4 years ago








































“Mom, watch this!” I shouted across the park. My mom was sitting on a bench, looking beautiful as always, with her long, curly black hair in a tight bun at the top of her head and her reading glasses were, if possible, elegantly slipping off her nose. We were at the skateboard park on our once-a-week mother-daughter day. After skateboarding, we were going to do something my mom loved, and then we were going out to eat with my dad. My mom looked up and watched with a smile on her face, as I landed the kick-flip I’ve been working on for days. “Oh, Bells, that was brilliant!” My mom said, looking proud. My mom was the only person who got away with calling me Bells. My real name was Isabella Marie Johnson, but I preferred to be called Bella. After landing the second, third, and fourth kick-flips, I grabbed my board at walked over to my mom, who had her stuff in her bag, ready-to-go. We walked over to the car, got in, and pulled out of the park. “So mom, where are we going for your turn?” I asked, as we stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. “It’s a surprise. You will love it though!” My mom replied as she started for the gas, noticing the light had changed. Before I could say anything, think, scream, duck, do anything, I saw it. The cement truck. Coming around the corner at what seemed like 100 miles per hour, I watched, in slow-motion, as it slammed into my mom’s side of the car. I finally was able to scream, as I watched, as my mom’s head hit the steering wheel head-on. The air bag was non-existent because of my dad’s recent crash, so she hit it full force. Before I could reach over to help, I felt the impact hit me. The last thing I remember before blacking out was the look on my mother’s beautiful face. Love, fear, shock, pain; all mixed together to form a wide-eyed look that would haunt me forever. She was dead.

Chapter 1

I’d like to say I am super-popular, but truth be told, I am the farthest thing. I mean if you saw me at the mall or something, you would see a beautiful 17 –year-old girl with long, curly jet-black hair and bright blue eyes that seemed way to huge for my face. You would see a girl who is a 4.0, Honor Society, Harvard-Bound, who has a passion for music. You would probably think, “What is a girl like that, doing at a mall, alone?” Well, kiddies, that’s just it. I am alone. I mean, I live in a house with my dad, but I’m alone. See, my dad and I weren’t very close. I was always mommy’s little girl. Ever since my mom…you know…it hasn’t been the same. I used to be popular and I used to be happy. I could walk into a mall alone, and nobody would wonder why I was alone, because I would have a real smile on. Not the fake smile I seem to be stuck with now.