside my room.
My mother's screaming and my father's yells.
My house is not a haven. It's a tomb.
It's like I live in each of the seven hells.
I hide in my closet, praying for help.
God doesn't seem to grant my prays today
As dad finds me and beats me. Leaving welts.
Hope isn't there. It's just an abyss of gray.
The noise is not the worst thing, it's the silence.
Everyday, I see my mom's life slip away.
Oh God, please help me. I need some guidance.
Someone to tell the words I need to say.
He comes at me again with another blow.
Angels, please take us away from this foe.