Yours, now and forever.

Chapter 1

*disclaimer* this isn't much connected to the OUAT series and Peter isn't Rumplestiltskin's father in this and Captain Hook isn't a hero so yeh. There's swearing and violence but other then that nothing to vulgar.

ALSO: PLEASE READ THIS- A lot of this book contains trigger warnings for things such  as abuse violence insomnia or other things like that, so yeh, you've been warned xx

If something is in italics - it is someone's thoughts
If something is in bold- it is a dream
If something is in both- it's a flashback or a line from the book.

ngl I don't rly stick to this very well lmao but I do where I can yk. it'll get easier to follow as you go along.

now, read my book, pls and thank you.

My mother named me Isabella, but always insisted to call me Bella. She said that it meant 'beautiful girl' which apparently suited me. I always thought the name was far too girly and sweet for my character, and I definitely did not feel like I fit the description of 'Bella' but I loved my mum, so I put up with it, it was either that or Izzie, and I refuse that too. My Mum was a kind and gentle woman, too sweet for the world around her, and always giving to others without expecting back.

My dad was...different from her. He was a short tempered man, as my mum and me described him to others. In reality he was a crappy father. He never addressed me or mum by our names, it was always "hey kid!" Or "you!" And he was a complete drunk, I never saw him without some sort of drink, and when he was drunk he would be violent, and blame me for things I couldn't even control. Saying things like "you just had to be born didn't you! You just had to be born make your brother leave!" My brother was their child before me. He was around 7/8 when I was born, he disappeared just a few weeks after. I never even got to tell him my first words. My Dad always says he ran away because of me. But how is that my fault?

Anyway, enough about my dumb past. This is about now. "It's just me and my Dad right now, well, and Estella. That's his new girlfriend mum." I sniffed slightly. "She's not nearly as kind as you were, she's not kind at all really, but I'm trying to be good to them, just like you did."

"Hey kid, the church is gonna close soon." A tall man looked down upon me, a shovel in his hand and his clothes filthy with mud and sweat. I looked at the sky and saw that it had already gotten dark, and clouds were consuming the sky, hiding the stars.

"Sorry, can I just say goodbye?" I asked hugging my knees up to my chest and looking back up to the man. He simply nodded once and walked away, a slight hint of guilt and pitty in his eyes. "I have to go now mum, but I'll see you soon, promise." I brought two fingers to my lips and kissed them, then pressed them gently up against the part of the grave where my mum's name had been written. I really hated saying goodbye to her, I missed her so much. I stood up from the wet grass and brushed the extra raindrops off from my jacket. Then thanked the man for the extra time and walked away, neatly closing the gate behind me.

The wind picked up as I walked the miles home. It was four all the way, but worth it to see my mum. I reached the block of flats that we lived in, pressed the bell and got buzzed up after a couple of moments. The door clicked open into the apartment and I saw the usual sight. My dad and Estella glued to the buffering tv, their faces lit up by only the flashing screen and a lamp. Around 5, no, 6 beer bottles empty next to my dad on a small coffee table and one half empty in his hand. "Where you been?" He said as I closed the door behind me.

"Visiting mum." I mumbled, trying to walk away from the conversation, adjusting my backpack as I did.

"No you weren't, your mum is right next to me." He snapped sternly, I paused, locking eyes suddenly with Estella sat in the chair next to him. Her face twisted into a sickly smile and she tilted her head, making the stupidest puppy eyes at me.

"She's not my mum, just like Stacey wasn't. And Anne wasn't, and Brittany wasn-" I was cut off by his yelling.

"Don't be disrespectful you little brat!" He struggled to a standing position, stumbling over to me and stopping in front of me. "Say it! Say she's your mum!" I pressed my lips together and breathed heavily, trying to hold in my slight fear. I would never call her my mum! I would never call any other woman my mum! I shook my head rapidly at him, seeing the fire burning in his eyes. His hand cracked into a tight fist and raised above his head, crashing down onto my skull. Pain shot through me and I couldn't help but yell out a little. "SAY IT!"

"Just let me go to my room dad, I won't bother you anymore." I said, almost whispering. He shoved me over and into the counter behind me, before scoffing and walking back to his seat. Both of them returned to their show, as if nothing had even happened. Right, cause I'm just his fucking daughter, it's fine. I walked into my room and threw my bag down onto the bed. I walked up to the mirror and lifted my sleeve, just a red mark where I'd hit the counter, no problem. I slowly ran my fingers through my hair, feeling around where his fist had hit me. A big lump made itself known under my finger tips. I let out a deep sigh and collapsed onto the bed.

Mum made this all better, mum never yelled, or hit anyone. I checked the clock. 11:34. I knew those two would be heading to bed soon. I clicked my lamp on, turning the ceiling light off, and got changed into my pyjamas. Just some loose shorts and a big, soft hoodie. I tied my hair into a comfortable ponytail and let the extra pieces fall out so it felt just right. I huddled up into my bed, covering myself with my blanket and reached under my pillow to grab my prize possessions, I pulled them out slowly, a small metal flashlight, and a hardback book.

Charlotte's web.

I flicked the page open, I knew exactly what was going to happen, but the nostalgia of reading it, especially when I had just been visiting my mum, took me back to the days when she would cuddle up, with me in her arms, and read it with me. I clicked my torch on and began to read.

'Wilbur didn't want food, he wanted love. He wanted a friend- someone who would play with him....' I read, after about an hour I heard the noises of the two adults going to bed, the clicking of lights and slamming of doors. I rolled my eyes at them, didn't they think I was asleep? Do they even care? I continued to read on, watching the hours go by, ticking into the next morning as usual. I was used to seeing that sunrise through my window now. I rolled out of bed again, unwrapped myself from my blanket and listened carefully for the sound of my dad hitting the floor, on yet another hang over.