Twilight: Bonnie Cullen.

Chapter One: Pain

PAIN; noun-1. physical suffering or distress, as due to injury, illness, etc. 2. a distressing sensation in a particular part of the body: a back pain.3. mental or emotional suffering or torment: I am sorry my news causes you such pain.)

*Bonnies POV*

I lay stiff in pain on the floor of my room, leaning against my single bedframe. I rested my head on the bed as I clutched my left side with my hands, applying pressure, praying for the pain to leave my body. The cold wooden floor sent shivers from my exposed legs, right through my spin.

"Tomorrow will be better." I whimpered to myself, staring out the window into the warm summer night moonlight. Tears rolled down my face as the pain in my side spread through my ribs and I couldnt hold in the scream that escaped my mouth.

I stared around my moonlit room, through my blury, teary eyes. I looked over to Michael, who was laying unconscious next to me on the cold floor. I would have placed his head on my lap, but I couldnt bear the pain of moving. He looked so peaceful, laying there.

"Shut up, you little bitch!" I heard my father bellow from downstairs, through my bedroom door. "Or Ill shut you up myself!" My fathers voice was full of rage and it sent the same wave of fear through me the first night my father ever laid his huge hand on me. It was the night of my mothers funeral, and I was six years old. He slapped me across the face, leaving a huge bruise and sparking suspicions at my school. Of course when my teachers ask about the marks that appeared all over my body, I told them the classic. I fell. But, of course, that only lasted for a while before it was taken seriously.

When social services landed on my front door step, my father automatically thought I told. And even though I thought of it manys a time, I didnt. His threats were too dangerous to even risk breathing a word of my abuse. And ever since, the abuse got worse as my father got smarter. As the years progressed, he learned to hid the marks, by beating my torso and legs, never the face. That way I had a purple and black body, with a olive coloured, clean, clear face.

Although, that night he had failed miserably.

I had just got of the bus from school and walked in my front door when I opened up to a sight of my father and brother, neck to neck in a fight.

I ran in screaming, as Dad had Michael pinned against the wall by his throat, holding him slightly of the wooden floor in the hallway. Michael's face was turning purple as he struggled to fight for air and his athletic built body was limp, leaning against the wall. My father had his fist clenched, seconds away from punching Michael in his purple face.

As I walked in and seen the sight infront of me, I knew that my brother wouldnt have a hope in hell unless I intervened. I dumped my book bag on the floor and sprinted towards my intoxicated father, and it didnt take much force from my small yet athletic body to make him drop Michael onto the floor, and stagger back and fall on his ass on the hard wooden floor.

As Michael regained his breath on the floor, I kneeled next to him, suddenly feeling the impact of the shove I gave my father down my right hand side. I didnt show it though. Then and there, I had to help Michael. As the colour returned to Michaels face, and his breathing started to stabilize, Michael choked me in an almighty embrace.

"Michael, jesus christ. Are you okay?" I whimpered into his shaking shoulder, I clutched a handful of his soft brown hair and a handful of his black tshirt in my other hand, as he smothered me in the hug. I actually had forgotten about my violent, cruel father who was laying on the floor, drunk, on the other side of the hall, then I felt Michael breaking our embrace and dragging me to my feet. "Bonnie, go upstairs." Michael had a look in his ocean blue eyes that only our father ever brought out. Anger.