Hi hi! So, this is my new little project. It's a little...dark. Okay, in parts, it's a lot dark. It deals with some things that you might not be comfortable with. And that's totally cool. You don't have to like it. It's just something that showed up in a notebook when I sat down to write one day. Even I was a little disturbed at what I ended writing lol. But, if you want to, give it a chance. I'll probably not be getting too awfully graphic. Well, at least not in the flashbacks. You'll see.
Anyway, this is going to be dealing with things like kidnapping, rape, physical violence, and I don't know what all else yet. Oh, and yeah, it's all against a minor. That part will be told through flashbacks. The story is hopefully going to take place more in the present than the past, but the past is important to who people are in the present. Does that make sense?
Should I just shut up now? Let you get to reading? Yeah, that's probably a good idea.
Oh, one more thing. I don't own the characters.
"When I was thirteen years old, I was kidnapped.
"I had been at the mall with a couple friends - Angela and Jessica. We didn't have a lot of money, but we liked to go around, trying on fun clothes. My dad would drop us off and go to a sports bar to watch whatever game was on, then come get us a few hours later.
"Even now, eight years later, I remember it all too well. I remember Angela and Jess wanting to go into the lingerie store. I was too embarrassed, so I went to the food court to get us some drinks, and they were to meet me there."
I grabbed my change from the surly guy at the register and shoved it in my pocket. Carefully grabbing the three lemonades, I turned and scanned the crowded food court. Why is it so packed today? Finally, I spot an empty table over towards the back corner and I quickly, but carefully, make my way to it. I manage to slide into one of the chairs and set the cups down on the table, without spilling a drop. I can't help the smile the spreads across my face. I know, not such a big deal to most, but for me, it's practically a miracle.
Sitting there, sipping my lemonade, I scan the crowd for Ange and Jess. What's taking them so long?
Tap, tap, tap.
I glance up behind me, expecting one of my friends to be tapping on my shoulder, but am greeted instead by a fiery-haired woman. An extremely beautiful, immaculately dressed fiery-haired woman to be specific.
"Hi, sorry to bother you," she says in a soft, feminine voice, "but I'm waiting for a friend of mine and it seems as though all the other tables are pretty full. Would you mind if I sat with you for a minute?"
Brilliantly, all I could manage was a dumb "Uhh..." and a nod. She smiled anyway and sat down next to me, scanning the crowd for her friend.
"I'm Victoria, by the way," she says, offering me her hand.
I shake it awkwardly, feeling so dull next to her. "I'm Bella. Wow, you have really pretty hair." I wince a little, embarrassed.
She merely laughs it off, thanking me. "Are you here with someone, or are you just extremely thirsty?" she asks, good naturedly, gesturing to the three drinks in front of me.
I blush a little as I laugh. "No, not thirsty. Well, I am. But only one is mine. I'm waiting on a couple of my friends to get done shopping."
Then I heard a deep, low voice, calling to her. "Victoria, doll. There you are."
I look up to see a devilishly handsome man grinning at her, then at me. He sticks his hand out to me.
"Bella, this is my friend I was waiting for. James. James, this is Bella. She was nice enough to let me bug her for a few minutes."
Instead of just shaking my hand, he brings it to his face and kisses the back softly. Now, normally, I'd have blushed and been embarrassed, but something about him was . . . off. He smiled at me, but it didn't seem friendly.
I politely greet him, then announce that I need to go find my friends. I stand up to leave, and James puts his hand on my shoulder.
Still smiling, he leans in and whispers in my ear, "I think you need to come with me." I start to shake my head and he squeezes me. Hard. "If you scream, I will kill you. Then I'll find your little friends, and I'll kill them, too. You will come with me. Nod if you understand."
I slowly nod my head, swallowing hard. "Please don't-" I start to beg him not to hurt me, but he cuts me off by squeezing my shoulder harder. I grimace as tears fill my eyes.
"No talking. Just follow Victoria here. Do not think about running. And stop with the tears. I don't want you drawing attention to yourself." With that, he pushes me roughly toward the now standing Victoria. I stumble a little, but manage to catch myself before falling.
She places a hand on my arm and says gently, "Come along, dear." If I wasn't so terrified, I'd laugh. She sounded so motherly.
I AM terrified, though, so I just quickly wipe my eyes and numbly allow her to lead me. I can feel James behind me, waiting for my to try and run. I'm not stupid, though. I could hear how real his threat had been.
No one speaks as they lead me to the parking garage. My heart is pounding and I'm struggling to not start crying. I don't want to make James mad.
This isn't good. This is so not good. I've only got a little money. If they're going to rob me, they'll be mad that it's not that much. And if they're not going to rob me, well . . . I don't even want to think about what they're going to do then.
Victoria stops beside a black SUV and unlocks the doors. Climbing in the driver's seat, she leaves me standing there with James. Does he want me to get in?
As if hearing my thoughts, James opens the back passenger door and gestures for me to get in.
"Why don't we stop there for now?"
I nod, clearing my throat of the lump that has been forming. "There's still a lot to tell about it."
He nods. "I understand, but I don't want to push you to talk about it too much at a time. I don't want to force all of those memories to the surface just yet."
I laugh, bitterly. "As if they aren't already there." I grimace. "Sorry."
"It's okay. I know you're angry about what happened. That's why you're here. I'm going to do what I can to help you get over your anger, the pain you're holding on to. I'm here to help you in any way that I can."
I nod again. "Thank you. This . . . this is what I need. I don't want to be so angry anymore. It's too hard, too draining."
"Well then, Bella. That's the first step. Wanting to let it go." He scribbles a note in his notebook, and then smiles back at me. "We're out of time for today. I'll see you again on Friday?"
I nod, standing up and stepping over to his desk. "Absolutely. Thank you Dr. Whitlock."
"Until then, take care, Bella."
I offer him a tight smile before leaving his office, heading home to my tiny apartment to lock myself away from the world for another night.
Well, Isabella Swan was finally opening up about what brought her to me in the first place. I've been seeing her twice a week for over two months now. In all those sessions, we'd discussed everything else in her life that seemed to bother her - her job, her parents, her noisy neighbors, her depression, her insomnia. It took her half of our session today to finally start talking about this. We're finally making a breakthrough.
To say I was shocked would be an understatement. I mean, to be kidnapped, regardless, has to be traumatizing, but at thirteen? Her life was probably already just getting complicated by her hormones, her changing body, and then that happened. Poor thing. I hope I can help her.
I have to admit, I've never dealt with anything quite like this before. I'm going to have to tread lightly here, test the waters, so to speak. I don't want to push her too far, but I need to get everything out there. And to be quite honest, I'm terribly intrigued.
Who the hell is knocking on my door? I swear to God, is it so much to ask to just be left the fuck alone?
I reluctantly climb off my sofa, dropping my book onto the coffee table, and make my way to the door. I peek through the peephole.
I sigh and begin unlocking my door. Chain lock. Dead bolt. Slide lock. Knob lock. I open the door slowly, eyeing him.
He smiles at me. Ever so polite. It almost makes me feel bad for being such a bitch all the time. He holds up a brown paper bag.
"I brought you some dinner. You haven't eaten yet, have you?" he asks, hopeful.
I force a small smile and sigh, stepping aside and gesturing him in. He quickly scurries into my apartment.
I watch him go about my kitchen, pulling plates down, grabbing silverware from the drawer, grabbing two beers from the fridge. This has turned into somewhat of a tradition between us now. Ever since I moved into this place, he's always been there. Helping me out when I need it, trying his best to be a good friend to me. I admit, it made me suspicious at first. I assumed he was trying to get into my pants, or trying to use me in some other way.
But no, not Edward Cullen. 100% gentleman, he is. He's always made a point to never cross any boundaries with me, only taking what I offer him, and offering so much in return.
Don't get me wrong. I liked the guy. He was nice, he was cute, he seemed to genuinely care about me. But I didn't get it. I didn't understand why.
So I kept him at a distance, trying to figure him out. I remained cool and aloof with him. I never went to his apartment across the hall to see him. I never invited him over. I definitely didn't ever ask him to go do anything with me.
But every Tuesday and Friday, he showed up with dinner for us. Greasy burgers, spicy Chinese, a giant pizza. And he always asked if I'd eaten already. He always gave me the out, just in case I didn't want him there.
Truth is, I don't mind him being around. I honestly can't stand most people, but there's something about him. Maybe it's because he just seems so damn harmless. And he's never asking me what I'm thinking, how I'm feeling. I get enough of that from everyone else I know.
So, yeah. We had out twice-a-week dinner date here in my apartment. He brought the food, I provided the beer. We talked about nothing, we watched stupid TV and movies, we listened to music. It was really the only time of the week I felt somewhat at peace.
Smiling down at me, he drops to the floor beside the coffee table. Setting the plates down, he starts pulling boxes out of the bag.
"So what's on the menu tonight?" I ask him, opening the beers.
"I picked up some of that Mongolian BBQ that you like." He opens the boxes and I smile, despite myself.
"You're too good to me, Cullen," I say, shoveling some onto my plate.
He laughs lightly, offering me a little of everything else. "Eh, you've got me hooked on it, too. I can't believe I went so many years having never had it. I feel like I missed out."
"You did miss out." I quickly fill my mouth with the delicious food, savoring the flavors coating my tongue, chewing slowly. Swallowing, I glance over at him, to see him staring at me. "What?"
"I can't believe you can fit that much food in your mouth at one time," he says, laughing.
I laugh a little, too. "You know I've got a big mouth. Anyway, what tonight? Movie? TV?"
"Hmm," he says, popping some food in his mouth and chewing slowly. After he swallows, he says, "Let's see what's on TV. If it sucks, we can pick out a movie."
I flip on the TV and start to surf through the channels. We eat quietly, only speaking to say "next."
As I'm flipping, I come across a movie, just in time to see a young girl getting shoved into a car by an older guy. She's screaming and he's covering her body with his. My breath catches in my throat and I can feel an anxiety attack coming on. I quickly turn off the TV and stand up.
"I . . . you should go," I say, breathing heavily. I start closing the food boxes for him to take with him.
He stands up. "Wait. What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"
I shake my head furiously, still scrambling to get everything packed. I shove the boxes at him, pushing him towards the door. "Please. I just need you to go." I open the door and quickly push him out into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. I press my back against the door, trembling. Clenching my eyes shut, I sink to the floor, mumbling, "Sorry, Edward," to the now empty room.
I concentrate on taking deep breaths, relaxing my muscles, thinking about anything other than my time with James. With my knees drawn up to my chest, I pull in deep, haggard breaths until I start to calm down a little.
I knew this would happen as soon as I started to talk about this with Dr. Whitlock. That's why I've been putting it off for so long. For two years after I got away from him, the mere thought of James sent me into a panic. I was at my wit's end, and no one knew what to do to help me. I wouldn't see a psychiatrist.
But I'd learned to deal with it on my own. I learned how to bring myself back down to a manageable level. And it had been a few years since I'd had an attack. But seeing that, seeing that girl getting abducted, it just set me off.
I let out a frustrated shriek and throw my head back against the door. The pain quickly seeps over my scalp, but it does the trick. It brings me to the here and now. I'm fine now. James can never hurt me again. I made it through. I'm strong. I can take care of myself.
I sigh, feeling the tension in my chest dissipate. I'm good. I'm okay now.
There's a light tapping on the door.
"Bella, are you okay? I heard . . . well, I heard you scream and then a thud." Edward sounds scared. "Are you okay? Please answer me Bella. Do I need to call the hospital?"
I take another quick deep breath and pull myself from the floor. I open the door and Edward is standing there, holding the take out boxes, a worried, panicked expression on his face.
"Bella. Are you okay?"
I sigh and nod a little. "I'm sorry, Edward. I'm okay. Um . . . do you want to come back in and finish dinner?" I ask shakily. Surely he'll say no.
He smiles warily but nods, stepping back into my apartment. Sitting down at his spot on the floor again, he says, "So, why don't we listen to some music?"
He's not going to ask what happened, why I freaked. He was going to let it go, move on. And this is why I let Edward Cullen into my life.
So, there you have it. Is it worth continuing? I've got a lot more of the flashbacky part written. I'm just having to fill in the present parts. Review it and let me know what you think. If no one likes it, I might can it.