And She Was Pretty

It took me a lot of researching, and soul searching, and any other kind of searching to bring you something that will speak to your angsty soul...

Ninn when I started this I began to read all of your stories and wrack my brain in an attempt to write the most angsty, sad, and touching story I could for you. During that time I have come to find you as one of my best friends. You have one of the biggest hearts and one of the kindest souls. I love you always and forever!

BTW none of the men in this fic are any of the cullens or anything so don't freak out on me alright?

Thanks to everyone who proofread for me so I can hopefully make an impact on all who read. Thanks to Mop for beta-ing, she even beta'd the end A/N lol.

Disclaimer to anybody and everybody who reads this story: Stephenie Meyer owns most. I do not condone actions that may take place in this story, but everything happens for a reason.

Don't let 'em say you aint beautiful.



"Shhh," he whispered into my ear, as he placed his finger in my mouth.

"Look at her, she's scared of us, like we'd actually hurt her."

My eyes popped open and all that was audible was the sound of my heavy breathing and the ticking of the clock beside my bed.

I lay completely still as my eyes began to water. When would the pain go away? When would this nightmare end?

Every muscle in my body felt tense, and I felt the memories threatening to resurface. I tried to repress my thoughts as jumbled images flashed through my mind.

Pink satin. Smiles. Tears.

It was all too much as I felt my throat constrict in panic.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I told myself. Focusing only on the sound of my breathing.

My shaking turned into slight tremors as I looked over at the clock. 3am. It was the latest I had slept in nearly a year.

I would count that as a positive on today's list.

Sitting up, I grabbed my journal, but something inside of me stopped me from flipping over the worn cover. I didn't feel like writing today. Everyday I wrote the same thing. Each time I would feel cold, never was I filled with the relief the journal was intended to give me. What was the point of putting myself through the memories day after day?

Getting up, I trudged to the shower.

Everything was dark around me, just how my life felt; dark. I walked into the bathroom and flipped the light on. The brightness blinded me momentarily as I fumbled around until my toe hit the bathtub with a thud. I quickly undressed, suddenly self conscious as though someone else were watching me. The water was hot, and I watched as the steam lifted from my skin. The scalding water hit my face as flashback after flashback played in my mind.

"Come over here sweetheart," the nice voice had beckoned, "get out of the rain."

Of course it made sense to want to get out of the rain, but something about the man frightened me.

I was vaguely aware that my head was pressed against the cool tile as I felt my own warm tears spilling from my eyes.

The rain was cool, and it was covering my face. Suddenly the temperature shifted and the droplets felt warmer. When I realized, I was the one who was making it rain tonight.

The water from the shower head was suddenly ice cold against my skin, causing me to jump in surprise. I turned the shower off. Gasping for breath from the shock I quickly dried off before throwing my clothes on.

I wore sweatpants and my shirt was nearly three times too big for me. Always on top of my shirt I threw a sweatshirt, despite the temperature. My hair was plain. At one time it had been a beautiful blonde color, and often times I would curl the ends just a bit, but I never did anything fancy with it, at least not anymore.

The morning dragged on slowly as I counted down each second to school. I stared out the window as I sat on the plush couch by the back window. The rain fell in torrents across the back porch. The ground was eroding from the constant moisture and I shuddered as a chill passed through the room. That was the benefit of living in a place filled with near constant rain. It was my own personal hell.

Finally I heard my parents stirring, and I listened as my mom went into my room to try to wake me. She sighed loudly, and I felt like a huge disappointment to her, yet again.

I'm a 16 year old girl. I was supposed to bring joy and light into my parents hearts, not pain and sorrow. It wasn't fair. I couldn't understand how God could let this happen to me, to my family. What had I done to deserve all of this?

"Couldn't sleep?" my mom asked as her hand rested lightly on my shoulder.

I shook my head, pulling away from her touch, as she sighed again before walking away. I wasn't prone to talking much these days. Often it would just result in my eminent crying or an emotional breakdown and I could tell my parents patience waned with every one.

School came faster than usual today. I cringed at the thought of all the human contact that was made around me daily, but it was better than being stuck at home.

"Hood up, head down," I chanted silently as I made my way through the crowded hallways.

Today was no different than any other as I tried to walk through the hallways without listening to the girls murmuring behind my back. It had been the worst after the incident had first happened, but at least now everything was said behind my back at least.


They had sneered openly in my face.


Their words cut me like knives. Then again, I had deserved it. They all told me it was my own fault. At least now everything they said was in whispers.

I moved quickly from class to class, but suddenly felt trapped. Students raced past me as I clung to the wall for dear life, begging none of them to touch me. Suddenly I felt myself falling to the ground as my books splayed out underneath anxious feet.

"She thinks we'd actually hurt her," the man said as he stuck his finger in my mouth. I noticed it tasted of nicotine and dirt, as I tried to hold back from gagging.

His friends behind him snickered as they passed a flask amongst one another.

"Don't you look so pretty?" he slurred, his breath smelled sour and like liquor.

His fingers toyed with the pink satin of the dress I had worn to the dance. My mom told me I looked like a Barbie doll, but that night I felt prettier than one. My blonde hair had been twisted into knots that made me look like a fairytale princess. I felt like Cinderella going to the ball as I slipped on my beautiful white shoes that accentuated my dress perfectly.

"White stains easily, you know?" my mother had warned me dutifully.

It didn't matter to me though, they were the perfect fit and I wouldn't feel complete without them. Tonight I didn't feel any differently as I stared at myself in the full length mirror. My cheeks were flushed a slight pink, and my lips were glossed over. My mom had helped me with the light pink eyeshadow that made my blue eyes pop. I looked like an entirely different person than usual. My gown was full length, and wasn't too revealing. I wasn't one for showing much skin. I twirled, causing my dress to billow out as I smiled widely.

The dance was just as I had expected it to be. I had come with friends, as I was only 15 and wasn't allowed to have a boyfriend yet. It didn't matter though, I realized I didn't need a boy to have fun as we laughed and danced the night away. Everything was going perfect at my first school dance.

Time flew by and before I knew it, it was time for us to go home. It was starting to drizzle lightly, but I didn't mind it. It was a refreshing feeling after the heat of the gym. I waved to my friend as I told her I just wanted to walk home. It wasn't a long walk to my house, maybe a mile or two. I lifted my face up towards the heavens as I thanked God for the perfect time.

I could feel the loose hair that framed my face begin to curl slightly from the moisture. I felt so free and light, I began to skip holding my shoes in one hand, as I relished in the cool water splashing about at my feet. The hem of my dress would be dirty, nothing would get me down tonight.

"Come over here, sweetheart," the nice voice had beckoned, "get out of the rain."

Of course it made sense to want to get out of the rain, but something about the man frightened me.

"No, thank you," I answered politely continuing in the direction I had been headed.

Suddenly I felt hands on me as I was being pulled in another direction. I looked over to see the man, yanking me. There seemed to be eminent danger, and I tried in vain to pull my arm from his grasp.

"Ow, you're hurting me," I said as he tugged harder.

"Come on, little girl," he demanded, and I suddenly felt as though I were in danger.

My bare feet scraped against the pavement. I tried in vein to dig my toes into the ground, willing myself to stop. Instead I could feel the warmth of the blood as my toenails wore away and the skin began to tear away from the tips of my toes. My assailant dragged me further as I felt shards of glass embed themselves into my toes, causing me to cry out in pain.

"No, please stop! STOP!" I yelled, looking around frantically for anyone to help.

Nobody seemed to notice my frantic pleas as the man suddenly stopped in front of a group of about 6 guys. My body suddenly felt tense and I felt aware of just how exposed I was. Although my dress was covering enough, I knew what these men saw. It was the same thing I saw earlier, it was the same thing my mom had commented on. A Barbie doll, and they wanted to play.

"I'm talking to you!" a voice suddenly cut in as a hand slapped me roughly.

I tried to hold back the tears as I once again tried to pull away. My cheek hurt from where his hand had connected with my face, and I yanked harder this time, determined to get away.

"I don't think so." He growled, slapping me again. This time I felt my lip crack as blood trickled down my chin

"Want a drink?" he offered, holding the flask to my lips.

I tried to turn my head away but was suddenly met by other hands as one held my nose and the other forced my mouth open. The liquid was hot and burned as it made its way down my throat, causing me to cough.

"Don't worry, it'll just make things easier," he said, his glossy eyes roaming up and down my body.

"Please, you don't have to do this," I begged as the boys laughed, "I swear, I won't tell anyone."

"When we're done with you, you won't be able to tell anyone anyway," he said, grabbing my throat roughly and pulling me close to his face, while he ran his tongue languidly over my jawbone.

Suddenly, I heard other voices coming towards us. Taking a risk, I screamed as loud as I could. A large hand covered my mouth, and I knew I had to fight back with everything I had. I bit the mans hand, causing him to pull away in pain. I felt proud of myself for a moment before a his fist collided with my jaw. Spots played before my eyes as I stood there dazed. The others hands were holding both of my hands so tightly I knew they would bruise as I tried another weak attempt at freeing myself.

"Stupid little bitch, you're gonna pay for that," one said as he began to unbutton his pants.

My throat constricted as I felt his hands clumsily slip underneath my dress.

"No, please," I begged again, as the rain began to fall harder around us.

"Shut the fuck up," the man demanded as he punched me in the gut before ripping my panties away in what seemed like an instant.

Trying once again to free myself my hands suddenly flew to the mans face. I dug my nails in deep, feeling his skin gathering under my nails. Deep gashes showing bright red suddenly appeared. He lifted one hand to his face just as the first drop of blood drizzled down through his stubble.

"Bitch you're gonna pay for that," he said, his mouth curling into a cruel smile.

It seemed to take an eternity as he thrust himself inside of me. He was rough, and I was dry. The friction causing a burning sensation, and I wouldn't have been surprised if I were bleeding. I felt lightheaded as I tried to will my body to breathe.

Where was God?

Where was anybody? Why wouldn't anyone save me? I thought as I felt one after another force himself upon me. Each one was rough in his own way as he shoved himself crudely inside my body. I was vaguely aware of my cries and pleas, my mind constricted from the lack of breath after my brutal beating.

"Please don't. NO. NO," I was shouting, but each 'No' seemed to only spur them on more.

I tried wriggling my body in an attempt to get away, my head flailed wildly from side to side as I watched as bystander after bystander walked passed me by.Some of them merely glanced in our direction, while others stopped. I saw a few take out their cell phones. Someone had to be calling the police didn't they? Why weren't the police coming yet? I thought, as bystander after bystander

The witnesses meandered on their way as if they had seen nothing. I saw a group of girls walk by that knew me. They had never liked me, and laughed now as they pointed at me and called out to their friends to come watch.

I felt nauseous. My chest hurt from the man that had to be nearly 200lbs as he pressed his sweaty body to mine, grunting in an animalistic fashion. My face was bleeding, and I could hardly see from one eye. The rain fell on my face.

They were tears from heaven trying to wash away the filth that covered my soul.

The muddy ground had probably stained my beautiful pink dress. My shoes had been thrown from my grasp, now scattered among the mud.It was all as unsalvageable as my innocence now was.

I would never be able to give my husband the gift of my chastity.

"Mommy, help me," I whispered, as the fat man climaxed inside of me his body weight pressing me further into the ground as he tried to regain his composure.

"You're mommy's not here little girl," he said quietly into my ear as he pinched my nipple hard between his fingers.

"But we'll be your daddies."

The tone in his voice made my stomach churn. My head started to spin. Oxygen suddenly coursed throughout my body as the fat man climbed off of me.

"Somebody help me!" I attempted to screamed as person after person went by. 20 people total walked past me. I even looked into a few of their eyes. Nobody stopped for me. Nobody stopped to help me.

Each time I dared to yell out I was met by another punch. One man was wearing brass knuckles and laughed as he used me as his human punching bag. He climaxed the fastest, getting off on the pain he was inflicting me.

"That's right," he had yelled, "you're so tight around me when I do this." He told me as he punched me again and again in the stomach, causing my body to try to naturally recoil in fear and defense.

There was no saving me now.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," a voice said as a boy leaned down, trying to gather my books up.

He smelled sweet, like chocolate and aftershave as he moved around making sure he had gotten all my books.

I sat there in terror, trying to compose myself after the worst flashback I had experienced in a while.

"Hey, are you alright?" he asked as he placed his hand on my shoulder, nudging me gently to get my attention.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" I screamed as loud as I could as I tried to scoot backwards away from the boy, bumping into a trashcan. It hit the ground with a loud metallic thud as I gained my footing and took off down the hall.

"I'm sorry," he stammered out as he tried to explain himself while I ran down the hall, leaving my books behind me with the confused boy.

The bathroom smelled like urine and bleach as I pushed open every stall door impatiently. Each door hit the stall walls with a loud bang as I made sure nobody was there with me. Leaning my head against the graffitied tile, I felt the tears begin to fall freely from my eyes. I tried to remember the techniques my therapist had given me to cope in a situation like this, to no avail. Damn therapists.

I splashed water across my face as I tried to erase the memory. The door began to open and I hurried into a stall, locking it and pulling my legs up on the toilet seat as I tried to even my breathing.

"Like, what the hell is wrong with her?" said a voice that I recognized only as Jessica Stanley.

"I know, right," her accomplice Lauren said beside her.

"It's like, so you were raped. So what? What do you think, we owe you something now? Like you're better than us? I mean, she's just a crazy person now. I swear she just has those outbursts for attention."

"And now she's being a total bitch to the new guy in school. I mean, he's a total hottie, she didn't have to go all psycho on him," Lauren added in.

I could imagine them standing in front of the mirror, trying to make their reflections look pretty despite the rotted souls that lay inside their bodies. They were fake in every aspect, and yet, so many people seemed to love them.

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to hold back the gasp that was suddenly threatening to escape. I didn't want them to know I was in here listening to them. My thoughts drifted back to that night as the rest of their conversation was lost to me.

Each boy passed me around. I was their toy, and each one wanted their chance at the human Barbie. They pulled my hair, a few of them commenting on how soft and silky it was between their fingers. Sometimes they goaded me to try to say something, getting off on the struggle. Others seemed to just want to get it over with quickly. Each one ended the same, with a grunt and the sickly sweet sound of their pants being zipped back up.

There were no tears left in me now. My chest felt hollow. My vision was blurry. It didn't matter, I wished all of my senses would just stop. I wish I would just die right there.

Time seemed to be going in slow motion. My head was turned towardthe road as the next boy to 'ride me' held my throat to the dirt. The rocks dug into my cold wet skin, but I relished in the pain. I watched as puddles of oil leaked from passing cars turned into beautiful rainbows. My mothers angelic voice resounded in my head as I watched the rainbows grow.

Somewhere over the rainbow

Bluebirds fly

Birds fly over the rainbow

Why than, oh why

Can't I?

Somewhere my voice broke through the haze, betraying my every thought.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I whispered through cracked lips.

"Why not?"

They laughed as the last of my assailants finally climbed off of me to zip up his pants.

"Come on guys, you're gonna make her feel bad," he said before leaning over me to tuck a soaked strand of hair behind my ear. His touch burned my skin making me feel sick to my stomach.

"And you were pretty."

He said it as though it would make me feel better. That these men had thought me pretty. I didn't feel pretty. I felt defiled. Ruined. I was now Raggedy Ann, when only a short time ago I had been the princess at the ball.

The caramel color of my last captors eyes would be forever burned in my memory.

'And you were pretty.'

His words played over and over in my head. I wanted to pull every silky hair from my head. I was almost glad they had beat me so badly, maybe they should've beat me more. Then I would no longer be pretty. Maybe nobody would want to touch me again.

Long after they had left, all I could see were those taunting eyes as the events of the last few hours played over and over in my mind. The smell of the alcohol seemed to waft around me, almost as though I had bathed in it.

I don't know how long I lay there, but I was vaguely aware now that I could hear voices. They sounded as though they were coming down a hallway. Echoing and bouncing off the inside of my mind. Nothing was clear, and I didn't try to make out anything that was being said.

Suddenly I felt ashamed that I would be found like this. I didn't want anyone to see me bloody and beaten in my tattered dreams. I was dirty and exposed.

My body was ruined. No man would ever want me. My parents had raised me to be a good girl, but somewhere they must've gone wrong. For now was I not only dirtied by one man, but by six.

I turned my head away from the road as the hollow voices grew closer. My moms image played before my eyes.

"Just promise me one thing Rosie," she had asked as she brushed my hair before bed.

"What's that?" I asked as I drew a beautiful rose, full of life and beauty on the sketch pad resting in my lap.

"Just try to hold onto your innocence as long as you can."

"Okay," I agreed, absent minded, as I hummed my moms favorite hymn to her.

Flashing lights flashed across my face as my eyes fixed on a wilted pink flower, that held only half of it's petals.

It was just as dead as I felt.

"I'm sorry mommy," I whispered into the darkness as I closed my eyes, willing the shadows to engulf me.

Please help stop all violence and abuse toward women. Take a stand, you have a voice.


This girl in no way deserved the way she was treated. Nor did she deserve some of the backlash from others saying that "she deserved this" or "she must've been slutty". I don't care if you have slept with the entire football team, or are saving yourself for marriage. No means no in any situation. If you have been a victim of a crime like this PLEASE tell somebody. For yourself and for others. It is time to stop being afraid to speak out and to start using your voice. Don't become another statistic, be a voice.