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.
I chose Romeo and Juliet, wanting to be taken back to before my birthday party when Edward and I watched the film. It was perfect then. I settled in my bedroom, with only the lamp on beside me, the light blue room and occasional red furnishings made it have a coastal theme.
I knew the book well and would be able to retell it line-by-line without it in front of me. The battered copy had been on various journeys with me and taken me back to late sixteen century many times, but now it reminded me of Carlisle, as when I read it I thought of how only a few decades later Carlisle was born, England being also the tie between the two.
I slapped the book shut and threw it lazily on the bedside table, frustrated that I couldn't have a single break.
The clock showed that it was late and I knew I needed to hit the sack for the night, therefore, I unwrapped myself from the bedsheets, went into the bathroom, its door being attached to the bedroom, and stepped quickly into the shower.
After doing my nightly routine, I checked that all the doors were locked and dived under the blankets. I never really believed in the saying 'silence is deafening' but now I understood what it meant. The sound of my breathing and my faint heartbeat was the only things my ears could pick up; no leaves rustled, the wind didn't howl and the boiler didn't rumble. 'Scared' was an understatement to the chilling feeling I was in possessed with. I kept my eyes wide open, foolishly thinking that I was more on guard, but there were vampires and wolves lurking around. Were zombies real? Ghosts? It was possible, and I wouldn't be surprised if they wanted to harm me too.
I shut my eyes, though, waiting hours until I traveled in time, through my unconsciousness, to weeks before.
"Hi, Dad," I choked through my tears, looking at the writing engraved in the black marble. His name, his date of birth, his date of death, "Beloved father, friend and chief." The sharp pain was dense enough to cut with a knife, being a physical reminder that I missed him.
Crouching down to put the large bunch of flowers next to him, consisting of blooming baby blue freesias, vibrant daffodils, crystal white lilies and innocent daisies stuck out of the ribbon, I began to speak.
"I brought you these," I said, arranging them until they were perfect. I wouldn't settle for anything less, everything had to be just perfect for Dad. "I know you're not a fan of flowers and would rather Budweiser but I didn't think that would be appropriate," I chuckled softly, "I am missing you, Dad. I hope you are having a lovely birthday up there." In heaven. "I have finished the cottage, it's gorgeous, you would have loved it."
Well, it was gorgeous before Jacob.
"I'm looking for a job, well, my name is on the agency's list. That counts right?" I sighed. I didn't know what else to say, as if I told him what was actually going on and someone heard, I would be sent to a mental hospital. 'Oh, did I tell you? A pack of revengeful sadistic wolves, who are only after me since I dated a vampire, are stalking me. Yeah, I was involved in a car-crash with them as well.' I didn't think that would go well. Instead of carrying on talking, I went to the faucet, that was situated on the outskirt of the cemetery and brought an old rag. I cleaned the marble until it was spotless and then placed the rag back, wanting to waste as much time here than be back at the cottage.
But everything had to come to an end. When walking back I looked at the ages on the gravestones; seventy-four, fifty-two, twenty-seven, eighty-nine, seventy-seven, thirteen... Some were so young, too young, and it made the grief wrap around me tighter as if the general atmosphere was infectious.
I tried to ignore the feeling of being watched as I began my treck, ignore the dark figure in the trees, as I didn't want to scare myself before walking back a thirteen-mile hike back home. It was overly possible to become lost on the way, but if I stuck close to the roads then I should be nothing but tired.
Waking up from a dream that was actually a memory made me feel slightly confused as to where I was for a split second. I kept my plans for Dad on his birthday, visiting him even though I didn't have my truck. Apparently, from what Jacob said, the pack did me a 'favor' of dumping it; which means I didn't have any sort of transport and would have to do my traveling by foot, I suspected it was their plan so I couldn't escape again.
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I checked the clock, surprised that I hadn't slept in, and in a reluctant manner, I dragged myself downstairs to start breakfast for my starving stomach. Halfway down the stairs, I heard the mumbling of voices, causing me to freeze on the spot, and my heart beginning to take action, racing for me. Oh for goodness sake. My mind adverted itself with the memory of the 'television incident' that happened in Dad's house. Breathe Bella. I gave myself a prep-talk and crept down the remaining stairs- unarmed.
"Mornin', Isabella!" Jacob shouted. I screamed the place down in a response, stepping back until my back hit the wall beside the stairs, as he made me jump.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" I shrieked. Trying to calm my rapid heart as my hand stayed on my chest, looking as if I was protecting it.
"Well, I am glad you asked. But before I get into it, make me breakfast."
"Wh-hat?" I stuttered, I should have been used to it, though. However, such an abrupt order caused me to falter. 'Why should I?' I wanted to say, answering back as this was my house.
But I couldn't, as much as I wished, Jacob was obviously a short-tempered boy, and could easily kill me and hurt me.
"I'm not repeating myself. I'm hungry." I shook my head to clear it and then walked to the cupboards, biting my lip in confusion and agitation. I hated this. "Oh, and at least make it a decent sized one," he added.
I looked back at him to make sure he was serious. He was.
I was instructed furthermore to make a full breakfast with bacon, sausages, toast, mushrooms and beans. When I was dishing our breakfasts up, giving Jacob a majority yet still a decent sized portion for me, the monster thought it to best to open his mouth.
"You're not eating all of that are you?" His tone full of incredulity. I didn't know what he meant, frowning as I checked my plate. I didn't have much on it.
"Yes..."I shook my head as if to say 'duh, why not?'
"I'm just saying," he held his hands up, palms facing forward in a surrender action "but your legs and stomach are on the... larger size. I don't think anyone wants to see more on you." He let his words sink in before he continued, my body unleashing a wash of numb that rippled inside me. "You know what this guy said on T.V, the disease of obesity is ever growing."
Tears flooded my eyes, threatening to fall as I looked down, seeing my stomach and legs in a completely different light. There was nothing wrong with me, right? I thought I was fine, apart from looking dead. Was that what everyone thought of me like? Was that why Edward easily left me, seeing that I was heading for disaster anyway? Of course, there was nothing wrong with having a larger frame, but it made me feel as though I wasn't good enough- more so than before.
I knew it! I knew I was unworthy. A pathetic smile reached my lips, silently telling me I had failed. Who would want me with another flaw? Was I shit at everything?
I shut my eyes in order to prevent the tears.
"My weight and size have nothing to do with you. I will eat what I want," I said, confident on the outside. I needed to at least look strong.
"If I am going to be with you, it has got something to do with me. You're disgusting, Isabella." I flinched, bit my lip harder. "Really, if I was you and had that to carry around," he pointed his finger to my figure "I would top myself." My heart was hammering in my chest, bile was in my throat, and my heart was drowning in pain.
Using my frozen posture as an advantage, he walked over to me and scooped all of my food onto his plate. "It's unfortunate that your name means 'beautiful' but you're nothing close." That was the first time I contemplated self-induced vomiting, knowing that I obviously needed to cut the calories. "Just grab a piece of bread, that shouldn't be too harmful."
Jaw locked, I rotated around and grabbed a slice out of the cupboard, checking the calorie count as well.
"We're going to the Clearwater's barbecue today," Jacob said, eating his two-man breakfast in comparison to my half a slice of bread- no butter. Jacob then looked at me, his beady dark eyes searching mine. "It's a pack thing but my dad and Sue will be there. Don't make more of an embarrassment of yourself by babbling so keep your lip shut, it's not like anyone wants you there anyway. But the pack requires you there only to see their achievement." He pointed to the scars on my body from the car crash. "So you sadly have to ruin my vibe by coming."
"Okay," I replied, knowing there was no point in saying anything else, already so close to tears. I hated this. Did I really look so bad? What was wrong with me?!
"Clean up and get ready," he instructed coldly after finishing his breakfast that I had to sit and watch. I stood and collected his plate and glass, scrubbed them in the sink and shuffled upstairs, noting on the way that Jacob was watching television.
As a consequence of the comment about my weight, I stood in front of the mirror in my underwear, trying to see what he meant. My thighs were large, too large, my hips were wide, too wide, and my stomach needed to be thinner. I saw what he meant. I knew he would have heard me if I started crying so I gulped back the rising lumps in my throat.
I hate this! I hate me!
I dressed quickly, making sure I was wearing clothing that covered mostly everywhere. Why would I want to display this? It was only when I closed the wardrobe door that I saw a dark figure leaned against the wall.
"What the hell?!" I yelled as Jacob was watching me get dressed. How long had he been there? Did he see me in my underwear? Why was he there? It didn't escape my attention of his jeans being strained by him. A fear shot through my body as well as this disgusting dirt that slid over my body, making me squirm.
I was so close to tears.
Jacob chuckled a cocky arrogant sound and trekked down the stairs without a word. Why would he even want to see me? I had never felt like a whore until now. It was as if I was indecent.
Rushing, I applied makeup to cover my hideous face, hoping I was at least presentable and wouldn't be too of a harmful sight. I didn't have much time when Jacob called for me as I just glared at my reflection. Why did I have to look like this? Be like this?
"Isabella! Get your fat ass down here, we're going to be late if you don't get a move on!" I flinched at his adjectives but composed myself quickly, not wanting to show weakness. One steady breath before I tumbled down the stairs, lip between my teeth as my nerves spiked.
He was waiting for me by the front door, leaning against the wall. "You finally ready?" I nodded in response while he wrenched the door open and walked out to the front drive, I followed and locked the door behind me; holding my hunger-pleading stomach while walking.
His car was a tomato red with creaky doors and an older odor. Nonetheless, it was in better condition to mine. "This is my VW Rabbit, the one I was making and got a few parts for by asking you to split up with Edward." I didn't answer, but walk around the car and opened the door- hoping my stomach wouldn't growl.
His car growled as the engine came alive, and before I drew a breath we were speeding down the drive, my head whacked backward to the headrest as a result of the force. Even now, I had my thighs slightly lifted off of the seat to make them look smaller, instead of them lying flat and fat. I was trying, I really was.
"Remember Harry died from a heart attack so don't mention him," he sneered, surprising me with this news. I didn't know! Harry was Dad's best friend, and however unfortunate the events were, at least they were reunited. That was the only comfort I received from the new information.
"Okay," I answered unenthusiastically, watching the trees swipe pass and the sky roll with gray clouds.
The rest of the drive was silent apart from the loud engine of the car, although, it was quieter than my old truck. I missed the truck already as if that thing was part of me. It was evident to see that they were stripping me from all the things I had and loved, but there wasn't much they could strip away anymore, no one loved me, I didn't have anything apart from the cottage.
That was it, just a cottage to my name. No family. No friends. No life.
"Pretend Bella, pretend that you're happy, that you have a family and your life is worth living," I heard, and as Jacob didn't say it I knew it was the voice in my head.
*_*_*_*_*
Edited.
This chapter plays with Bella's self-confidence. Bella's far from fat, she's actually unhealthily underweight, but it just proves what words can do and how it can change someone's self-esteem and perspective.
There's nothing wrong AT ALL with people that have a larger build.
They are beautiful as much as the next person, but the way Jacob says it... well. You can imagine the impact it has.
I hope this was okay.
-Ella Louise