They'll Never Know
Bella has been abused and raped by Phill for 7 years. Events lead her to move to Forks. Will she push everyone away or let them in? Will she overcome the darkness within? All-Human story. Rated Adult for Rape/Cutting/Alcohol Use/No Drugs.
This will be a pretty intense story, rather dark with many serious issues, so you can't say I haven't warned you. That said, I do hope you like it :D Disclaimer: I own nothing, Stephenie Meyer does!
2. Chapter 2: Forks
Rating 5/5 Word Count 1310 Review this Chapter
Chapter 2: Forks.
It had been 6 days since I received the news of Renée's death - it had been six days since I had last cried. During the funeral yesterday, I didn't cry - I didn't shed one tear. The friends of Renée and Phill that attended the funeral thought I was just in a shocked state and that that was why I didn't cry - they were wrong.
I had cried for hours after I received the news - all the tears I shed then were for Renée, none were for that sick bastard who entirely deserved what happened to him. But after those hours; I didn't cry anymore, and hadn't since. I felt empty, hollow - a shell of my former self, which hadn't been much to start with. I had already been so broken thanks to him, the death or Renée only broke the last part of me that was still alive.
I knew I had to be strong for Charlie - I was all he had now - but I couldn't find it in me to keep up pretenses any longer. I wasn't fine, far from it. It didn't matter anyway - everyone would think I was just mourning my mother's death. It sickened me that that wasn't the truth, I wasn't mourning her death. I wasn't mourning anything anymore. I didn't even have it in me to hate anymore. I didn't have anything in me anymore.
The only thing I had left in me were nightmares - during all the years of abuse, I never once had a nightmare. Maybe that was because I knew I had to be strong for Renée; I don't know. But the day she and shit-head died, the nightmares started. Well, nightmares was a wrong word - it was only one nightmare; always the same. In the nightmare, I was in my room - shivering, scared to death. Then Phill would come, rip all my clothes of and violate me like he always did. That wasn't the most horrific part, though it sucked that now I was finally free of him that he had to torture me in my dreams too. No, the most horrific part was that Renée was also there. She just stood at the bedroom door, watching as Phill stripped me of any dignity I had left, smiling and laughing at me. That's when the screams began and I would wake up.
I had no idea if the nightmares had anything to do with their death or with my new sense of emptyness, but I didn't care. I cared about nothing anymore. I realized I always hoped one day fuck-face would go too far and kill me. Now that that option was out of the window, I wanted nothing more than to kill myself. The only reason I hadn't yet was because of Charlie. I could muster up enough emotions to still care for him - though it drained me even more. So, I wouldn't kill myself, for Charlie. But I would find some other outlet, I needed something.
I was sitting at the airport of Port Angelos now, waiting for Charlie to come and pick me up. My plain had landed early, an hour ago, but I hadn't called Charlie to let him know - I wanted some time alone. I wanted nothing more than to be left alone now, though I knew that was not a possibility.
"Bella!" I heard a familiar voice call out, pulling me from my intense thoughts - Charlie. I looked up and saw him running over to me; he never showed much emotion, I was like him in that way, but I could clearly see how happy he was to see me now. I stood up and met him halfway. He leaned in to hug me, but I flinched away from his touch - I hated when someone touched me, it only brought back memories I wanted badly to forget - he looked hurt by it, but quickly recovered. I couldn't bring it in myself to feel bad for hurting him, caring was all I had left, and it was hard to hold on to as it was.
"It's nice to see you, Bell," Charlie said, smiling at me - he looked old, older than the last time I had seen him. His hair was almost all gone, he had more wrinkles, he seemed to have a permanent frown on his forehead, and his smile didn't really reach his eyes like it would when I was little. All those little things made him look a lot older than he really was.
"Are you ready to go home?" Charlie asked, I simply nodded and followed him outside to his police cruiser. I frowned, I would have to save up for a car of my own if I wanted to avoid being driven to school in a cop car all the time, or walk.
The drive to Forks was quiet, Charlie wasn't much of a speaker, like me. I was grateful and annoyed by the silence at the same time. Grateful, because I didn't have to keep up happy pretenses. Annoyed, because of the silence I was thinking about topics I'd rather avoid as much as possible.
It was raining outside - I liked the rain, I used to love the sun when I was little, but when the abuse started, I began preffering the rain - it reminded me of my own sombre mood. Forks was one of the coldest, most rainy states in the US; it would come in handy these first few months. I was still covered in bruises, which would most likely need several months to heal. In Phoenix, people always thought I was a freak because I wore long sleeved shirts while it was hot outside, and my teachers would always question me about it. This wouldn't happen here; here, everyone wore long sleeved shirts since it was almost always cold outside.
When we reached Charlie's house, I gasped for air. On the driveway, an old, red, Chevy truck stood. It was beautiful! This was probably the first real emotion I had felt all week; awe. Charlie grinned when he saw my face, I eyed him curiously, I had no idea what was going on.
"I had a feeling you wouldn't want to have a police escort to school every day, so I bough you this truck. I got it from a good friend of mine, she's old, but she runs great," Charlie confessed, followed by a caugh and his head turning to avoid my shocked stare. Back home, I never got any presents from anyone but Renée. And whenever Phill would give me a present, to please Renée, he would take it away afterward and punish me for being so greedy - his words, not mine.
"T-thanks," I uttered, Charlie mumbled a silent 'you're welcome' and then we both got out of the cruiser and walked over to my new truck. I had never, ever had a car in my life. I had my license, though, and Renée would have given me a truck if it hadn't 've been for Phill convincing her I was too young and irresponsible. I had no idea how she could have believed that, she of all people knew I was anything but irresponsible. She always said I was middle-aged because I behaved more grown-up than her. If she had only known the reason behind that. But now it was too late, she would never know. She was gone, and I was hollow. And I would stay that way for the rest of my life, I was sure of that.
TO BE CONTINUED