A Twilight Fanfiction, I do not own the Twilight Saga.
Grace has been living with her abusive kidnapper, Matt, for nearly four years. Her family commited suicide after losing her. Covering his tracks, he drags the child from her sunny home in Jacksonville to the rainy ghost town of Forks, Washington. Forced to eat, sleep, and breathe his orders, Grace is a prisoner. After being allowed at Forks High, will a certain family help her escape the torturous life she's known for so long?
Oh, I Love My Life!
I bit my lip and tried not to cry out. If I made noise, it would only infuriate him more. I quickly got to my feet and bounded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab the eggs. Taking extra care cracking the fragile eggs so no shells would tumble into the meal, I turned the stove on and flicked the spatula around without another sound.
"Hurry up! I'm not gettin' any younger here, Gracie-poo! You wouldn't want me gettin' angry, now, would you?" he chided, sending shivers up my spine as he said my name with a sickening rise in pitch.
"No, sir," came my quiet reply as I set the plate in front of him and backed away quickly.
He grumbled as he ate, huffing when he got up and slipped his shoes on. Muttering a quick "Do your chores!", he was off to the bar for the day.
I blew a loud sigh of relief, sinking against the wall. Gently, I rubbed my hands against my boney shoulders and winced when I pressed too hard.
"Why can't my life just go back to the way it was?" I asked, looking up at the ceiling and rocking back and forth on my heels, trying not to sob, as I needed the water desperately. Matt only let me eat once in a while, and I could have whatever water I managed to get from the leaks, dripping like timers from the rotten roof to the steel buckets laid out underneath.
Speaking of which, I snagged one of the buckets. Inside was about a half cup of fresh rainwater from the previous night's storm. I greedily drank the entire thing, savoring the cool, refreshing taste on my dry and needy toungue. I gulped one last time and let out a momentary sigh of content. I needed that. I needed that so much...
I made my way down the steps to the basement, where my dirty, ragged mattress lay and the feeble blanket and pillow decorated the top. I made my bed as best I could and sat by the small window that was rarely uncovered.
I could run away... A voice inside me whispered
No... no... I would be dead. Matt said it himself...
"Take one step outside this house and I will murder you, slowly, painfully, making you regret every second you chose to disobey me..."
He had emphasized that with a brutal beating, and I'd never been so scared until then.
So I vowed, right then, that I would never escape.