Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

Daddy's Little Girl

Summary:
Bella is Carlisle's daughter in the 1700s. One night, Carlisle doesn't come back from his hunt to take down the vampires. Bella is forced into a marriage with a man who becomes abusive. One night, a year after Carlisle bacame a vampire, her husband nearly kills her and she is left out on the streets, where she is changed. So, what will happen? Will she meet her dad? And will he have another family when she finally meets him?


Notes:
Not Stephenie, don't know her.


4. o n e

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 1144   Review this Chapter

Bella's point of view.

I was in bed, even though I couldn't sleep. Could you, knowing your father was out there, fighting against The Dark Creatures Of The Night? The things that sucked blood. Humans blood, to be more specific. I was scared for him, what if - what if he didn't come back? My father had thought I was just being silly, had laughed playfully when I voiced my concerns, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was going to happen tonight, something bad.

So I lay awake in my bed, straining my ears to listen, hoping each second I would hear my father's footsteps coming in to check on me before he too went to bed. But I didn't hear it. He had left several ago, and was taking much more time than usual, hours more than he'd said he would take.

I heard footsteps come in the directions of my room, but not my father's light, careful footsteps, a heavier set, but one I recognised never the less. Mr Cullen, the grandfather I loathed, who loathed me right back. I couldn't think of why he was in my room. Except for one reason. But that wasn't it. It couldn't be it.

"Bella," he said in that loath-fulled voice, the one he reserved just for me and my father, whom he didn't like because Carlisle had gone into medicine instead of priesthood, though my father still did participate in the hunts of The Dark Creatures Of The Night. He continued, "Much to my displeasure, you are now mine. Your father, my son, whatever you wish me to refer to him as, has sadly died," he didn't look sad at all at the thought of his only son dead, merely annoyed he now had to take care of me.

But I didn't think about that much. How was I to? My father, my only living realative was gone. Was it not enough that my mother had died giving birth to me. I knew not to miss what I had never had, but sometimes, my father seemed slightly unhappy and I'd always blamed myself. Though he called me silly when I voiced this, ruffling my hair playfully, I still felt as though I had taken something from him, something irreplacable. Love.

But didn't whoever was up there, think I'd had enough. I'd been raised to believe that everything happened for a reason, but how was that true, when someone as special, as amazing, as loving as my father was gone from the world. I would no longer fall asleep listening to the sound of his voice telling me a story, I would no longer wake from the gentle touch of him tickling my feet. I would never hear this voice again, or see him again.

My grandfather talked on, but I was immune to it, I was too shocked by the news, though I had expected it as soon as he walked in. Briefly I was aware of him saying I would married off as soon as someone made an offer, no matter whom it was. So I wouldn't be spending much more time here, I had already had numerous marriage proposals but my father had refused them all. He said he loved me too much, couldn't bare to let me go. I agreed with him, of course, he had known I would have to leave eventually, but he had believed in what I believed in, true love.

But I wasn't going to get that now.

As soon as my grandfather left, I broke down. Knives stabbed at my heart. My father was gone, I thought it over and over again, each time hoping it wouldn't be true, that it was just some sick joke, but Carlisle never came in.

I was alone.

Carlisle's point of view

Even as I lay in torture, as the knives burned into my skin, as I was turned into one of The Dark Creatures Of The Night, a vampire in other words, I could help but think of Bella. Was she coping as bad as me? The pain, which was even worse than this torture? Was the fact that I knew I'd never be able to see her again or the knives digging into me worse? This torture that was tranforming me was going to end, even if it took a decade or a century, I knew it would end, where as the pain I felt from knowing I would never know if my daughter was happy, protect her, laugh with her, see, was unbearable and I knew it would never fade.

Vampires, I knew from study, lived forever. I had realised when I was studying the characteristics or people, looking at the differences between us and them, people's fear had made the tale turn to a legend. But all legends were based on truth, however hidden, and I was going to live forever.

Unless . . . Unless I killed myself. Sure, Bella would hate me for it, but wouldn't she hate be for what I was becoming - a monster. Someone who thirsted on a species I had just been? I saw myself as that. As soon as this torture ended I was going to do it.

I had decided.

- - 4 months later - -

Bella's point of view

I let out a sob as I put on my dress. My white dress. White being the key word. My engagement ring glistened slightly in the small window in my dressing room. How was I to be happy? Was it not enough I had lost all of my nice family? Only one relative left who wished to dispose of me? Who gave permission to a man that chearly thought of me as some sort a trophy, something he could brag about to his friends?

This was not what I wanted. My father would never have allowed it. As I thought of him, tears leaked from my eyes - it still hurt to think of him. What I had wanted, was Carlisle walking me down the aisle, where I would be met by my one true love, someone I hadn't been given a chance to find.

I knew that by walking down the aisle today, I was condemning myself to life's worth of miserable years. I knew I was never going to be happy again. Why? Why was I even more unhappy? After all, thousands of girls had walked down the aisle, not wanting to marry the person they were forced to. But me?

I was more unhappy because they didn't have my soon-to-be-husband. He wasn't the regular idiot that roamed the country, looking for beautiful girls they could brag about. No, he was ten times worse. My soon-to-be-husband was abusive.

So much for happiness.