This story is about mostly about a bad childhood and then using sex to forget the bad things in your life. Then later in the story how that won't work.

So let me know what you think of this, because I think I could make this a good story, but I'm gonna need readers.

About my writing: I try to make as less as grammar and other mistakes as I can. English isn't my first language, I speak manly Dutch. But I don't like grammar mistakes myself, since I'm a perfectionist. If you wonder how my writing really is, read a chapter from my other story Good at it and you'll see for yourself if you either like my writing or not.


I sat on the swing and was crying uncontrollably. He hadn't listened. He had just grabbed me and didn't listen. They are supposed to listen. They don't get to make that choice. I make them. Just because there are a lot of boys, according to others, doesn't mean I still don't make the choices.

'Bella?' I heard Edward's voice from behind me. 'What are you doing here?'

I wanted to tell him to piss off, like I did usually. To just leave me alone, like he usually did.

Instead, I sobbed harder.

'What happened?' he asked. I shook my head and didn't look up at him.

I remembered again everything he did to me. I saw the whole thing in detail again.

Maybe I deserved it.

I flinched at the touch of Edward's fingers on my chest and started to panic. I wasn't able to fight him off of me. I had done all the fighting I could already. With him. After a minute I realised that he had closed the buttons of my blouse completely. I had only managed to close a few while I was running away from him. I looked up.

'Everyone thinks I just do it with everyone, but that's not true,' I said, but not looking in his eyes. 'I do make choices. I don't do it with everyone.'

Why was I talking to him? To Edward. He had spoken his opinion about me very openly and publicly already.

'Come on, Bella. Let's go to the police.'

I stared at him, but he just lifted me up and helped me to get to the police. It wasn't a tall walk and when we were walking up the stairs, I stopped him.

'I can't do this,' I said.

'Bella, you have to. If he can rape once, he can do it again.' I looked up surprised when he had said the word rape. When I saw his face, however, I knew that he didn't believe me. He didn't believe that any form of sex with me could be rape. He thought I did everything willingly.

Everything with everyone.

And when he knocked on the door, I realised that he was not the only one. In this town, nobody would believe that I could get raped. I was the trashy slut. I did everything without complaint.



I don't want to report him. Who will believe me?

I turned and ran as fast as my legs could carry me to my place. Not home. But place. I didn't hear Edward call me, so he probably hadn't even noticed yet. I wiped away my tears and noticed in the dim light that my fingers were black. My make up was all over my face.

I quickly looked back to see also Edward looking back and he put his hand up, as if to stop me, but it only made me run faster until I lost him out of sight.