The Only Exception

I couldn't get words to come out of my mouth, I couldn't even get them form. I was too distraught, distracted by the hatred that Oliver held on his bunched up, red face. His hands were in tight fists, his stance looked as painful as the memory of this look perfectly fit together with the Oliver that beat me to a bloody pulp.

He was back, the anger had over taken him. He wasn't going to turn away and try to stop himself, he was too far gone. His mind was made up, and even though I knew how stupid and insane this was for Oliver to snap back at something so unimportant, I knew he couldn't control it. I didn't think this would happen, I didn't think that this would set him off. Me being home at five o' clock shouldn't be such a crime, if any at all. But the tension that had seemed to decrease came back with such a force it could have knocked me down, if Oliver hadn't first.

"When did you get home, Dad?" I asked calmly.

"I got home late, Bray. It's now ten o' clock at night and you're late!" He stammered, he'd been drinking. I looked over at the clock on the wall, which read 5:05 pm.

"Dad, it's only five o' clock, you've got the time mixed up." I tried to lighten the mood with a suggestive smile, but that didn't pull through so well.

"You're soaking wet, Braylin." He mumbled. His hand grasped tightly onto the beer bottle in his hand. His knuckles were almost white with the struggling hold he had latched himself on.

"It's raining, Dad." I let out a yelp as I dodged the now shattered beer bottle that hit right above my head. "Dad, stop this! You were doing so great, and - why'd you go and buy this?" I pointed towards the twelve pack of beer sitting on the table.

Oliver waved me off, "I was stressed, Sweet cheeks. And besides, I was worried about you," He slurred. His big fingers pointed over at the clock above the stove. "It's ten o' clock at night, dammit!" I inched back towards the wall, wincing at his outburst.

"Dad, you've got to stop what you're doing - okay?" I was in here now, no one would be able to hear anything. All I could do was try to get him to go lay down. I usher Oliver over to the stairs, he seemed to follow along. "Alright Dad, just go upstairs and -" I let out a small yelp as I yanked my hand up to my cheek that was now tingling with a horrible burning feeling.

"Don't tell me what to do, Braylin! This is my house and I will do whatever the hell I please to do!" He'd come closer to me, closer than ever and all that I could do was back up until my backside ran in with the wall. "Why can't you behave?" He whined as he grabbed a hold of my hair in his strongest hand. I whimpered as he threw me to the ground, but he never let go.

"Dad, please!" I began. Before I could even get another word in I was kicked in the side twice as I was held by my hair. I yelped in pain and I was dragged into my feet, right before being slammed into the wall.

"You don't have the right to label me as your father anymore, Sweet cheeks," His slurred words passed my ears, I felt sick to my stomach. The alcohol lingered from his breath, "Who thought I could last maybe two weeks without drinking, am I right?" He chuckled darkly, "I knew that you felt that I'd relapse at any second of any day. You just didn't know when."

I thought that I was going to cry, bawl my eyes out and beg him to stop, as he told me this, but nothing came out. Even if I tried to spouse out tears, I'd fail so terribly I'd then begin to cry at that.

"So now, this is for the two weeks I was held up on what was supposed to be done." His sickly gruesome stare caught my attention. His glare made me even more scared than what I was already feeling. My stomach did flips, up and down, side to side as I waited for the beginning to start.

"Dad, I'm -" The sting of Oliver backhanding me against the side of my face shut me up and send me tumbling to the hard kitchen floor. I put out my hands to stop my fall, but that only resulted in the painful bending of my wrists. They weren't broken or anything of that I could feel, but the throbbing pain coursed through my hands. I crumpled to the floor and Oliver stood above me, fuming with his fists clamped shut.

"Don't say it," He stammered. Oliver had said that what he was going to give me was for the last two weeks of nothing. I thought hard about his advantages, what he could do would throw me over the edge. The things he was possible of doing send me into a small full body shake.

I'd say the bravest thing I could do was take my foot and kick him where the sun don't shine. Of course, I did do that and I watched him double over in pain and grab at himself. I struggled to my feet, this way I could finally leave. But as I began to leave the kitchen, I was yanked back by my hair. Oliver turned me around and instantly I grabbed at my face again, only this time it began to feel numb the second Oliver's large hand swiped across my face. I let out a cry in pain as I was thrown onto the ground again.

"Oliver, please!" I gasped, a very loud cry emitting from my mouth as a very sharp pain began to surf it's way through the side along my hip bone. Bruising was natural when it came to these kinds of things. I was sure to get a massive set amount later. If I survived.

The only thing that could be worse than this was dying. He could kill me if he wanted to, so easily. It wasn’t like I was strong enough to fight back. I was weak, I knew that when I tried to get Oliver away from reaching down to snatch at my wrist.. That wasn’t a good move to make. I let out a shriek of sheer agony as he yanked me across the room and into the wall. It took him time, but he did it within thirty seconds.

"I wish I didn't have to do this, Sweet cheeks." He muttered, his hands beginning to trail around my throat.

In that instant I began to feel the air leaving my mouth. I gasped for oxygen as his large hands wrung tighter around my throat. My kicking hardly did much, and my arms flailing around didn't do anything. And just when I began to fall unconscious, Oliver backed down. His large hands left my throat instantly, his eyes becoming wide with fear as he looked at me.

"Oliver," I whispered. Bad move to make, bad thing to say.

I regretted saying his name, trying to move just a few inches. His fist had instantly collided with my face, my head bouncing off the closed door. I could feel the nerves in my system go haywire as they tried to figure out how to react. Quickly, my shaking hands grabbed at the counter edge and I hoisted myself up slowly, but just in enough time to elbow Oliver in the face and make a run for anything. The closest my hands could get to before Oliver's hand could snatch around my ankle and yank me to the floor was the phone.

If only Alice could see me, I somehow thought.

My mind then regrettably went to Jacob, and I dialed his number as quickly as I could. Oliver began to drag me towards him as I impatiently waited for Jacob to pick up. On the third ring a deep husky voice answered the phone.

"Hello?" I wish I could have smiled at the sound that seemed to lighten up my mood. Too bad I only had a few seconds to explain anything.

"Jacob? It's Braylin - " I was cut off with a loud scream erupting from my mouth as Oliver yanked me up once again and shoved me against the counter. The side of my abdomen immediately began to scorch with a burning pain. A deep cut began to form as my skin dragged against the sharp corner.

"Hello? Bray - what's going on?!" I faintly heard Jacob yell into the phone. I let out a painful shriek as the hair on my head was caught in Oliver's hands, my head being yanked back with such force.

"Bray?! I'll be there -" A large hand reached for the phone, his painful grip made me let go of the phone too quickly. I flinched as it shattered against the ground.

I smiled in relief, but lost the smile rapidly as Oliver's fist - once again, led straight into my mouth. I could taste the metallic - like flavor swim around in my mouth. I could feel myself being shoved to the ground with a hard, unforgettable force. My head slammed into the side of the cabinet and onto the floor. I began to feel numb all over my body.

I couldn't cry, my eyes wouldn't allow it. Not even as Oliver raged on about how horrible and complicated I've made his life to be. I didn't flinch went his foot went near my face, only to trick me and pull back with a drunken smirk on his face. I didn't whine out in pain as Oliver shoved me with his boot, checking to see how alive I really was. I couldn't even smile when I saw Jacob Black run into the kitchen and rush over to Oliver.

I couldn't cry as I watched Jacob and Oliver get into it. Their fists flying wildly at each other, it never stopping. Their words were so muffled now as I began to find my way out of this world and hopefully into the next. But they opened again when I saw Sam and Paul rush into my kitchen and break up the fight.

I could hardly feel anything anymore, but the pain would still spike through my body, and I'd let out a scream of pain as Jacob's warm arms carefully picked me up from the cool tile floor covered in my own blood. My hearing began to fade when my eyes began to close. Even with Jacob telling me to stay awake, saying that we'd be at Carlisle's soon, I couldn't do it any longer.

But the tears finally fell when Jacob whispered into my ear, "Don't leave me."