"This is what she had become."
=====
Cleopatra Banks' last week in the small town of New Chelsea is nothing like she would have imagined it, but nothing could have prepared her for the stinging betrayal she's faced with and suddenly the prospect of...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Dead.
Isabella is a dead girl.
Why do they call me that? Is it some sort of sign? Mom believes in signs, maybe she'd understand what all this means. I should probably ask her.
I can't exactly imagine how that conversation will go. Besides, mom is always trying to intervene in one thing or the other. I don't want to give her more opportunities.
No I won't mention anything. She's going to think I'm being bullied...well technically I am in a way, but is it bullying if you're not even sure what it is you're really being bullied for?
I get the whole thing with my weight, my six year old self can tell you stories about that. There are certain looks associated with being a little bigger than everyone else.
None of those looks include fear.
Well...unless they're scared that I'll break their bones just by looking at them but that's not the point. What reasons do people have to be scared of me? I'm not scary like Ethan.
Am I?
"Have you even heard a single thing I've said?" Mom's voice cuts through my little reverie. I look up at her to find an annoyed look on her face. She sounds whinier than usual.
I keep my mouth shut instead.
She breathes out exasperatedly.
"It doesn't matter whether you ignore me or not, you're going to participate in this pageant," she tells me, her nail stabbing a thin pile of papers.
My eyebrows furrow slowly as her words sink in then my eyes bulge out as the shock registers.
"You entered me in a pageant?" I ask in a higher voice register.
"You can thank me later, maybe with a winner's crown," she replies, beaming widely at me.
Rage begins to simmer slowly within me. How could she make such a huge decision without asking me first?
I scowl at her, feeling my blood begin to boil.
"I already entered you into the competition see," she slides over the few pages of paper across the kitchen counter. Everything is all filled out in her neat cursive handwriting.
"I'm not participating in a beauty pageant," I slide the papers back to her.
"But you have to I already told Susan you'd enter and this will give you an opportunity to make friends, come on Cleo," she replies.
"You didn't even ask me mom," I retort. This is why I can't tell my mom anything! She's always trying to intervene!
"I don't like seeing you this way, you're not even talking to Lexi as frequently anymore. The two of you are now on completely different schedules nearly on opposite sides of the country. She has all her friends that side and you have none this side. You can't rely on a piece of technology to keep you connected all the time, you need physical friends," she informs me.
