Regrets
1335 Words
Bella hates every minute spent at the table, entertaining the mother-daughter duo. Times like this she wishes she doesn’t share a pinch of what’s running through their veins.
Their lips stretched into smiles that shouldn’t be allowed to be that wide, and their eyes.
Ugh, Gosh, she wishes she hadn’t been looking at them before. Hoods painted in the most darkest shade of black, those fake lashes looking bigger than they can see past, make Bella’s face visibly contort into a look of pure disgust.
The apple definitely doesn’t fall far from its tree. How could a daughter so perfectly complement her mother? Not in a good way, if anyone is interested.
But Mrs Marilyn wouldn’t understand, so Bella’s head droops, hiding her scowl behind a spoonful of fried rice and gravy.
How could she know? Her eyes are blind to reality, she can’t see past mere words or even behaviors. Never once had doubts about them, never once thought her own sister would have ill intentions against her.
Similar to Bella, probably a few hours ago. Until she’s realized what a cheap slimy two-faced dog Kylie is. Barking when there’s no bone, whiny when it’s too small. It’s revolting.
Spoons screeching against plates, they eat in silence, eyes glued to the meal that in front of them. Mrs Marilyn wonders why Bella is especially quiet at the table.
It’s new and it bothers her not knowing what troubles her beloved daughter. Surprising because Bella always seems eager to share her thoughts.
And Bella sees her confusion, from the reflective marble surface of their dining table. Her expression is almost sullen, fork slowly picking at the veggies in her food.
One thing she’s learned about her mother, is that whatever troubles her, she leaves to trouble her alone.
Her sadness must not be shared, it’s cowardly. But Bella always has a trick to eat her way through that wall. And it always works, without a doubt.
Glancing up from her plate, Bella’s lips part to utter her first words since the start of dinner, however..
“Kylie is hoping to bag a spot in one of those international law schools.”
..a low chirpy voice cuts her words short, leaving Bella to only purse her lips and swallow them back.
“Oh-uh, that’s great! She’ll do well”, there’s hesitance in Mrs Marilyn’s tone, like she’s unsure of how to respond.
Forcing a smile would be the best bet, because that would convey her feelings of happiness towards their good news. Or so she thinks..
The problem is, hearing Anna speak of her daughter so proudly, she didn’t know what to think of Bella.
Despite her emergence as Valedictorian, Bella had always dismissed any conversations about furthering her education.
Always replied with a curt nod, and a “not now, maybe later”. Or maybe the excuse that a customer needs water at a table at the restaurant.
Well, maybe she’s to blame too, often bringing up the issue when there’s work to do and no time to idle about. But she just couldn’t keep denying her heart’s concerns anymore.
It eats into her sleep every night, eyes wide and staring at the alarm clock by the bed, counting every tick of the minute hand.
And when morning comes, her eyes bloodshot and bags sagging under her eyes, and when Bella asks, she would echo her daughter’s flat response.
“No reason”
Following this declaration, her daughter’s shoulders square, head hangs high, lips pursed into one of the most fake pouts to ever exist.
Bella locks eyes with her and the witch’s lips curl up. And so it happens, that dinner was not the same as before the declaration.
Icy, would be the best word to describe it. You can almost feel it nipping at your bare skin.
Every once in awhile, Bella and Kylie’s eyes would lock, Bella would grit her teeth, Kylie would smile and pop a dice of carrot into her mouth.
It’s not even Kylie’s interference in her and Connor’s relationship that makes her blood boil. It’s how she hadn’t realized it earlier how fake and plastic her cousin is.
The routine goes unnoticed by both parents. And dinner passes by quickly. Bella couldn’t wait for Kylie and her mother to get the hell out. So she could lay in her bed and think of the problem at hand.
“How sweet of you to invite us to dinner. Our kids are adults now! Isn’t that great?”, Anna exclaims from the doorway in a sickly sweet voice.
Mrs Marilyn chuckles, says something about how fast kids grow. Kylie’s whine is the last thing that’s heard as her mother drags her along, followed by the sound of the door clicking shut, enveloping the house in silence.
Still seated at the table, Bella drifts away into her train of thoughts, unconsciously picking at an empty plate when her mom returns to the dining area.
She hadn’t heard her coming, didn’t even hear her mumble out her name. Doesn’t feel the light tap on her shoulder until the older woman’s hands clamp down on her, vigorously shaking her in panic.
“Why do you look so pale?”, she asks, the back of her hand pressed against her daughter’s forehead.
Eyes widened to the size of saucers, Mrs Marilyn takes a cautious step back, as if she’s not so sure of herself or her skin cells.
Cups Bella’s cheeks in her own soft palms. Cushioned on both sides, Bella’s lips purse into a pout. An annoyed one. Why is her mother prying so much into what’s not hers to worry about?
“You’re burning up!”
Bella is suddenly springing up from her seat, a hand swatting away her mom’s hand, something she’d never once dream of doing. Respect is one thing she’d never lose for her mother.
But if she stays even a moment longer, Mrs Marilyn would’ve probably caught onto her, read her without her permission. She does that much too many times.
Bella hears her mother’s concerned tone follow her up the stairs, her feet thudding along as she trudges behind her.
A prayer is said, to no one in particular, but Bella hopes to make it to her bedroom without tripping over her feet.
It’s not helping, how woozy she feels and how badly she’s willing to keep that vomit in for as long as she could.
Her headache is brutal, makes her think something might even be up there, eating its way into her brain. But it’s not her main concern.
When do the stairs end?! They appear more than before. Or maybe it’s just her impatience.
Breathing a sigh of relief when the narrow hallway comes into view, Bella bolts across it and heads straight for her bedroom.
Mrs Marilyn is equally faster, almost catching up to her if Bella had been a second late. Oh, but she doesn’t accept defeat easily. Bumps her curled up hands against the wooden door, calling, crying, worried.
A tear rolls down Bella’s cheek as she lays under her sheets, completely swallowed, arms pressed against her ears on either sides of her head.
“Bella, let me in!”, her mother wails, hands clamped down on the door handle.
Bella sobs, bawls her eyes out till she could no longer force out the salty streams. Mrs Marilyn had given up a while ago, slides down the wall and scoops her legs up to her chest.
Dried up tears, sagging shoulders are a testament of her desperation. But she’s figured out that Bella would like her time alone.
However, that doesn’t give her relief, knowing that her daughter is probably unwell behind that closed door.
“I’m sorry, mom. I didn’t mean to. But I’ll make things better”, it’s a whisper, croaked out at the last minute as she loses the battle against slumber, still clad in the dress she wore to her graduation.
- Writer
