Disclaimer: as much as I love playing with Stephenie Meyer's characters, they are not mine and never will be. sob

I was halfway done cooking Charlie's fish in the frying pan when the phone rang in the next room. "Damn," I muttered under my breath. Charlie would be home from work soon and I didn't want to think about what would happen to me if dinner wasn't ready. Then again, if it was him calling I would be dead if I didn't answer.

I set down my spatula and headed to our small living room. I was littered with empty beer bottles from when Charlie had passed out here last night. Making my way carefully around the clutter, I headed for the phone. I picked it up slowly, wondering who would be calling. It wouldn't be one of Charlie's coworkers from down at the station because he was still with them or had just left. I didn't have any friends at school to talk to.

"Hello?" I said. It sounded like a question.

"Oh, hello Bella." said a man's voice on the other end. "This is Billy Black, one of Charlie's old friends. Is he home?"

I vaguely remembered Billy from a long time ago. He lived on La Push reservation near Forks and had a son who was a little younger than me. I think his name was Jerry, or Jason . . . something like that.

"No, sorry he just left work but he should be back soon. Would you like me to tell him you called?" I replied, in a hurry to get back to the fish.

"Yes please, and tell him to call back," said Billy.

"Ya, sure," I said, talking extremely fast, "Look I have to go. Bye." And I hung up before he had a chance to answer. I raced back to the kitchen and smelled burnt fish. Fuck you Billy. I thought. I was going to be punished for this. He was going to be home any second and there was no food waiting for him. There was no way to salvage the fish. It was black and smelled terrible. I didn't even bother to take the pan off the gas stovetop.

Just then the front door flew open, hitting the opposite wall with a loud bang. It caused me to jump but I knew better than to make any noise. That was one of the most important rules. The more you scream the worse it will hurt. Charlie walked in and hung up his gun by the door. He went to the kitchen and plopped down in his chair.

"Well hello there Bella," Charlie said in a mock friendly voice "how was your day?"

I didn't say anything as he looked down at the empty plate in front of him.

"Isabella, where's dinner" he said still keeping his pleasant voice, but I could hear the rage burning beneath the surface.

He stood up to face me. I stood still by the stove, immobilized by my fear. This was nothing new but each time scarred me more than the next.

"You burnt it did you?" still he would sound friendly to someone else but it scarred me more than yelling. "Tut, tut . . . it seems like I am going to have to teach you a lesson Bella."

He moved forward so that he was only a foot in front of me.

"Can't you do anything right, Bella? It's only fish after all. I give you food and shelter and send you to school and provide you with clothes. All I ask in return is that I have a hot meal waiting on my table when I get home from work. Is that so much to ask?"

Charlie then slapped me across the face, hard. Hot tears sprang into my eyes but no sound escaped my lips.

"It's your fault she left," he whispered, no longer friendly, but menacing. He was talking about my mother now. "She never wanted you and neither do I. You're useless, you know that?"

He punched my stomach and I moaned and fell to the ground. Charlie grabbed me roughly by my hair and pulled my up to face him. He held my face just inches from his own, which was currently turning red with rage.

"You are good for nothing. You would be better off dead!" he spat at me as he said this.

"So kill me," I said, speaking for the first time since he had walked in the door.

"Ah but then people would wonder where you had gone my dear," he said, returning to his faux pleasant tone. Then suddenly, he threw me against the tile floor. I heard a loud crack and smelled my own blood. I was close to passing out from the pain.

But that wasn't the worst of the pain. Charlie grabbed my hand and pulled it up, placing the inside of my wrist against the still hot frying pan. A searing pain shot through my hand. I wriggled and tried in vain to get free. I gasped as the burn got worse. My struggles only made Charlie hold my hand there tighter which made it hurt worse. When he finally let me free, dropping me unceremoniously only the floor, leaving a layer of my skin stuck to the pan.

The last conscious thought I had was that this torture had to end, one way or another. I couldn't run away because I had no where to go. Charlie wasn't going to kill me anytime soon. So that was it. I would have to kill myself. I had to make this pain go away. I passed out on the kitchen floor knowing that soon my life would be over. I wouldn't have to worry about covering all of my bruises for school or making everything perfect for my dad. I would be free.

Good? Bad? What do you think? Should I continue? Edward will be in the next chapter. Review please!!!