This story is rated M.
The original characters and plot of Twilight are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended with this story. After the story is completed, all Twilight references and character names will be changed and copyrighted. Copyright 2010 by Jenndur. This story may not be duplicated, copied, printed or otherwise reproduced in anyway, nor can it be reposted on any other website without the expressed written authorization of the author.
This story contains adult subject matter, strong language, controversial topics, drug and underage alcohol use, mentions of rape, consensual sexual content, and self-injury. You have been warned.
Summary: Isabella is a troubled teen with self-destructive behaviors sent to live with her father in Forks, WA. Will Edward be the one to help her, save her from this downward spiral? Or will his actions push her closer to the edge? AH/OOC, B/E.
Chapter 1: Glimpse Into Hell
Life — the way it really is — is a battle not between bad and good but between bad and worse.
"Let's go, Isabella."
Headlights flashed over us from a car passing by as a firm hand gripped my upper arm, pulling me from the car. I didn't struggle as I was led to the front door of my house – I knew it would only cause more trouble if I did. The grip stayed firmly on my arm as we stood beneath the porch light, waiting for my mother to answer the door. After a few seconds, the door flew open and I stared at my mother and her new douche bag husband.
"Sorry about the early hour, but I found her out on the street. I decided to bring her here instead of the station," Officer O'Reilly said.
"Thanks, O'Reilly," replied Phil, grabbing my arm from O'Reilly's grasp and pulling me inside the house. "This won't happen again."
"Let's hope it doesn't," he said before he turned to leave.
Once the door was shut, I jerked my arm free and brushed past my mother and Phil. I knew as I had gotten halfway up the stairs, it would be too much to hope that I could get by unscathed.
"Kitchen. Now, Isabella," my mother said forcefully.
Fuck my life, I thought. I sighed out of irritation and turned, stomping back down the stairs.
My mother didn't wait, but Phil stood at the foot of the stairs, preventing me from going any farther. I glared at him, wanting to be as far away from him as possible.
"Excuse me," I muttered, taking another step forward, just to the left of him.
He didn't move, his eyes narrowing as he silently antagonized me.
"I said 'excuse me.' So move," I snapped, shoving myself against the wall in an effort to keep my distance.
I walked into the brightly lit kitchen and threw myself into a chair on the opposite side of where Renee, my mother, sat. I drummed my fingers loudly in annoyance as Phil took his place, standing behind Renee with a hand on her shoulder. Renee took a deep breath before she began.
"It's almost six in the morning, Isabella. What the hell were you doing out at this time?"
"Calm down, Renee. Jeez, I'm home now," I sighed, rolling my eyes.
"Answer the question."
"I was just hanging out with a few friends and I was on my way home when Officer O'Reilly found me."
Phil scoffed loudly, shaking his head, mumbling to Renee something I couldn't hear.
"You were out with him again, weren't you?"
"What the fuck does it matter?"
"What does it matter?" She shrilled, repeating me. "He's fifteen years older than you. You're only seventeen! He's too old to be spending his time with a teenager. It's disgusting."
"Cut the crap, Renee. You can stop pretending like you actually care." I threw myself back in my chair, folding my arms tightly across my chest.
"I'm your mother and I do care, which is why I'm going to stop you from seeing him anymore."
"Ha! I'd like to see you try." I leaned toward her, breathing in her face.
"Are you… are you drunk?"
"Get over it, Renee." I rolled my eyes. "You're always lecturing me. So what if I drink a little, party a little, and let my hair down every now and then?"
"That's the thing, Isabella. You're always coming home drunk or drugged out from you 'little' parties. That or we're always having to bail you out of jail, like tonight–"
"Bail? Yeah, right. It's not like I was arrested. Besides, that only happened once."
"You're lucky that it was O'Reilly who found you," my mom said. "As I was saying, I've had enough of the lying and stealing. I'm sick of it. I just don't know what to do anymore."
"Fine," I sighed. "I'll try to cut back on the partying and drinking."
"No, Isabella. I'm sick of it. Phil and I… we're not going to deal with this anymore."
I narrowed my eyes at Phil. He hadn't left his spot behind Renee, nor did her remove his hand from her shoulder. This was all his fault. I just knew it. But it confused me as to why he was trying to pit my mother against me. I had actually been doing okay for a while, not getting into as much trouble as I usually did.
"This?" I hissed, turning my gaze back to my mother.
"We've been putting up with this for so long, Isabella. Nothing Phil or I do is working. Hopefully your father will have a better chance of–"
"Fuck that shit, Renee. I'm not going to live with Charlie. You can't make me."
"You really don't have a choice. I've already discussed with your father about you coming to live with him."
"And when did this happen?" I sneered.
"The last time you fucked up," Phil butted in.
"Mind your own damn business."
"Now, Bella. That's no way to talk to your father." He smirked.
"You are not my father. You're just some douche bag that married my stupid, immature mother," I spat at him.
Suddenly, Phil was in my face and I was looking into his livid eyes.
"You should show your mother and I the respect we deserve."
"Respect is earned, not demanded," I replied, snottily.
Phil's fist slammed down on the table surprising me. I flinched and leaned away as Renee pulled on his arm.
"That's enough, Phil. Why don't you go make some coffee or something?"
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever." And with that he was out of my face and across the room, his back to me.
"If you don't get on that plane, I'm sure Charlie will come over here and make you go. Though he won't be too happy about it."
"You've got to be kidding me. You honestly think I'm going to live in the middle of nowhere?"
Renee looked down at her hands and didn't say anything. It was then that I realized there was no hope.
"Please," I tried. "Mom, please don't send me there. I'll do anything to stay. Really. I'll stop drinking and partying. I'll even stop seeing James."
"I'll die if you send me there."
"Oh, enough with the dramatics, Isabella," Renee snapped.
Dramatics, I thought to myself. Narrowing my eyes, I shoved the chair roughly away from the table and leapt up. I'll give you dramatics.
Once I was on the second floor, I screamed over the railing, "Fuck you! I fucking hate you!"
I slammed my door as hard as I could and turned to look at the room I would only be staying in for a little while longer. I was going to destroy it. I threw my clothes around, knocked things off my desk and dresser, and somehow managed to upturn my mattress and have it hanging halfway out of my closet. I was screaming and crying. I grabbed my lamp and threw it against the mirror. I immediately ceased my fit when I spotted myself in the broken mirror. I moved forward, reaching my hand up to touch my broken tearstained face.
I was in a trance as I stared at the mess I was, so much that I didn't notice my door slowly opening. I don't know how long it had been since I left the kitchen, but it couldn't have been too long. Finally, I looked away from my own reflection to where my door was being blocked by Phil. He turned to face me as I began backing myself into a corner.
There was an evilness to his tone and a fiery rage in his eyes I knew well, even in the short time that I'd known him. He was just like the others.
"What the fuck do you want, Phil?" I asked, trying to sound brave as I backed up some more, but felt the wall collide with my back. "Where's my mother?"
Instead of answering my questions, he looked around, slowly making his way closer to me. I crossed my arms across my chest and tried to figure out a way out of this situation, but could see none. I was trapped.
"My, what a spitfire you are," he commented, so close to me now that I closed my eyes, wishing I was anywhere but here. Well, soon I would be in Forks, Washington. 1,584 miles away from Phoenix, and Renee and Phil.
"I can't believe one little girl made this big of a mess," he continued, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. My stomach turned.
Soon I felt unwanted hands on my face, trailing down my neck to my collarbone, lips following immediately. There was really no use trying to put up a fight – I'd easily be overpowered by this man… this devil.
He grabbed me roughly around the waist, going toward the button on my jeans when I tried to get away. I spit in his face, causing him to freeze for a moment. Before I knew what was happening, the left side of my face was on fire and then I had hands envelop my neck, fingers digging in to cut off my air supply. My head banged roughly against the wall and my own hands searched for a way to release the grip on my neck.
"Listen up, bitch. That little move you just pulled was very idiotic of you, but lucky for you, I'm feeling lenient. Do it again and you won't be so lucky," Phil whispered, slamming my head against the wall once more.
As I was about to rasp out 'go to hell,' we both paused, hearing the shower turn off in my mother's bathroom down the hall. His fingers loosened around my neck but his hands didn't leave my skin immediately.
"Get this mess cleaned up. It's a shame you won't be around much longer. I'm definitely going to miss this ass." His hands dropped down to my ass and gripped tightly, pulling my body closer, grinding on me.
Dipping his mouth next to my ear, he breathed, "Say one word of this to anyone, Bella, and I will end you and whoever you tell."
He turned to leave my room, only pausing to tell me to clean myself up and apologize to my mother. Once he shut the door behind him, I fell to the floor shaking, choking back a scream.
Maybe living with Charlie in Forks would be just the thing I needed. I could start over…
It'd been a week since it was decided I would be moving to Forks to live with Charlie. It should've been enough time for Charlie to prepare himself for my homecoming. Only seven days and he'd already forgotten to pick me up from the airport in Seattle.
I hadn't seen Charlie in over six years, nor have I spoken to him. I didn't know his address or his phone number. Sure I could've taken a cab, but that would've been expensive, and I wasn't sure I could even identify the house if I saw it. I also knew I could've called the Forks Police Department to remind him that he forgot me, but I was stubborn. Which is why I'd been sitting with my three bags at the airport for two hours and seventeen minutes.
I shivered slightly when I looked through the windows at the snow-covered ground. I found it ridiculous that anyone would want to live where it snows and is constantly wet. Unfortunately, I didn't have much of a choice.
I had a jacket, a sweatshirt and a few long sleeve shirts, but I didn't think that'd be warm enough so I'd have to settle with borrowing some of Charlie's clothes until I could go shopping for proper clothing.
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, looking at the time again. Two hours and twenty-seven minutes. My patience was finally running out and I dialed four-one-one to get the Forks police station, when I felt someone standing over me. I looked up and found my father, clad in his uniform.
I huffed loudly, hitting the end call button and slipped the phone back into my pocket. I stood, stretching and Charlie stood awkwardly in front of me now.
"Hey Bells. Sorry I'm late. I got caught–"
"Stop," I said, raising my palm toward him. "Save your excuses, Charlie. I don't want to hear them. I just want to leave."
I turned, leaving him to follow me, though I had no idea where I was supposed to be going. A minute later, I felt something warm and slightly heavy fall upon my shoulders – Charlie's jacket.
"The car's this way." He jerked his head to the left.
It took almost four hours to get to Forks from Seattle and there was an awkward tension in the car. I was giving Charlie the silent treatment for not picking me up at a decent time. He attempted to start a conversation a few times, but after experiencing my stubborn attitude, he gave up. It was dark when we pulled up to a small, two story house. As I reached for the handle, Charlie's voice stopped me.
"So, there's really not much food in the house. I'm just going to order a pizza tonight. Maybe we could go to the grocery store tomorrow?"
"Sure… whatever." Again as I was about to get out of the car, his voice rang out.
"I just want to make a few points clear before we go inside." He paused for a few seconds, and I looked at him. "There are going to be a few rules to living here."
He cleared his throat.
"And they are… Charlie?" I gave in, getting more annoyed.
"First off, to you I'm Dad – not Charlie. So the rules are pretty basic. No ditching, homework must be done before you go out, no inappropriate clothing, no foul language, and no drinking or drugs. Oh and your curfew will be ten p.m. on school nights and midnight on Fridays and Saturdays. Got that?"
"Sure thing, Charlie. I mean Dad. Can we go inside now? I'm tired."
"Okay. Let's go."
I didn't respond as I climbed out of the car. I waited at the front door for Charlie to unlock it before trudging up the stairs and flinging myself on the floor.
What kind of hell did Renee send me to? Sure, I could tell it'd be better than living with Renee and Phil. Why didn't Charlie just slap some cuffs on me now? I was sure I'd fuck something up eventually…