Better when she's bad

So it begins

A/N - that is Eden's bike... Let me know what you think and feel free to point out any errors!

-1996-

Home, I'm finally going home, and to be honest I don't know how to feel. My life ended in that town, everything I loved was taken away from me there, but now I'm going home and I'm going to take my freedom back. It will take a while to get home, currently I'm in Montana, I have a long ways to go before I'm home. And where do I call home you ask? I'm from a moderate sized town in South Carolina, me and my parents lived in a house in the middle of no where. I always think of how lucky I was to have had smart parents, before Ryan and his men had shown up they had called the police and if they hadn't I don't know what would have happened to me, because there would have been no one around to help.

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-1996-

After leaving the police station I turn my bike in the direction of home and started. I didn't have much, everything I owned was on my bike. It was cold out, little snow flakes swirling in the air. January was only a week away. Huh I thought, that meant my birthday was soon too. I was born on January 14th in 1972, the day I was born was said to be the coldest one of that year, the coldest day ever recorded, my mother always said that it was the reason for my strange hair and eye color. My hair was as white as snow and my eyes as cold and blue as ice. I rode through the night, only stopping once I reached South Dakota. I found a cheep motel for the night and collapsed, getting home would take a while.

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-1997-

It's January 1st today, I'm in a bar in Missouri now and it is packed to say the least. I'm sitting at the bar now, minding my own business and drinking my whiskey, but of course that doesn't last long. Some drunk comes over and grabs my shoulder.

"Hey sweetheart," he slurs, "your looking awful lonely over here." I shrug off his hand and glare at him coldly,

"I'm good, why don't you find some other whore to play with." He grabs my thigh and tries to press his lips to mine, but before he can I grab my drink off the counter and smash it into his head, and then, as he falls, all hell breaks loose.

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-1997-

I sigh watching the cell door close and drop my head into my hands. Could I never just drink in peace. I was being detained for the night, apparently if you fracture a guys skull and shatter his nose you can't just walk, even if it was self defense. One day the cops are gonna stop buying that excuse and I'm gonna be stuck in the slammer. You can only kick the shit outta so many people before questions start being asked. And the truth is it felt god damn good smashing those scum bags teeth in. So what if I could've easily diffused the situation with some pretty smiles and nice words it was so much more satisfying to start a fight, but thats not all that surprising, ever since I lost my parents I've had a short fuse and according to most people a screw loose to go with it. Whatever, this is just as good of a place to sleep as any and it's free. I sigh again before dropping back on the cot and letting sleep take me... after a while you start to get used to these crappy jail cell beds.

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-1988-

I looked at the bare mattress sitting in the corner of my room before looking back at the door. I knew it was only a matter of time before Jim, one of my current foster parents, came up stairs. I could hear him and his wife raging and screaming at each other. It was a common thing in this household, but that wasn't what had my hands shaking or my breath catching in my throat, it was what would come after. Jim would come up here and take his rage out on me. Beat me until I was black and blue, sobbing on the floor. I could hear his heavy foot steps coming up the stairs and tried to brace myself for what was to come. The door slammed open and there he stood seething with rage and glaring at me. I watched as he unbuckled and slid his belt off.

"No" I whispered cowering away, "please no, I've done nothing wrong." I tried stumbling away, but it was to late as he brought his belt down on me.

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-1997-

I woke with a start pain searing through my back and sweat covering my body, my breath coming in short gasps. I quickly reached for my back, my fingers finding the scars free of blood and healed, as much as they would. It had been three days since I had a nightmare or memory, whatever you want to call them. I was just counting my blessings it wasn't to long ago that I had them every night. Although once you go through enough shit it stops haunting your dreams and you start being able to live with it. 1988, I remember that year like it was yesterday. It was one of those things I don't think I could ever forget. Almost a year had past since my parents had died. I wasn't in the papers anymore and the case had gone cold. I was dumped into the foster system since I had no living relatives and no one willing to take me in. That night in particular would always be burned into my memory. Jim whipped me for what felt like hours, I remember every lash of his belt, how it felt biting into my skin. He whipped me until I felt like I was dead, lying on the cool wood floor completely numb and then he just left laughing like a mad man. I remember lying there simply waiting for death to claim me but as I felt myself start to drift off I remembered my parents how strong and determined they where in the end how disappointed they would be if I gave up. I felt a rush of energy through my body as I clenched my teeth and forced myself from the floor I would escape this place and I would avenge my parents. Whoever said love is for the weak was wrong. Love is the only thing that can make us truly strong.