I can still feel his fingertips digging into my flesh.
I can still feel his grimy skin against mine, mixing his sweat with my tears.
I can still hear my muffled screams of protest, while his enormous hand clamped over my mouth.
But most of all, I can remember the disbelieving look on my Mother's face when I told her, her husband was a rapist.
She didn't believe me. No one believed me. Phil was a master manipulator, and convinced others I was just seeking an audience. That their recent engagement left me craving love and attention from my Mother. In truth, I would have given anything for that love and attention. I prayed for my Mother to hold me and tell me 'Everything is gonna be ok, Bella.' But I never achieved such satisfaction.
Instead, they shipped me off.
Punishment for baring my soul, when every ounce of me was stricken with fear over Phil's rage. Knowing very well I would be taught a lesson after my confession. He always made good on his word.
I was to spend the rest of my schooling with my Father, Charlie. I have never been very close with my Father, my Mother left him when I was just a child. I suppose you could say she had a hand at ripping my childhood away from me. Taking away any chance I had at closeness with my Father, and a male figure I could actually count on.
But no, I wasn't angry with my Mother. No matter how much it hurt that she chose the man who stole my innocence, over her own daughter. On the contrary, I was terrified for her. If he did this to me, I couldn't fathom on what he could bestow upon my ignorant Mother. That thought alone, would plague my dreams with nightmares.
I don't sleep much nowadays as it is. Not when the only thing I see is Phil's sadistic smile of satisfaction while towering over my crumpled form. I was weak because of him, I was scarred because of him, I was nothing because of him. Nothing but tainted innocence. Ruined by a man who was stronger. I was broken.
The silence during the car ride from Seattle to Forks would have be awkward for most, but I was thankful for it. Charlie was never one for words, but neither was I. I think I inherited that trait.
The lush greenery of the Forks landscape filled my view as we passed the city line. I pressed my forehead against the cold car door window and watched the white lines of the rode pass. I let the cool glass ease my raging nerves as we entered town. Reluctantly I rose my gaze to the eyes probing the Police car I sat in. Great, only in Forks for less than an hour, and already I'm gaining stares..Tomorrow should be utter Joy..
I quickly averted my gaze elsewhere, back to the ongoing lines of the pavement. Charlie broke the silence first.
"So, you excited for school tomorrow?" Excited? More like dreading it with every fiber of my being. But I just smiled in reply.
The Police cruiser came to a halt in the driveway. My new driveway..
Charlie smiled as he pulled my bags out of the trunk, eyeing a rusty old 1953 Chevy nestled comfortably beside the cruiser.
"Ya like her?"
"Yeah, looks great. But why do you need two cars Char-Dad?" I swung my bag over my shoulder and eyed the vehicle carefully. It's red paint was chipping away with age, and it seemed to be worn. Rust covering parts of its once perfect body. Kinda like me..
"Yeah, well thats the thing Bells. I don't. This baby is your welcome home present." He smiled triumphantly, then let it fall a little. "I know she is kinda old, but she runs like new. I bought it off my old friend Billy Black. His kid rebuilt the whole thing."
I gave him a wide smile and traced my fingers alongside its frame. My new car..
"Thanks dad, its perfect, I love it."
Charlie shrugged indifferently and carried my bags inside, pointing every so often to a room, telling me where to find the bathroom and what not. Once up the stairs he led me into a room with baby blue walls and a small bed in the center up against the wall. A brand new purple comforter covering it. My new room..
With a slight nod, he put my bags down and left me to my privacy. Thats the best thing about Charlie, he doesn't hover.
I sighed and sat on the bed, looking around at old drawings I made as a child. I felt a lump in my throat rise up at the thought of having to face Forks High School tomorrow. I'm not what you call a social butterfly, and ever since Phil..I am more than a little awkward with the male species.
I let myself plop down on my pillow and looked to the ceiling, tracing patterns in it with my eyes. This was all new to me, but I better make the best of it. My new life..
At least there was no Phil in this new life.