Letters to Isabella

seventeen.

Isabella's POV

My eyelids fluttered slowly. The warmth of the October morning sun flooded through my curtains and the sweet scent of Autumn had finally arrived. I inhaled gently and carefully opened up my eyes, exposing them to the bright sunlight ahead of me. I sat up slowly and sighed in happiness. "So beautiful." I whispered under my breath. With a stretch, I urged myself out of my small bed and tip toed to my bedroom door. I pressed my ear tightly against it and listened for any muffled conversations, particularly between mom and dad. Once the coast was clear, I quietly opened my bedroom door and headed to the bathroom, still on my tip toes and looking all around for any of my family members.

I entered the bathroom and locked the door behind me, slumping up against it with an exhale of defeat. I could finally breathe.

It was my twelfth birthday and of course I was more than excited about it. I'd waited in anticipation for this day since my eleventh birthday had ended but now that it had finally come I was feeling slightly apprehensive about it.

Part of me really didn't want the fuss of a huge, extravagant birthday party which I knew my parents would surely throw for me and the other part of me selfishly kind of did.

Besides, it was a way to get all of our family together, right? It would give everyone a chance to catch up and wrap each other up in endless amounts of hugs and kisses.

I gazed at myself in the mirror, standing on the tip of my toes to see myself properly. I was still pretty short, but hey, I had plenty of time to grow.

I'm not sure why but I expected to wake up a different person with a whole different look. I thought physically I'd be taller, maybe my hair would be slightly darker, maybe I'd even become pretty — but, there was no such luck.

I still looked like same old me. The only difference was that now I was officially twelve years old and in a year's time I'd be on my way into my teenage years. Now that was a scary thought.

The bathroom door handle began to rattle and I almost jumped out of my skin. "I'm in here!" I exclaimed, throwing my dark blonde hair up into a messy ponytail.

"Bella?" Dad's voice came.

"Yeah..." I nervously replied.

Here we go.

Here come the happy birthday's.

"Oh my gosh baby girl!" He whispered enthusiastically. "Happy birthday!"

I clicked my tongue and kept my hand pressed firmly against the bathroom door. "Thanks dad."

"I can't believe my little girl is twelve years old." He sighed dramatically. He tapped lightly on the door and his footsteps began to retreat away down our creaky old staircase.

I turned the faucet on inside of the shower and stepped in, feeling the warmth of the water as it dropped onto my skin.

I figured that once I'd had a shower and freshened up I'd head back into my bedroom to look over mom's secret pregnancy notes again. I hadn't learnt hardly as much as I'd expected to. I wanted to know more about my family, my heritage — even my Italian roots.

I knew that there was more to my family than what meets the naked eye, much more. There were secrets, lies and drama. I wasn't going to harass anyone for the truth but luckily it was all in my bedroom sealed with a single lock that I'd managed to open with a rusty old bobby pin.