WARNING

this chapter  hints to sexual assault. If this makes you uncomftorble, then please feel free to skip Bella's part except for the section that isn't italicized 

Ben

I was about to put the tape in the DVR, until a faint knocking ran through the house, hinting that someone was at the front door. I slowly sat up, my legs slightly sore from sitting down for so long.

I set the tape on the floor right beside the pulled out floorboard, and headed out into the small hallway.

The floor sang a song of creaks as I walked across it, and I almost slipped from shuffling my feet with socks on. I put my hand on the brass know of the door and opened it up, the light from outside blurring my vision since the shutters in the room where closed, making everything dark.

I was happy to see a blur of blue, and it finally cleared into the two braided buns Bella usually had on her head although when I looked down more, I could see her expression; Something was really wrong.

"Bella," I began, and I could see the red in her eyes. "What's wrong? Here, come inside..."

I stepped to the side of the doorway to let her pass, and she stumbled through, almost tripping inside.

She immediately wrapped her arms around me. Even though she was two years older than me, I was taller than her by barely two inches. I leaned down to hug her back and could smell faint smoke.

"Bella, please tell me you didn't-" I began, planning to ask about her smoking, but she quickly cut me off.

"Can I please stay here? Just for a night or some shit. You have a spare bedroom, right?"

I honestly couldn't say no to her. There were an unbelievable amount of times I asked to stay at her house cause of my father having four-year-old tantrums.

I simply nodded my head, and she smiled or what seemed like a millisecond before sitting down on the couch. She kept her hands on her lap and looked around for the first time. the house was still gross since we hadn't dusted or cleaned anything since we moved in a few days ago.

"Hey, I found a box of tapes under the floorboards and-"

"Well, that's fucking creepy."

I paused a bit and chuckled before continuing, "-and I figured we could watch one. They might be old black and white horror movies with terrible camera angles" I claimed, trying my best to make her feel better.

She looked up at me before looking back down at her hands and nodded slowly.

"Yeah, ok..."

She put her hands on both of her sides and pushed herself off the couch, standing next to me, and I guided her to the art room.

She seemed fascinated by everything like I was, but as I leaned down to grab the tape, my hand ended up on a cold wooden floor.

What the hell?

The tape was gone, and when I looked towards the cardboard box, I realized a few others were missing too.

That's strange...

"So, where is this so-called tape of yours?" She asked, but I stood up straight and gave her a lie for a response.

"Sorry, I guess I must have misplaced it..."

I shouldn't worry her, Shell freak out if I say they suddenly disappeared. She's super into spiritual, paranormal things and she seems like she had a lot on her plate. I'll just look for them after she goes to bed.

"Hey," I started, walking back over to her as she examined the record player behind the door. "Why don't I go to show you your room?"

She nodded her head again, which was enough for me to open up the art door again and leaving my hand on its knob as she scanned over the paintings once again, then leaving.

Across from the art room was my room, which was the only room downstairs. I led her up the stairs, which started in the kitchen and had a handrail that I didn't dare to touch since he had splinters and nails sticking out in all of its places.

At the top of the stairs, another wended sat, showing the field behind the old house, revealing a few small houses around it, which also looked old and worn out.

Right across from the stairs where my parent's bedroom, which was most likely cold and empty, considering they were out at dinner. We continued around the corner to another door at the end of the hall, which would be her bedroom, and a small bathroom attached to it.

I let her lead in front of me once we got to the door, and she put her hand on the knob, turning it slowly before peering inside.

The room had pastel yellow walls, with a simple white bed with pink covers. Bella smiled as she walked around, admiring the small stuffed animals that were on shelves. It seemed like it was made for a little girl.

It definitely reminded me of what Bella was like, as a young girl. That was all before she got her job, and met...

"I love it, you have to promise that you'll never change this room", she claimed.

I promised.

***
Bella

I walked out the back door, holding the brown jacket tightly close to me. The cold air sent chills up my spine and numbed my fingers, and I walked over quickly to Nolan and his girlfriend.

"Do you have the money?", he asked.

I nodded and reached into the jacket pocket to pull out wadded up twenty. I was seventeen at the time and had a horrible cigarette addiction. Nolan said he would help me get some until I turned eighteen.

I handed it to him, then continued to hold my jacket. I glanced over at his girlfriend, who was some blonde with a model body.

What a fucking stereotype, I thought.

"You know, you have some nerve. Didn't anyone teach you to not do shit like this?" He smirked, and I just kept my head lower.

Before I knew it, two older guys, around 25 probably, came out of the car. I could tell they were some of Nolan's friends.

One of them seemed angry as he looked at the twenty, and then claimed it was bullshit I gave them such little money when I knew cigarettes didn't cost half that here.

Nolan then nodded at me. "How much more you got?"

I started to get really nervous. "T-that's all I have right now-", and soon his other friend had cut me off.

"We should teach her a lesson", he said, and Nolan didn't seem like he could care any less.

The most I could remember was them ripping off my clothes, until I could feel the wind against my bare skin, and continued to take photos of me, their phones flashing.

Then they left me there, in the cold.

The next day, my senior year in high school, the kids walked around, claiming that I was one of the sluts, that I went out trying to get cheap sex in exchange for drugs.

I walked over to the sink in the bathroom, to splash water on my face, and try to remove the permanent memory.

One of the sluts, like all the other girls.

Just like everyone else.

"No, I'm not..."

I looked up at the mirror that took up about half of the bathroom wall, and words had been chipped away into the glass. t was messy, but still clear: FEELING A BIT COLD?

I couldn't think at all, so I put my fist through it, my knuckles bleeding from the glass shattering across my hand and onto the floor.