Bella sat on the stool behind the keyboard. Her chest tightened. Bella still felt the burn of tears in her eyes, causing her sight to blur as her shoulders trembled.
Bella allowed her long fingers to slide over the cool keys, her dark hand causing them to bump and clink producing a flurry of notes that carried through the empty, silent air. She swallowed again before she reached up to the necklace, the golden semicircle smooth underneath her palm. She fought another shudder before she lowered her hand
Note after note she played, her hands dancing along the keys like her father's hands would. With shaky vision and quivering lips, she allowed her feelings to ride along with the sad tune. Moisture began to seep from the corner of her eyes as she could almost feel her father sitting right beside her, with one hand wrapped around her small waist like when she was nine and his other hand running along the keys. She could almost feel the vibrations that coursed through his chest as he sang, his deep voice able to grab the attention of anyone in the vicinity. She remembered how he would gesture for her to also try, him leading her then tiny hands through the keys as he continued to hum the song.
Her heart squeezed in her chest. Bella hadn't felt her father's touch in years. She longed for it, the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers over her own, firm yet gentle, rough yet delicate. By now the waterworks had increased, her hands no longer able to keep track with the song as she missed keys. Her vision blurred, streaks of blue punctuating it. Soon, she pressed her head to the keyboard, the resulting sounds of a mix of keys held down together creating a jarring note that Bella barely noticed over her sobs.
Her throat dried. Memories began to seep through, her mind now carried away from the realm of the physical as she was drawn into them.
"Bells, don't cry." Her father whispered, pulling her to his chest as she broke into a fit of sobs. Snot drizzled down her face, her tears being the only sign of the fury and pain that coursed through every single fibre of her being. The smell of burnt oranges flew through her nose as she fingered his shirt, the ebb of pain slowly losing its hold on her. After her sniffles had reduced to silence, her father finally drew back in concern.
Light from the window behind them highlighted his dark brown eyes, making them sparkle with love and concern. He swept a stray tear from her cheek.
"What happened, Bells?"
Bella swallowed, tears still glistening in her eyes before she spoke,
"Candace and her friends," saying their names alone made her lips quiver, her throat bobbing up and down with the motion. "During lunch... they came to me and began to call me names; ugly, disgusting, even when I didn't do anything wrong. They said I was the blue eyed freak that everyone hated." With every word she spoke, her breathing shallowed, reliving the tale. Reminiscing on the snarls that curled their lips, the venom that dripped from each heated word before they poured her food all over her. The stew stained shirt which was hidden by her blazer still stuck to her back, a testament to their cruelty. The humiliation still made her shoulders droop even more than they already were.
Her father only sighed which made her lift her glossy eyes to him. "This has jealousy written all over it."
"Jealousy?"
"Jealousy can make people act in very..... extreme ways."
Bella chewed on her lip. "But why? They have nothing to be jealous about." She sniffled again.
Her father raised a brow. Her looks, of course. Bella could never understand the hype about her looks. She could never see what people who stopped her and her parents saw in her. Yes, she knew, it was uncommon to see a dark girl with bright blue eyes but she still didn't see any reason for the unnecessary attention. Especially, the unnecessary hate.
Her father placed her on the couch before kneeling before her, letting his gaze be leveled with hers. "Tell me one good thing about yourself?"
Bella didn't have to bat an eyelid. " My looks." She didn't know whether she believed it or not but she knew others did. From the discrete glances to unfiltered compliments all around, it was written in stone.
"So, anything else?"
Bella looked at him and mulled, trying to gauge her thoughts. After what felt like eternity, she shook her head, having no answer to give to that. Her father shook his head, his lips pulling into a smile.
"There's much more to you than your looks, Bells. That you're stunning doesn't mean you're empty."
"Nobody else thinks that."
Her father shook his head thoughtfully. "Then prove them wrong. Besides, you still haven't convinced me why I should switch out my home cooking for takeouts."
Bella's face scrunched up in disgust, remembering the vile thing her father had conjured up that fateful day. She shuddered, momentarily forgetting her earlier ordeal. "Please don't. I don't think I'll survive another food poisoning."
Her father gasped, hands on his chest as he leaned away from her. "Poisoning? It's not that bad."
Bella giggled. "It is, even Uncle Jack couldn't bear to take a second look at it."
"I didn't think you despised your old man that much."
"Not you. Just your food." Bella snickered at the face he made, holding her laugh in as he gave her a feigned glare before shaking his head in amusement.
Bella jolted out of the memory. Her throat tightened before her hands curled into fists. That same longing smothered her, the longing for her goofy father that could make her laugh, that could do the worst things at the worst times. Her mother was the very reason why she hadn't contacted nor seen him in years.
The rage against her mother almost splintered her innards, tearing away at her as she once again realized how differently things could have turned out. If her father had won custody of her and her brother, she wouldn't have had to stay with her mother, maybe then her life would have turned out better than this. More peaceful, less controlled, more loved. Bella's phone vibrated, her mother's call once again causing it to shudder where it lay on the keyboard.
Her breathing seized in her lungs as she gritted her teeth. With a heave, she leapt from the chair before grabbing the phone and hurling it at the nearest wall. A dim bang ricocheted through the silence, the smash of glass and subsequent thump of its fall somewhat lessening the pounding in her ears. Even though it had been over three days since she had seen her mother and also heard the news, the anger was still as fresh as a newly lighted flame. The comment section had been making her go nuts, all sorts of insults and the many statements in favor of Blake that made her feel like gouging her eyes out.
The fact that her mother was still unable to see that she had come of age to make her own decisions, willing to go behind her back to not only make such an announcement but still act like what she did was right, was infuriating to say the least. But it shouldn't have surprised her, she inhaled again, this was her mother. The one that manipulated things over and over again, making sure what she wanted was what she got despite Bella's own say in the matter. The one that could somehow toy with her relationships and still make it seem like she wasn't at fault.
The thought of it all sent a greasy feeling down her throat. Her mother was the one that had separated her from her father, not only that, but the peaceful life she had lived all so that she could make money off her. Her blood boiled and she found it hard to control the trembling that ran down the length of her body.
Still, she couldn't help the bitter sweet feeling that rose within her, despite how she felt about it initially she still enjoyed the fruits of her mother's actions; the fame, the adoration, wealth. She knew that at some point, it had clouded her mind, making her forget all about her dad. Even though, yes, sometimes she still wanted to meet him but part of it thawed when she fully began to reap from the world her mother had forced her into.
She looked at a mirror, a line of mirrors actually that filled the wall facing her. Her reflection stared back at her. As beautiful as ever.
"She's nothing but a pretty face, I wonder why she's so proud at times."
The bitterness filled her mouth. It was something that made her have both a love -hate relationship with her looks. Her dark face was without a speckle or a dot, as smooth as chocolate, her defined cat like blue eyes glinted underneath the white fluorescent lighting. She smiled weakly revealing pearly whites that could make heads turn. In a flash, her father's singed body shuddered in her line of sight, coming back to hunt her as it had for two nights in a row. The gruesomeness of the flames made her back prickle with goosebumps, the grotesque nature of his body still causing her to shiver.
Who would have done that to her own father? The man that could make her smile with his horrible jokes and encouraging words. The one that played with her while her brother brooded in a corner and her mother was too busy scheming and getting beauty products. Her father had shielded her from her mother's manipulative antics, making sure her opinion was always heard and her voice mattered. She exhaled, tears glossing over her eyes once again.
Bella felt a headache pound against her skull, reminding her of how drained she was. She whirled before walking towards the large queen sized bed that took up the centre of her hotel room, a white bedsheet covering the large soft mattress with a cluster of pillows at the head of the bed.
Her eyes slinked through her surroundings. This was what her riches got her, this hotel room that had golden faucets and a Jacuzzi, large sliding doors that opened up to an expansive balcony, a walk in wardrobe and marble floors that felt cold despite the heat outside. But even then, she felt the loneliness swarm her like it always had, causing her chest to tighten and her eyes to sting. Despite the fans she must have had and the looks that should have gotten her everything, she still felt that numbness creep into her system.
The thought of her father made her lips curl again. The acrid taste in her mouth only spiked as she remembered the ashy scent that swirled in the room. She remembered the smoke that lay above him, like a roasted duck that had been caught before it was set ablaze. The red raw skin that traced his blackened limbs. His thick hair that she loved to run her hands through had been reduced to only tiny patches of thinned obviously burnt hair strands that had a gnarled appearance to them. The top of his head sported similar red raw skin and blackened flesh squeezed together, as if fighting for dominance.
The images of all that sent the same shudders from her core. She had come to seek refuge once and for all from her mother, thinking that everything would be fine, just exactly as they were before they left. Blood pounded in her ears, her breath fleeing her chest muscles that locked, making breathing suddenly hard. She almost wished that she hadn't known about this, almost wished that she hadn't returned at all maybe then she wouldn't know that her father had died, especially in one of the worst ways possible.
She didn't like the resulting prickles that came afterwards. The familiarity that filled her core at the mention of death by fire. A face came to mind, someone that filled every part of her with a pulsating sadness. Penelope. Light brown eyes, light skin with frizzy brown hair that was so hard to comb. Someone that reminded her of her father with her light hearted nature and her permanent smile. Someone that her mother had disapproved of since she had no social standing, someone that she had decided to continue hanging out with in her rebellious stage. The only person that she truly grew to enjoy her presence after her parents' divorce.
Bella could remember every single piece of it. How she had sneaked into her house that fateful night, they were talking and laughing when they heard a loud crash. She remembered the screams that pierced the once quiet house. The area that Penelope had lived in was rougher than most, theft and break ins were a normal occurrence but never murder. They had tried to hide but the assailant had gotten to their room before tackling them both to the floor. Bella remembered how he had talked about kidnapping her for ransom before sweeping her off the floor. Penelope had tried to help her but he kicked her down before lighting a match. Her throat went hoarse from the memory, remembering herself wriggling in his hands before he locked the door.
She remembered how she had cried, trembling all over. She has seen Penelope's mother's body, a kind soul, sprawled on the floor with blood pouring from a gash across her neck as her tanned skin was pasty. The man had walked out the door as the smoke began to worsen, the heat on her skin very palpable. The man was about to throw her into the boot with things that he had stolen when the police had arrived.
That night, after being released from the police station she remembered the way she sobbed into her mother's chest. She had seen her friends body, charred beyond comprehension. Her thin lips that were usually curled into smiles had been reduced to a gaping hole twisted into a soundless scream, a chasm that she could never seem to draw herself out of. She shuddered.
Her mother had been there, tending to her every step of the way. In her grief, she had left everything to her mother, unable to think for herself as she was surrounded by the smell of death. Resolution shook her down to the core. Then, she neither had the authority nor the power to do anything about it, or anything else after that. She knew that if her mother found out about this too, she would find a way to coax her to not do anything about it, that's what she did then too.
But now, she wasn't going to rest until she got whoever it was that did this. And that person would pay very dearly for it.