I do not own Twilight, point blank.
Summary: Bella was kidnapped when she was five years old. From the point on, she has been forced to work as a sex slave and remembers nothing of her past life. Fifteen years later, when she is sent to entertain a party, her world is completely rocked.
Author's Note: I know I have a story for HP that seems similar to this one, but it really wont be. The story will be in Bella's POV, if anyone else comes into play you'll know. Please read & review. Love you all. ALSO! I am aware Demetri is described differently than the book, it's with purpose.
I fell back onto the spring mattress and stared up at the cracked ceiling, a breath barely escaping my lips.
Was this it?
Did I have no tears left?
My body tried once more to force the wetness from my eyes but nothing came. I was completely dry. Twenty years had passed me by and finally, I could no longer cry.
The realization hurt. But just barely. I had more important matters.
Such matters came knocking, quite literally, at that moment. "Bella?" Demetri grunted from outside the door. I winced at the sound of his voice, as if I'd been slapped. "Open the door," He commanded loudly.
My feet responded before my brain did. I was at the door only seconds later, allowing the grown man into my room for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. He said nothing as he bound over to the bed I had just previously been lying on. Demetri was ten, possibly fifteen years older than me. The greasy, brown hair on the back of his head had started to thin out and he had numerous laugh lines around his piercing black eyes. Unlike most men his age, he hadn't developed a beer belly. Instead he was very physically fit and by some women's standards, very handsome. I did not find him so. I guess my view of his was skewed, however. I internally cringed at the sight of him leaning back on his elbows, smirking up at me.
"I have a proposition for you," He said through a sneer. I stared at him, waiting for him to go on. "not very curious are we?"
"It's not like I get much of a choice, is it?" I said through gritted teeth. Demetri outranked me here, which he so commonly loved to throw back in my face. I could not contain the sneer I threw at him. "Is this going to take long? I wanted to shower before it got dark."
In this house, you always shower before dark.
"I just need a quick favor from you first," his lips twitched at his own little joke, "So why don't we get down to that first?"
No matter how badly I wanted to shout, scream, and tear his skin off, I could not. The point was, I had no say. I was a prisoner in this house and he was one of my wards. I did what I was told if I wanted to see the next day. I knew my role. He knew my role. That much was clearly obvious.
Because I was a smart girl, who knew what was best, I set about my task. Slowly, I sunk to my knees before the now standing Demetri and did what I was now numb to. So many times had I been subjected to this torture, it was almost as if I didn't live it anymore. I was so unaware of myself in this time, it was almost like an out of body experience. If I just forgot about it, then it never actually happened. If I couldn't remember it, I would be fine. But that problem was, I always remembered.
When I was done, Demetri roughly pulled me up by my shoulder and tossed me into the wall. He leaned against me heavily, catching me off guard. It took a lot to do that these days, so I gave him credit. "You're pathetic," he spit, his face full with disgust as he looked down at my broken form. I had no room to disagree with him. I remained silent.
"Aro wanted me to tell you that you've been assigned a special task tomorrow night," he pushed away from me at this point in order to approach the door. "You're going to be an entertainer at a birthday party tomorrow. Is that understood?"
"Yes," I mumbled, my spirits broken. He stepped back towards me, as menacing as ever. "I understand, sir."
"Good girl," he stroked my cheek gently before giving it a rough slap. I was unable to meet his unwavering stare. He dropped my face and quickly exited my room.
Once the door slammed shut behind him, I was on my knees. I knelt there, begging God to take my life. Praying to him, asking him to take all this away. How could he have let this happen to me?
Author's Note:I know, it's really short, huh? Well, that's why it's my prologue. Tell me if you think the concept is good enough to continue! I promise things WILL be explained, don't you worry :)