Call Me Bella
My name is
Isabella, but for the sake of the story just call me
Bella.
I’ll be your narrator today. The story will be told
in First Person, and for privacy reasons the main character will
be known as Becca, so ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,
take your seats because the show is about to
begin.
Hold tight, it’s going to be a bit of a
bumpy ride.
I was 11 five years ago
when I got the call saying I wasn’t accepted to join the
ballet class.
The phone rang; breaking my concentration. I peeled off my ballet
slippers and I ran to the kitchen at top speed and knocked into
my dad on the way, “Careful sweetie,” He said before
patting my head and walking by me. Mom had the phone pressed
against her ear, her face was blank. “Yes. I do. I do
understand. Oh, please, you people disgust me. She’s a
little girl for crying out loud!” There was a beat of
silence and then she hung up. “Hi sweetie, you
hungry?” I nodded, “Was that them? Did I make
it?” She didn’t answer me, just went on preparing
something on the stove. “Mom?” She slammed the frozen
vegetables against the counter to break them up, each time making
me jump. I inched closer, “I didn’t make it, did
I?” She put the bag down and dropped her head into her
palms. It was a minute before she wiped her face and looked at
me, “No sweetie, you didn’t.” She started
stirring something on the stove, “Dinner will be ready
soon.” I shook my head, “I’m not hungry,”
I ran out before she could stop me.
It was hard going to school and explaining to my friends why I
wasn’t on the team when I’d bragged about it for
weeks. It was even harder to walk by Alanna Willis, my mortal
enemy and ex- best friend. She’d made the team and had
known I’d tried out. I was just waiting for her to rub it
in my face.
“Becca! Becca!” My friend Jill came running up to me
at lunch on Friday. She sat down next to me and leaned in to
whisper in my ear, “Alanna started a rumor about
you.” I dropped my sandwich, “What is she
saying?” She looked like she didn’t want to say, but
I shook her until she spilled. “She’s telling people
you didn’t make the team because you’re too
fat.” Her cheeks reddened as I’m sure mine did too. I
didn’t say anything and she grasped my hand,
“Don’t listen to her though, you’re totally not
fat, you’re kind of thin really. Besides, everyone knows
her mom is on the ballet board, which is why she passes every
tryout.” I gulped and nodded, “Yeah, thanks.”
She left to go get her own lunch and I suddenly wasn’t
hungry. I balled up my lunch and tossed it in the garbage.
That was the day I decided to stop eating.