disclaimer. dont own twilight.
authors note; i have been working on this for a while. i hope you enjoy.
I crawled over to the cabinet trying to hide. Charlie came out of the kitchen holding a knife in one hand and a beer in the other.
"Come out you little whore!" he said tauntingly.
I sat in the corner and tried to hush my sobs and trying to hide as long as possible. I never should have tried to get away.
"Come out come out wherever you are. You can't hide forever!" he yelled causing me to cry harder. 'Why does he do this to me' I thought to myself
He started walking around the room. Looking behind plants and behind the TV. When he reached the cabinet I started to cry harder. He opened it and saw me in there trying to hide. Charlie pulled me by my hair out of it. He threw me against the wall. When I hit it I crumpled against the wall and cried harder.
"You little cry baby," Charlie taunted "you brought this on yourself you little bitch. Stand up!' he continued
When I didn't stand up he said, "I said stand up, or it's going to be a lot worse"
I used all my strength to stand up. When I was up he slapped me and it sent me right back to the floor. "Get up!" he yelled again
When I didn't get up he pulled me up and then took my hand and put the knife to my palm. This caused me to cry harder. "Please" I begged, "don't do this"
Me pleading caused him to laugh. He pressed the knife harder into my palm. I could see little droplets of blood coming from my hand.
He dragged the knife down my palm and into my wrist, and it hurt. A lot. There was a lot of blood now, and it was making me very dizzy.
Charlie continued to hit me and hurt me for a little longer. Then he went upstairs and went to bed. It amazed me that he could just not even care what he was doing to me, and just brush it off.
I was feeling very lightheaded and I knew it was from the blood loss and blood. I dragged myself to the kitchen to get a rag. I pressed down on my wrist trying to stop the bleeding, but I wasn't doing a very good job.
I half wanted to just die and get out of this life, but I knew I had a life a head of me that I had to live, and that was what was keeping me going day after day. The fact that one day I would get out of this dark place and live my life. I pressed down harder on the cut, still trying to stop the bleeding. The rag was getting bloodier and bloodier and I was getting very dizzy. If I went to the hospital Charlie would just hurt me more because someone might be suspicious.
After about five minutes the bleeding stopped some, so I walked upstairs, trying to not wake him up and went to the bathroom. I was still very dizzy, but I took the rag off the cut and examined it. It ran from the middle of my palm to the middle of my forearm. I ran some water over it and tried my best to clean it with the first aid kit I had hidden in the bathroom. Luckily the cut wasn't very deep.
When it was as dry as it was going to get I wrapped gauze around it and put the medical tape around it to hold it in place.
After I had finished tending to the gash in my arm, I tiptoed back to my room, knowing it would be very bad if I woke Charlie up.
When I was in my room, I shut my door and locked it. I crawled onto my bed, which was just a mattress thrown on the floor with a very thin blanket, and cried myself to sleep as I did every night.
That was when I was 10, actually that was my 10th birthday, and now I'm 16. Now Charlie's a lot worse. He doesn't just abuse me he taunts me. Everyone in school thinks I'm just a little freak. Life just sucks.
Right now that's where I was, in school. You would think that I would get used to being ignored and no one liking everyday, but I haven't. Not in 16 years.
When the final bell rang I stood up, trying my best not to put too much pressure on my right ankle or bump into anyone. Last night Charlie had been much to drink and hurt me more then usual. He had pushed my down the steps resulting in a very swollen ankle.
I walked out to the hallway and went to my locker. On my way there some kid ran into me causing me to fall on my ankle. I pushed past everyone trying to blink away the tears. When I got to my locker I quickly opened it and pulled out my books that I needed and my skateboard.
Charlie wouldn't pay for a new car so he bought me a skateboard to travel on. It was great because I loved to skateboard but it's not easy to skateboard with a bad ankle. In fact that's probably one of the don'ts that the doctors tell you when you break your ankle.
I fought back the tears as I skateboarded home. When I walked in the door I was glad that Charlie wasn't there. I walked into the kitchen and pulled out a pop tart. I was starving. I sat down at the kitchen table and crossed my legs so I could look at my ankle. As I pulled my sock off and lifted my jeans, I came to the conclusion that it was probably broken.
It was swollen and it hurt like crap. Hopefully Charlie would let me go to the doctor and let me get a cast. Who are you kidding; he would never let you do that. I said to myself. I finished my pop tart and walked, well I technically hopped, upstairs and into my bedroom.
It really hadn't changed since that night. I still only had the mattress, and now a bigger and thicker blanket. The walls were plain white and there was no furniture except a lone lamp. My clothes were aligned against the wall. I only had 5 shirts that still fit and 2 pairs of jeans. No one ever really saw my shirts though I always wore my big hoodie, to make sure no one saw my cuts and bruises. Against the wall there was also a book or two.
I walked over to my closet were all my medical stuff was hidden, and pulled out the wrap I used when I hurt my wrist, arm, knee, whatever.
I carefully wrapped it around my ankle, trying not to put too much pressure on it.
When it was wrapped securely I hopped down the steps and back into the kitchen and started Charlie's dinner.
Charlie usually came home around 6:30. He worked as a police officer, which was kind of ironic seeing as he is supposed to protect people, and he hurts the one person he helped create.
At 7, Charlie still wasn't home, which worried me. Not because he could be hurt but because if he was out drinking I was going to get it double what he usually does to me. At 8 I put his food in the oven to keep it warm then walked upstairs to work on my homework. Even though I wasn't made to be good in school by Charlie, I still did, with hopes that when I graduate and go to college. I was a straight A student.
I feel asleep somewhere around 11:30, and Charlie still wasn't there. It felt weird to go to bed and not be abused for hours before.
Somewhere around midnight, I was woken up by frantic knocking on the front door.
It took me a while to hop down the steps half asleep but I managed it.
When I got to the living room I noticed flashing light in front of the house. Is that a cop car? I wandered.
When I opened the door sure enough there was Officer Morgan.
"Bella, I'm so sorry but earlier this evening Charlie was hit by a drunk driver. He died on impact." The officer looked completely upset. He was Charlie's partner.
I didn't have to be beaten everyday. I could live my life. He finally got what he deserved. All these thoughts swarmed into my head and I think I fainted. Everything went black and I was standing on a plain of darkness.
authors note; this story is somewhat longer then hardships in life. atleast the chapters are. :) umm tell me how you like it so far. ill either put the next chapter up today or tommorrow depending on reveiws. ahah no not tht mean i hate when authors say tht. it will probably be u within a couple hours though. :) reveiw please pelase please please please please. they seriously make me happy.