Broken
I sighed staring down at my trainers. I could feel the rain soaking through my clothes but I didn't look up. Another day in hell, I thought miserably. I mentally briefed myself for what was to come and pushed open the front door. I could hear the baseball on the T.V and hoped that Charlie, my dad if that's what you would call him, hadn't heard me come in. I wasn't so lucky. My mum, Renee died when I was seven and I was sent to live with the only family member I had left, Charlie. Inside I was greatful that Renee didn't have to see the monster Charlie had became, but if she hadn't died I wouldn't be here to see it, feel it, and live with it either. Renee had divorced Charlie when I was little, maybe two or three, and I had only saw him for a week or two every summer. Now, Now this was my permanent home. When I first moved here Charlie was 'pleasent'. Well he spoke to me and I spoke back. Everything changed when I turned nine, two years since I moved here. That's when I made a mistake, I spilled some juice on the cream carpet, the purple stain from the Ribena is infact still there, and he struck me. That's when it started. Now almost every day I suffer at the hands, feet and even teeth of Charlie. Personally I think it's because I remind him of Renee, but really I don't know why, I just know that he does it and that he doesn't need a reason. Today was no different, I held my arm on the way to my bedroom and locked myself in. I looked at the area that was sore and I could see a small bruise appearing under the skin. I sneaked to the bathroom as quiet as possible and I changed into a pair of pjymas and brushed my teeth. Once I was safely back in my room I curled into a ball under the covers and cried myself to sleep. This was my routine at night. When my alarm sounded in the morning I jumped, I got out of bed and checked to make sure Charlie was away to work before jumping in the shower and getting dressed. I didn't know which one was worse, being at home or being at school. Either way I had to go to school, this town was small and even something as little as getting your hair trimmed was news. With Charlie being the towns police chief, he didn't miss much, and his only daughter 'dogging' school was something that was certain to get back to him. So after a slice of toast, I braced myself with a deep breath and headed out to my truck. Yes, my truck, my rustic red, worn down, beautiful peice of crap that I loved. I heard sniggers as I climbed out the truck and reached to lock it.
"As if anyone would want to steal that peice of shit!" I heard a familiar voice say. Edward Cullen. I despised the boy, the same as he despised me. Edward was the bully. The player. The big shot. Me? I was little miss nobody that kept to herself. So why do we despise each other? I seemed to be the only girl at Forks high that didn't fall for his 'charm'. He didn't like it, he didn't like it one little bit. It was then he started making my school life a misery. I would have been happy to be alone, I wanted to be alone, just to have some time to myself without worry or fear. I didn't want friends, what's a friend if you can't tell them the truth, can't take them home. It didn't bother me that nobody spoke to me, because I didn't speak to them. Not Edward, he decided to start 'bullying' me in a sense. Childish things like calling me names, tripping me up and spreading rumours. I tried to ignore it, it was better than getting a beating of Charlie, but nonetheless it still hurt. I was human, I couldn't escape it, the emotions were there. The feelings of hurt and rejection came wether I wanted them to or not. Sometimes, only sometimes I wished there was someone, anyone, that I could confide in, that I could tell it all too, but it would only get worse then, it would get complicated and as bad as it is, its easy.
