Unforgivable Lacerations

Chapter Nineteen

Jacob had kept his promise and visited every day, always being here, watching, commenting and purposefully making my life a living hell. The first discussion we had was about my escape, unsurprisingly, it was of him informing me of my new rules that if broken, consequences would follow.

"You can't escape us," he shook his head, munching on a breakfast bar, dropping crumbs- which I would have to sweep- as he paced. "We have eyes everywhere, and I will know every time you even attempt to leave. There's simply no point- surely you're smart enough to know that," he laughed. "If you do escape," he turned his head towards me, swallowing the rest of his bar and stopping his pace, utterly serious, "I will make your death painful and slow. It'll also be a brilliant new movie for your beloved Cullens, wouldn't it?" He reminded me of James when the hunter was videoing me, torturing me while creating a horrifying movie, I flinched at the memory. "So, where's my dinner?" he asked. My eyes widened at the change of conversation. 

"Excuse me?" I finally said, shocked and afraid as my words trembled out of my chapped lips. 

"You heard me, or are you deaf now?"

"Dinner-?"

"Oh, don't worry about it, Isabella, I'm not moving in. Just hungry." He shrugged.

"It's Bella," I snapped. I didn't know where the confidence had grown from but it went as quickly as it came, leaving the deathly pause of silence in its wake. 

Fuck-ity-fuck-fuck. 

"I know, but 'Bella' means beautiful in Italian," his voice grazed, almost a growl, "and you're far from it. 'Cause really, I'm not sure even 'pretty' could be used for you, let alone 'beautiful.'" 

I took the comments to heart, and each time I did I thought about how Edward wouldn't return to this. To me. 

Fearful of what he would do if I declined Jacob dinner, I went to the kitchen and started pizza. A quick and easy meal to make that consisted of fries and pizza, was ready in twenty minutes. I had dished it on a large plate so we could pick how much we both wanted.

My mind constantly thought about his comment throughout cooking. 

"Lovely," he said from behind me. He then reached across and took the large plate holding the pizza. I was astonished as he then grabbed his and most of my chips and placed them on the pizza. Like a dog, he dug in and devoured the meal that was originally for two. I didn't dare say anything but peck at the chips I had in front of me. I was scared, so scared.  We ate in silence apart from his humming, he had a small smile on his face as well, it creeped me out and so I kept as much distance between us as I could.

He finished his meal with an open mouthed burp, proof that he needed to still grow up, I took the plate from him and placed the dishes in the sink. The gash on my head needed its stitches to be removed, by me, and I didn't want Jacob here while I did that- I didn't want him here, at all, but I had no say. 

Placing a careful expression on my face, I listened to his insults and accusations- soaking them in even though I didn't want to. "You're retarded even to go out with that crackhead," "Do you have a brain up there," "I think you should start wearing makeup, just so it's less embarrassing for me to be beside you." Finally, he stood claiming he had to head back, not that I really cared where he was going just the fact that he was leaving. When he left, I went straight to work, using first-aid scissors to cut the thread, tugging it lightly, causing the skin to pull, but after twenty minutes the thread was out, leaving a healing cut. 

After I had finished, I went to the study for a book; there was two bookshelves either side of the rectangular room, my piano in the corner, a desk was at the far end with a computer sitting on it and the cream walls matched the oak furniture. I went straight to the classic section of the bookcase and became stuck between the decision of Romeo and Juliet or Wuthering Heights, both romance novels, painfully, but I missed my routine of classics. I had neglected them for quite some time, either by playing the piano or not wanting any reminder of romance. However, now I missed the large words and the posh formality of old English classics.