Bella (The Wanted Child))

Inner Thoughts and Powers

Bella sat alone in her room, the quiet stillness around her broken only by the soft hum of her thoughts. For as long as she could remember, people in her community had referred to her as a divine being, a title that always made her feel both proud and puzzled. Was she really that special, or had they simply seen something in her that she couldn’t fully understand? She had heard the whispers from friends, neighbours, and even strangers—stories of how good things seemed to happen when she was near. But was that really because of her?

She replayed recent events in her mind: a friend passing a difficult test, a neighbour finding unexpected joy after a long time of sorrow, a family member overcoming a struggle—all of these occurrences, people said, had coincided with her presence. She had also begun noticing strange sensations of her own: clear thoughts that felt like echoes of others' minds, and dreams so vivid they often unfolded in real life, as if her mind was reaching into some hidden corner of the future. These weren’t simply coincidences, were they? The deeper Bella thought about it, the more she wondered if there was indeed something special within her.

A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts. It was Lillian, her younger sister, peeking in with her wide, curious eyes. “Bella? Can I come in?” she asked softly.

Bella smiled and gestured for her to enter. Lillian hopped onto the bed and curled up beside her, looking up with an innocent curiosity that Bella adored. Lillian often sensed Bella’s moods and would stay by her side, just being there as if her presence alone could bring comfort. It was sweet and soothing.

“Lillian,” Bella said, brushing a strand of hair from her sister’s face, “what do you think makes someone special?”

Lillian scrunched up her nose, thinking hard. “Um… being nice? And… making people feel happy?”

Bella chuckled, nodding. “Those are good reasons. You’re pretty special then, too, aren’t you?”

Lillian giggled, shrugging. “Maybe. But everyone thinks you’re the special one. They call you… what’s the word? Divine?” She looked up at her sister with a mix of admiration and wonder. “Is that like a superhero?”

Bella’s heart warmed, and she gave her sister a gentle hug. “Something like that, maybe. It means they think I’m different in a way that’s… well, good. But it’s not easy to understand.”

Lillian’s eyes sparkled with innocence and wonder, but Bella knew she wouldn’t fully grasp the deeper questions she was asking herself. Lillian was still young, a child with a pure, open heart. This was something that required more than innocence—it needed wisdom and understanding. Bella knew she couldn’t share her fears and uncertainties with her little sister.

Later that evening, Bella sat by the window, watching the stars dot the night sky. Her thoughts wandered to her parents. She adored them and knew they would be overjoyed to hear what she was experiencing. Her mother would surely burst into praises and songs, as she always did whenever Bella shared good news. Her father, equally loving and protective, would undoubtedly tell her that she was a gift to the world, that her uniqueness was something to be cherished.

But Bella wasn’t ready for that kind of reaction. She needed someone who would listen, understand, and perhaps share in her wonder without turning it into a grand spectacle. She thought of Oscar, her older brother. He was always the steady presence in her life, the calm amid any storm. Oscar was reserved and watchful, rarely expressing his emotions openly, but Bella sensed the depth of his care for her and Lillian. He was the one who looked out for them, standing guard in his quiet way.

“Oscar would understand,” Bella whispered to herself. She bit her lip, wondering if he would keep her secret if she asked him to. He could be protective, but he was also someone she trusted deeply.

The next morning, she found Oscar sitting alone in the backyard, his attention fixed on a book. He looked up as she approached, closing the book and giving her his full attention.

“Hey, Bella,” he greeted, his voice as steady as always. “What’s on your mind?”

Bella hesitated, searching for the right words. “Oscar… have you ever thought that maybe… maybe I’m different? Like, different in a way that other people notice?”

Oscar’s brow furrowed slightly as he listened. “I think you’re unique, Bella. Everyone who knows you feels that way. Why do you ask?”

Taking a deep breath, Bella shared her thoughts with him. She spoke about her dreams that seemed to come true, the way she sometimes felt like she could sense other people’s emotions and even their unspoken words. She confessed the quiet fears she had, wondering if these were simply coincidences or if there was truly something deeper within her.

Oscar listened, his face calm, though she could see a flicker of concern in his eyes. “Bella,” he said finally, his tone thoughtful, “I don’t think it’s a matter of being different or normal. Maybe you just have something special—something not everyone can understand. And that’s okay.”

He paused, then added, “If you feel this is something big, something meaningful, I think you should explore it. But if you don’t feel ready to tell Mom and Dad, that’s fine too. They’ll always love you, no matter what.”

Bella felt a wave of relief, grateful for his understanding. “Thank you, Oscar. It just… it helps to know I’m not imagining things. I just didn’t want to worry anyone.”

Oscar smiled gently. “You’ll always have me. If anything ever feels too heavy, just remember I’m here.”

As Bella hugged her brother, she felt a renewed sense of peace. She might not have all the answers yet, but with her family by her side, she knew she could face whatever came her way. And as she looked toward the future, a quiet excitement stirred within her—a feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, her journey was only beginning.

In the days that followed, Bella continued to reflect on Oscar’s words and her growing sense of self.