The Ten // The Umbrella Academy

We Hardly Even See Each Other at Funerals

A cold, dismal room, with a punching bag in the corner. A collection of guns sat on a table to the left of the bed. The constant ticking of the clock hung on the wall drilled its way into her head, played on loop.

Just like she did every day, Isabella Hargreeves started her morning with a workout. She hit the treadmill at a dead run, barely giving herself time to catch her breath.

She drank water out of the only bottle her father had given her. She had hardly any possessions and learned to let go of being 'sentimental.'

She would read and learn, just like she did every day, from the bookcase near her bed. She would study things from theories of the universe to the travel of space and time to species of animals.

Dear old Reggie always told her the brain could be more powerful than the body.

Every day, she was delivered food to her chamber on the lowest floor of the house, through the slot on the door. Her father would come alone, bringing leftovers from dinner and more lectures to replay in her head while secluded.

If she hadn't studied enough to count time efficiently, she would've lost track of the days that passed.

And she used to, at the young age she was locked into the metal prison in which she was still entrapped.

But today was different, and she could feel it too. Something was off, and she didn't like it.

Then there was a pound on the only door in the room. It was unfamiliar, as Reginald always had a pattern he followed when knocking.

She pulled the knife out of her boot and threw a gun in the holster on her side.

Not that she would need it.

"Bella? Are you in there?" A booming voice, one she barely recognized, but the sound of fake authority caught her ears.

"Luther?" she asked in surprise, slowly pulling the door open after he unlocked it. "What the hell are you doing here?" She looked him up and down, noticing his size. "And how many protein shakes have you had?"

After looking at me with a shocked expression, confused at something, Luther rolled his eyes. "You were never that big on small talk, so I'm just going to cut right to the chase," he started. "Dad is dead."

Bella's heart jumped in excitement. "You mean the old bastard finally kicked the bucket?" she said laughing. "I was waiting for this day." She paused, then said, "Does that mean you're going to move so I can get out of this shithole?"

***

Before she knew it, Bella was upstairs. For the first time in seventeen years.

"So? How's it feel?" She glared up at the ape, pissed off at his question. It's not so much what he said, more like what it stood for.

"Listen, asshole, just because we're all uniting to celebrate dear old Pop's death, mind you, doesn't mean we're friends. You never asked about me or visited me down there when I was trapped, even when Dad allowed it. So don't talk to me like all of a sudden we're siblings now, because you've got a long way to go." She walked off, heading to a room she hasn't been in for a long time.

Once there, something caught her eye on the book shelf against the wall. A child toy.

She held the toy on the shelf in her hand, staring at it intently. It was worn, and there were holes in it here and there, showing how loved it had been. Bella knew he always loved the stuffed bear. He would take it with him wherever he went.