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Delusion and Reality

Delusion and Reality

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Published by Gülhis Canpolat
One of the stories I wrote for a Twi-Fandom Contest. Though it has nothing to do with the plot of the original books. And has real blood, and gore, and murder... Though I don't think it's 'that' violent... But obviously not a love story.
One of the stories I wrote for a Twi-Fandom Contest. Though it has nothing to do with the plot of the original books. And has real blood, and gore, and murder... Though I don't think it's 'that' violent... But obviously not a love story.

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Published by: Gülhis Canpolat on Dec 26, 2011
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved

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12/26/2011

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Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or the character names,however I do own the plot.Word Count: 3204Rating: M (Probably...)Content Warning: There will be blood; however this story youwill read has nothing to do with sexuality.Summary: After a disagreement between her dad and her,Bella has had to think twice about everything she believed andrelied on to save a loved one from pains she went through. Ruthless: A Hardcore One-Shot Contest Delusion and Reality By SpiritOfCarnage She put her leather gloves on and took the sedativefrom her school bag before going into the living room whereher father was sleeping. It’s been a couple of days since thatargument between him and her in the kitchen. She alwaysknew everyone in her family, except her five-year-old brotherEmmett, had their own scars from life but she always thoughthe could understand. She thought that he could accept hiswrongs, though, she knew, it hurt. 
 
Bella knew what left her scarred, though she neverconsidered sharing it with her family before. Her mom was sosensitive and paranoid; it would destroy her to think shecouldn’t be a good mother to her child. Bella accepted herself,planned a future she can live as the person she is. She didn’twant to change a thing; she was living eventually, hadsomeone loving her with all her mental scars, had her lifearranged. It was too late to change; it would only scar hermore. But five years ago, it all changed, she knew she had tochange. She wasn’t “the one” anymore and it didn’t botherher. She had to give up so many things. She locked herself inher shell and let her parents give all their attention to hernewborn brother. He needed it, protection and affection. It washer way to show him she loved him. She even gave up herfather, her hero, her idol. She was alone in the first teenageyears. Her mother discovered that she had hypothyroidism notmuch after the birth, and the condition left her tired, obliviousand depressive. So her father needed to pay even moreattention to the baby. Emmett was growing so fast, and he was just theopposite of Bella, so lively, confident, so amazing that shealmost couldn’t see that her parents were making the exactsame mistakes they did while raising her. She was angry, solivid; couldn’t they see how it turned out? Couldn’t they seehow she was broken? How did reality leave her shocked andlost? They were always talking about how people werecheating, lying, killing; that no where was going to be likehome and no one would treat her like they did, as if she didn’tknow. So why they weren’t telling to “him”, why they wereallowing him to use them, to have everything he wanted, to doeverything he wanted to them? 
 
She never heard “no” coming out one of her parents’mouth in her own childhood either; therefore she also wasn’table to say no. How could she, little Bella didn’t know how to.She didn’t know when to. How could she “hurt” somebody’sfeelings? She’s never been hurt. It was rude to hurt people,right? So why were the other people hurting her, why didn’tthey care? Love was the most important thing, right? If youlove someone, they would love you back, and if you be good topeople, they would be good to you, too. Right? Motherfuckers. It was a fairy tale world she had at home. She would bethe shy, polite kid at school, then she would come home andpretend. Pretend that everything and everybody was great,that she really had friends, that she wasn’t hit by reality, thatshe was happy. After some time, she lost it. She wasn’t awarewhat was real and what is not. She just knew that her fatherwas a poetic and delusional man, and he was raising anotherpoetic and delusional child. She tried, she really tried to make her parents changetheir ways without really telling how fucked up she was. Theywere so perfect that it hurt. How it slapped in the middle of herface when her kindergarten teacher shouted at them whensome kids didn’t listen to her, or how it hurt that they looked ather like she was crazy when she tried to tell her “friends”about her childish fantasies. Her father always listened to her,even acted with her like they were real. She knew that theywould hurt her dear brother, too.“He knows I’m just pretending!” her father said thatnight. She could feel the frustration burning inside her. “No hedoesn’t,” she replied, her voice shaking slightly, “It will stickwith him all his life.” ‘Can’t you see?’ she wanted to shout,‘Can’t you see what it did to me? Can’t you see what they did?’

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