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My Bronze Haired Angel

Summary:
HEY! EVERY ONE! I HAVE A DELIMA. SHOULD I PUT THIS ON HOLD??? OR GET HELP FROM YOU GUYS. IF YOU WANT TO HELP ME, SEE MY PROFILE FOR DETAILS IF YOU WANT ME TO HAVE THIS ON HOLD THEN E-MAIL ME AT skangaroo08@aol.com THANKS FOR YOUR TIME!!


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4. 4. The Stranger In The Silver Volvo

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 954   Review this Chapter

EIGHT YEARS LATER (Bella’s 13) B.P.O.V.

I got up this morning around 4:30. The list Phil gave me was twice as long as yesterdays. I had a list of thing I had to complete through out the day. If I get them done, then I get to eat. Unfortunately, I don’t go to school, so I can’t eat there. I’m “home schooled”. Last time I at was Thursday. It is Monday…

My stomach growled loudly today. I’ve never been this hungry my whole life. ‘Please just let me eat today.’ I thought. I started on my “chores”.

By 7:00 Phil woke up. I was down to number 50 on the list and I wasn’t even half way done.

“Bella!” Phil yelled. I immediately hunkered down. I forgot to fix him breakfast. So I won’t get fed today. My stomach growled hungrily. Phil came storming in. I looked down; he had his belt in his hand.

“Y-yes P-ph-Phil?” I stuttered.

“Shirt off!” He commanded. I slipped my shirt of and stood there in my bra. I turned around and he hit my in the back with the belt. I gripped the counter so I wouldn’t scream out. “Where’s my breakfast?”

“I-I d-don’t h-ha-have I-it.”

“Well! You’re gonna pay! Thinking you don’t have to listen to me!” Phil yelled as he whipped me in the back until my back was red and raw.

“P-please s-st-stop.” I begged. My back hurt so bad. Phil stopped. I saw him smile in the corner of my eye.

“Is your back hurting Bella?” He asked. I nodded mutely. Phil laughed; then he turned his belt around as if he was going to put it back on. Then he started hitting me with the buckle end. I screamed in pain. By the time he stopped my back was sore and bleeding. I was on the floor, crying and Phil kicked me in the side. I fell into the floor cabinets. My back grazing the doors. Again, I screamed from the unbearable pain. “Get up!” Phil yelled as he grabbed me by my neck and held me against the wall. He pushed me against the wall harder and harder and I remembered this from when I was younger…

Just when I was about to lost consciousness, Phil let me get in a few deep breaths. Then he held my neck again. But this time, he punched me in the stomach repeatedly, winding me.

“Go Walk The Dogs!” He ordered. Fear shown in my eyes. The dogs were pit-bulls. Don’t get me wrong. They were the best dogs when they were pups. But Phil made sure to beat that right out of them. Now there vicious and mean and, if they even feel threatened, they’ll chew you to pieces…

So I walked into the garage and walked slowly toward them with the leashes in hand. They growled slightly, I must have moved to fast. I stopped abruptly. Then I started toward them slowly. I hooked the leashes on the two dogs and we headed out the back. Their names were Sniff and Bleeder. Sniff was white with brown spots and Bleeder is all black. I was mostly afraid of Bleeder. I shuddered just thinking about what he could do to me if I scared him.

They pulled me around town. I raced to keep up with them. We ran around the whole town of Forks. We were on our way to Phil's house (My Mom left me, with Phil, when I turned ten) when the dogs stopped dead in there tracks in front of the entrance of an old mansion that had been abandoned. A silver Volvo pulled out of the driveway, but the driver just stared at me. The dogs were scared out of there wits. But I recognized the driver from somewhere. His bronze hair was a mess and his golden eyes seemed to ask me a question. Then the dogs took off running and I was sent running forward, just barely catching myself from falling flat on my face. They raced all the way home and layed in a pile by the back door in the garage.

We were gone for an hour and a half and I was exhausted. And my stomach growled even louder than before. When I got in the house, I heard the sizzle of bacon. As I walked farther into the house, closer to the kitchen, I could smell it. 'BACON!' My senses yelled at me. My stomach begging to be fed, growled long and loudly. I stepped into the kitchen, my eyes down- casted. My stomach didn't stop growling until Phil turned around. Even then it still growled, just quietly. The way my stomach rumbled under my skin made me nauseas. And the fact that Phil knew I was hungry made it worse. He would use this to his advantage.

"Hungry, Bella?" Phil asked me, smiling. I debated whether or not I should answer. I nodded. "Here." He said handing me a slice of bacon. I ate it slowly. Savoring the flavor and texture of it. Only when I swallowed did I realize why he gave me that bacon. It only teased my growling stomach. Now it was almost unbearable. Saliva filled up in my mouth as I watched Phil eat his huge, greasy bacon sandwich. That he ate with eggs and toast. My stomach growled loudly. Not quieting for a second, so I felt every thing my stomach was trying to tell me. Phil just laughed at me and threw me down the stairs to the basement. Meanwhile a silver Volvo with an inhumanly beautiful bronze haired man drove by for the third time....