-So, this is a two-shot story that's idea popped into my head a few days ago. It's not fluff, and most certainly not sunshine and rainbows. It's pure Angst. The subject matter of the story is rough and just so you guys know—it's NOT a HEA. I repeat, this two-shot story is NOT a HEA.

-I've decided to step out from my comfort zone with this story. I can read and write a jack-ass Edward who's basically a dick but with time redeems himself and pays his dues. I however can't read or write about an abusive Edward (though I may read to see how things go and if he's just doing it for kicks, I'm out the door). This two-shot story is my FIRST and ONLY try writing an abusive Edward.

-Hope you guys tell me what you think of it :-)

-WARNING: This two-shot story deals with subject matter. There will be mentioning of abuse, depression, and suicide. Also, there will be major character death. If it's a trigger, or not your cup of tea—please DON'T read.

-You can find my stories, this one included on my blog: sarahrosefics . blogspot Remove Brackets

Too Little, Too Late

Not Worth It

Summary:"It's been years—since high school I've become his slave. I did as I was told, I acted as a proper woman should, and I never talked back; but there's only so much I can take and I've taken enough. I've simply had enough. It's just not worth it." ExB. MA. Abuse.

BPOV

I stared at myself into the mirror—my eyes dull, circled with dark purple bruises from lack of sleep. My hair chopped off after going on a rampage with a pair of scissors to my dead hair. It was already falling from the stress reducing it to half of its original thickness. Depression making me loose weight, almost becoming skin on bones.

Didn't stop him from pelting my ass and back though.

You see, I'm married to a man named Edward Cullen—whom I was promised to by my uncle the moment I graduated high school. I can't deny the pull I felt toward Edward—with his handsome face, strong persona that demanded respect, or the fact that had a beautiful singing voice. I was attracted to him, and I actually saw him as a refuge from my uncle's abusive hand.

With time—I've fallen in love with him.

Little did I know that I'd be moving from an abusive hand to another.

Edward was the kind of man you'd call a monster with a pretty face. He'd use his charm, seduction, even love to get what he wants—and he wanted me.

It started senior year when I wanted to spend some time with my then best-friend Alice. Edward has been away to stay with his grandfather for a week and strangely every time he came back he was possessed with anger, fury, and hatred. I somewhat knew that things were rocky concerning his grandfather. Esme, his mother cut all ties with her father for reasons unknown to me and it always brought up a fight between her and Edward whenever he went to visit his grandfather.

So, the day Edward returned from New York I had already made plans to spend the whole day with Alice at her house and maybe go to the movies. Edward wanted to see me that day, for me to spend it with him in his house. I refused, telling him of my previously composed plans.

That's when he hit me for the first time.

It was a slap across the face; the slap was so hard it knocked me down on the floor. I stared up at him in shock, watching as he roughly gripped his hair and started walking back and forth—mumbling to himself about respect, love, obedience, and domination.

After minutes of me sitting on the ground holding my cheek with teary eyes and him pacing back and forth, he suddenly stopped, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then glared down at me.

"You'll do as I say, when I say it, and how I say it—understand? It's obvious I've been lenient on you; I've been way too easy with you. It stops now."

That's when I knew—I'd be an abused woman for the rest of my life.

After that day, I simply shut down. I stopped taking Alice's calls, stopped going out on my own, just stopped living. I merely existed. I was married to Edward the moment I turned eighteen; he didn't even wait until I graduated. His parents Carlisle and Esme were against us marrying at such young age of course but he must have said or done something to have them agreeing. On the wedding day, his grandfather made an appearance. Esme refused to acknowledge him, yelling at Edward for inviting him. Edward yelled back that it's his wedding day and his whole family must be present.

The moment I saw Marcus Platt I knew from where Edward got his abusive and cruel side.

It was written all over his grandfather's face—the hard eyes, the cruel sneer, and the condescending tone toward women.

He was the mentor, and Edward was the student.

So, I moved from my uncle's abusive house to my abusive husband's house. After the slapping incident, Edward never struck my face. Whenever I disobeyed or accidentally talked back, Edward would grab me by my hand, drag me down to the basement and would use his belt or a stick on my ass and back. Not to mention the crushing words of degradation. Always reminding me what a weakling I was, how I'd never stand up to myself, how I'd always be his, how I'd never escape him.

After giving me my punishment, he'd revert into a sobbing little boy—crying his heart out at my feet, apologizing for hurting me, for beating me; for letting his demons take over him, possess him, control him. Every single time.

Then he would carry me to our room, and tend to me as a lover tends to his beloved.

Sometimes I thought he was bi-polar, or even having a case of multiple personality disorder. He was hot and cold at the same time, it was maddening.

He was my angel whenever I obeyed—and then he was my demon when I misbehaved.

He was my prison.

And now, after years in said prison, I've decided to escape.

I sighed, my hand clutching the tool as I walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. I went to my desk, sat down, pulled out a paper and pen, and then started writing.

Edward,

I was torn between writing you a letter or not. I could have left you without a note, leaving you to wonder about the reason I did what I'm about to do—but then again you already know the reason. So, I've decided to pour my heart out in my letter.

When I first met you—I thought you were my savior, my protector, my salvation; only to discover that you are my destruction, my undoing, my end. I thought you would save me from my uncle's abusive clutches, that you'd snatch me away from my torment, my agony, my suffering. I awoke to the dark truth of your monstrosity. That you were much worse than Phil ever was. At least he never loved me, never cared form me; I was merely a means for wealth—to bring him good money by marrying you.

You, however—love me. What kills me is that you love me. However, you let your demons control you, let them feed off of the light inside of you and turning it into pitch black darkness. You let your demons destroy what little goodness you had left.

And with it, you destroyed me. You have ruined me, Edward. You have ruined us.

With every pelt, every time of taking away my right of choice, of speaking up my mind, of freedom—you've stripped away layer upon layer of my soul.

You have rendered me lifeless.

With your threats of not having anyone but you, of not having enough money at my disposal to escape you, of literally giving me a daily allowance as if I were a child—fearful of my leaving.

I was your fucking prisoner Edward, and you were my warden.

So, as I write you this letter—it's my way of saying goodbye. Goodbye to what could have been the best love of our lives, goodbye to the torment I've suffered at your hands.

Goodbye to your dimmed light. To your tainted goodness.

Bella.

I finished the letter, folding the paper in half and writing To Edward on the front, leaving it on my desk knowing he'd find it as he always checked my things first thing after coming back home from work, always saying he was making sure I wasn't doing something wrong.

I went back to the bathroom, the tool clutched in my hand as I went straight to the bathtub. Taking off my robe leaving me in my black nightgown, I climbed into the empty tub, laying back and sitting a few moments in silence.

Taking deep breaths, I lifted the blade up, holding the sharp steel to my wrists and in a swift move cut off my wrists. Crimson liquid poured out from my veins as I kept cutting deeper and in a more jagged way, not wanting there to be any way of healing them.

I wanted them cut beyond reason.

I wanted my death to be absolute.

As I lay there, my blood coming out of me in a pour—my life flashed before my eyes.

My parents' death.

I could hear keys jiggling in a key chain.

Uncle Phil becoming my guardian.

The front door unlocking and then closing.

The first punch from Phil.

"Bella." Edward called out my name.

The many punched and beatings later on by Phil.

"Bella, where are you." Edward calling out my name louder.

The first time I saw Edward.

"I won't ask again. Where are you?" Edward's now panicked voice echoed through the house.

Mine and Edward's first kiss.

I could hear rustles in the bedroom—no doubt Edward finding my letter.

Edward slapping me.

"Shit. Bella, fucking answer me." A scared edge to Edward's voice could be heard.

Edward becoming my new abuser.

I could hear the bathroom door opening.

Every single kiss, every loving touch from Edward as I obeyed him.

"BELLA! NO!" I heard Edward scream, but it was as if I was under water.

Me finally deciding I've had enough.

"Oh God, what have I done? Baby please don't go." I felt strong arms holding me, firm hands putting towels on my wrists and squeezing, no doubt trying to stop the bleeding.

"Dad, please help. I need an ambulance at my house now. Be—Bella killed herself. No, she's still breathing but it's weak. Please hury dad." He stopped talking for a moment and then yelled, "I don't have time for your scolding right now. Bella doesn't have time for it. Just—pl—please help!" his voice shook. Was he crying?

"Oh my God, what have I done? It's my fault. All my fault. I'm sorry baby. I'm so fucking sorry." Edward was rocking me, back and forth. Back and forth.

I could feel my soul leaving me, my body tightening and then releasing and then—

There was nothing.

It was like an out of body experience. I was floating in the air, looking down at what was happening. I watched as the EMT's busted through the bathroom door, with Carlisle on their heels. I watched as Edward kept shaking me, screaming my name over and over again—telling me not to die. "Don't you dare fucking die on me, Bella. I'll be good, I fucking promise you. I'll make it all up to you. Just don't leave me." He screamed.

Carlisle pulled him away, restraining him as the paramedics did their job. After what felt like an era, they announced me dead. I stared at my lifeless corpse, a small smile on my dead lips as if it knew I'd be free.

Edward screamed again, falling to his knees and sobbing at my dead body. Carlisle had tears streaming down his face as he spoke on his cell-phone, no doubt telling Esme and the others of what happened.

But it didn't matter.

I was free.

I was finally free.

I floated up, out of the house and up to the sky. Watching as a white light beaconed for me to approach it. A grin broke across my face when I saw my parents smiling at me.

"We're finally together sweetheart. You're finally here with us. Forever." My mother cooed.

"Nothing and no one would ever separate us again Belly." My dad grinned, using his pet name for me.

I went to my parents' embrace and together, we floated above.

…to heaven.

*Sniff. Sniff* Love it? Hate it? Undecided? Let me know.

Chapter 2 will be up in 2 days. It will be EPOV and will explain his past.