I am Bella
I entered the world falling. Always falling. From a young age I fell. Mentally, spiritually and physically. Now 5 months on, I'm speaking out. Coming out of the shadows, which is hard because I usually blend in with then. Where do I begin? The start would be a good idea, but I don't know if I can start without collapsing into a puddle of tears and shallow breathing. So instead, I'm jumping to the middle.
I am Bella.
The night was dark and troubling. Rain was pounding down as I huddled closer to my mother, seeking the warmth that had long left her body. Her limbs were stiff and she made no noise. I got up and padded my way to her head, rain soaking through my defenses and chilling me to the bone. I looked down at her. Her eyes stared blankly ahead. She was still and quiet. Dead. I looked around me, desperately searching for a solution. I was hungry. I was cold and I was alone.
I could feel the darkness waiting patiently. Waiting for the right moment to take me kicking and screaming. I sat down, the cold grass sharpening the effects of my already broken heart. Light appeared out of nowhere and stumbled towards me. All I could do was sit, next to my dead mother and stare as the light chased away the darkness and took care of the demons. I heard a voice. Her voice. Saying my name over and over again. I looked past the light and into her blue eyes. I saw sadness. I saw strength. I saw courage and I saw understanding. I let myself be caught. She held me while they dragged my mother's body away. She held me with tears streaming down her face, leaving behind the remains of smudged mascara and bitterness. She held me.
I am Bella
As time passed she took care of me. In the fractured light of dawn during the cruelest of winters, she got up. Got dressed. And fed me. Wiping away pounds of sleep as she did. Her blue eyes piercing into to mine as she struggled to stay awake. I might not have a mother. But I have her. I have her proud smile. Her blue eyes. Her blonde hair and her love for me.
I entered the world falling. We are always falling. From a young age I fell. Mentally, spiritually and physically. Now 5 months on. I'm finally out of the shadows, which was hard because leading a life of darkness is easier than letting yourself fall into a guiding light.
Where do I end? The end would be a good idea, but my story is far from over. There is more to life than the way it begins. Or how it ends. I don't know if my life is going to be perfect. As long as I have her, my life doesn't have to be perfect. It just has to be beautiful.
I am Bella.
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Falling
Short StoryShort story about living alone. But waking up one day to find that some cares for you