Chapter 1: BPOV
    “Isabella Mary Swan, get your ass down here right now!” he yelled. I hurried out of bed and ran downstairs to face the impending danger of my so called “father” Charlie Swan. My dad is the police officer for Forks, Washington. I know what you’re thinking that because he’s a cope he should be the good guy well guess again. Charlie has two different kinds of hobbies that make him different from about 75 % of the fathers of the United States of America. His first is to drink and when he wasn’t drinking he was doing his second hobby which was beating his daughter known as me. Charlie, has been beating and sexually abusing me ever seen my mother, Renee died. My mother died when I was only 5 years old though I don’t know how she died but all I do know is that Charlie blames me which explains why I get the daily beatings from hell.
“Coming char- dad” I yelled. I really wish I didn’t need to go downstairs. I was trying to walk downstairs calmly and slowly because I am a HUGE cults but before I was even down the first steps I was pushed down. When I got up finally I had a splitting headache and I couldn’t get that far because when I did I was slammed up against the wall and held there with his hand around my neck holding with a death grip.
    “Where’s my food, Bitch? It’s supposed to be on the table before I get home. I thought that was our deal Isabella. Don’t forget EVER forget that is the ONLY reason why you’re still living in this house and not on the streets.” He said. I wasn’t trying to show him emotion or pain because he lives off the pain of others, and I do not want to be that person.
    “I’m sorry Char-dad. I fell asleep and I didn’t mean too. It won’t happen again I promise. I can make dinner right now if you want me to” I said. Hiding all fear and sacredness in my voice and covering it with a confident and strong voice which is not how I feel at all.
    “Just cook my food then get out of my face. Isabella you are a selfish whore and next time this happens I won’t be as nice about your punishment and consequent as I was this time.” He said. Then his foot came in contact with my ribs one last time before he walked away muttering words I didn’t bother figuring out.
    After a few seconds I got up off the ground and started getting anything and everything out of the cupboards. All I found was eggs, mike, and pancake mix. I guess that what were having and if he has a problem then well I’m just going to get yet again a another beating or something a lot worse.
    I was about half way down when I noticed someone was watching me. When I turned around a beer bottle was being thrown at my head but I ducted. I’m getting so sick of his crap. I was about to grab something and throw it at him when I felt hands go up and down my waist and kiss my neck up and down. I started to panic. How many drinks have he had? I didn’t know what to do so I took the hot pan full of hot grease and smacked him with it and ran.
    I’ve never undermined Charlie before. Where do I go? Where am I supposed to live? Why the hell did I just do that to my own father? What the hell was I thinking? I don’t know but I had this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach and I’ve never felt this way before. I felt like the 19 years of guilt, stress, sacredness, and lastly the loss of hope was gone from my mind, heart and every once emotion that has passed scene my mother has passed was off my shoulders. I can feel the freedom of my father’s way of loving me and the way he makes home feel like I already live on the streets.    
“Isabella Sawn, get you scrawny butt in this house this instant. If you don’t get in here I will personally bring you in this house and you will not enjoy what you have waiting for you. So if I were you I would think twice before you make your decision.” Charlie said. Great there goes my freedom. Should I go back? Should I get in my car and leave?
    “Charlie, go to hell.” With that I ran to my car and I got in as fast as I could. I saw Charlie running out of the house with pure rage and looking ready to about anything to get me back in that house died or alive. I pulled out of the drive way and sped as fast as I could out of sight with my new Maclaren F1 GT that I spent all my saved money from my 6 jobs on. The only thing I could hear was Charlie yelling and screaming for me to come back which I’m not.
    I don’t know where I’m going to go and I don’t know where life is going to take me but I know deep down that if I had the courage to leave Charlie and stand up to my abusive physically and mentally father then I can accomplish anything that if I put my heart and mind together.
    “By the way, Isabella Swan, Happy 20th Birthday to you.” I said to myself and with that I put myself on highway 101 and headed for my new life as an independent woman.