Mori Plac | Teen Ink

Mori Plac

March 7, 2013
By ChloeHunter BRONZE, Brooklyn, New York
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ChloeHunter BRONZE, Brooklyn, New York
3 articles 3 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Love is louder then the pressure to be perfect," Demi Lovato.


Author's note: I hope that everyone reading this can feel for Bella the way I do and always have. I hope you can really understand her and everyone in the book, but even for me, they aren't easy to understand. But they're worth the effort.

Bella Kayla Carmine



It was on September 18th, 2029. To the current day, Bella refuses to leave the house every September 18th. A naive, twelve year old Bella Carmine ran home, holding her shirt closed considering the attacker ripped it open down the front; he pulled so hard on the neck of that shirt, she could still smell the blood coming out of the back of her neck. He had pulled her off the school campus and, never being told anything by her parents about street safety, Bella followed. Her parents had never considered Bella as a daughter, but she never knew why. The only thing she ever wanted to hear them say was “I love you,” but she knew they hated her too much to say it. She had no idea why, though; Bella never knew what she did to them. But still, she dealt with it, because that is what she figured that she had to do.


She got nervous when the man came up on a dark walkway where nobody ever went with her hand in his grasp. She tried to yank her wrist out of his grip when it was getting too scary, but he pushed her onto the ground at the same time. She was almost paralyzed, never being told this was wrong, all she had to go on was how she felt inside, and she wasn't very good at defining that. He got on top of her, that was when he ripped her shirt open. His weight crushed her small knees onto the hard concrete she screamed once. Possibly wasting all of her strength, Bella picked up her torso and attempted at setting herself free. She was pretty sure he was drunk, which made her even more scared. He took out a pocket knife and ran it over the scar on her neck. The story of that scar was another thing that would never leave her. There was no more hope. He had won. With everything in her body still shaking, she slowly laid back down onto the cold, unforgiving ground. Bella put her head to the side, not knowing what else to do, and prayed in her mind that what she thought was happening, wasn't.


But it did.


Bella had ran home with her neck bleeding, her shirt ripped open and her skirt undone. She didn't take the time to fix herself, she got out of there as soon as she found the strength to get on to two feet. Her chest was hurting enough to have her convinced her heart was on the verge of exploding. She always fantasized about having one of those fathers who really cared and stuck up for their daughter. Bella always wanted to be 'daddy's little princess'. But no, she had one of those dads that, this could happen to their daughter, and he wouldn't even question why she was bleeding.


For the first time ever, Bella was able to ignore the small drops of blood, and focus on the main picture. She knew what just happened; it was done. She was never going to be able to look at anyone the same way again, but it would have helped if she had someone to tell.


Bella had collapsed onto the floor in her dining room after slamming the front door shut. She laid there and cried for a while until her father came home and hit her with the door. He did it by accident, but there was no apology. She got up onto her feet after only a small scream and an even smaller tear down her face. She sprinted upstairs without any explanation; of course, he didn't ask for any. She got upstairs, went into the bathroom and threw up. She was so scared, felt so defenseless and there was nothing she could say to anybody; there was nobody who would listen. So she got up, went into her room, changed her clothes and threw her shirt and skirt deep into her closet, hoping she would never see them again. While she planned on never speaking of the day again she knew it would never fully go away. It might have not been the best way to handle the situation, but she was twelve, and had nobody to tell her otherwise. But she did it all herself, just like everything else.


In the next few years, throwing up was how Bella's body reacted to overwhelming fear. Victoria was convinced that Bella was bulimic and still, never said a word. Although Bella always kept one thing the same, she never doubted herself. She had the most confidence in herself that anyone could ever have; she felt as if her pure heart was the floating buoy, and everything bad in life were the pins trying to make her deflate and sink. She may look like she had already let the pins get her sometimes, but deep inside, her heart will always be intact and as pure as ever. She knew one day she'd rise above; Bella always knew she would never let herself sink.


The current day was August 5th, 2032. Ron and Victoria Carmine were driving to their new house in New Jersey with their fifteen year old daughter, Annabella, in the back seat. As usual, Bella sat in the back, silently, just imagining the painful consequences from her abusive parents if she wasn't.


Bella found her small bag in the back seat underneath one of Victoria's many suitcases. She began to rummage through it, for something to do, considering her father wouldn't have even let her look at one of his many phones burning a hole in the seat next to her. Bella pushed one of her hands onto the scar on her neck that was extended from her ear to the top of her shoulder. She still felt that pocket knife opening it up again. “Thanks, Daddy,” she thought, trying not to lose control over herself. Although, she usually did lose control over her crying when she touched that scar. That scar had been there for six years now, Ron hadn't touched a hot iron near Bella since that accident. They had a terrible relationship, but he still felt awful about burning his baby girl.


Bella put her arm down and pulled out a few of her things. She put them next to her, including one shirt which was slit open down the front. Her heart dropped into her stomach. The backs of her knees felt the hard rocks scrape them, it almost felt like the concrete had wanted to hurt her. She remembered September 18th more vividly then she remembered yesterday, it had taught her not to trust people. A lesson that she should have been taught by someone else, but not unlike everything, Bella figured it out for herself. She hoped that moving homes would get rid of some old problems. Although, the two biggest ones sat in the front seat. She prayed that they wouldn't talk to her.


“Bella.”



Damn it.


“Pass me my phone,” said Ron. “I have to make a call.” He held the hand that he wasn't driving with out behind him for the phone and she felt like slapping it. “No,” said Bella. Victoria turned around a bit and looked at her; that look said a thousand terrifying words. “You can't call while you're driving, it's against the law,” Bella said, finishing her statement with satisfaction.


“Annabella Kayla Carmine,” Ron began. Bella didn't think he knew her full name, never mind use it. “If I want to rob a bank, you will hand me the gun when I tell you to. Give-me-the-phone,” he said quietly but she could sense the viciousness in his tone. Victoria still looked at her, Ron's hand was still out, Bella defied every sense of pain and common sense that she had, collected the courage of a thousand men and said “no.”

Looking like she had given up, Victoria rolled her eyes and reached behind her into the back seat, grabbing the phone from beside her daughter who clearly didn't approve. “Hey!” said Bella, insulted, yet a bit used to her parents ignoring her wishes and specifically doing the opposite. “Useless,” she heard under Victoria's breath as she handed the phone to her husband.


Bella crossed her arms and pushed her back far into the soft seat. She was not comfortable, though. Bella was always one to try and put her problems behind her, even though most of her problems were not ones that were easily forgotten. She still clenched the ripped shirt in her hand and slid her other hand down to feel her scarred back of knees from September 18th, 2029. That day was imprinted on her skin, mind and heart, but Bella wouldn't let those scars control her. Even if Ron and Victoria didn't care, Bella always had faith that she had a higher purpose then being some neglected kid that happened to be in the backseat. She would show them one day, those two would be sorry that they never accepted her. Bella looked out the window at the clouds. “There's something out there for me,” she thought to herself; and absentmindedly whispered. “There always was; and I'm going to find it.”


After a few hours of driving, Ron stopped the car very short and Bella nearly hit into Victoria's head rest in front of her face. Catching herself before she did, she leaned back into her seat again. They didn't ask if she was alright.


Bella looked out the window. There were a few other houses in sight, all huge and beautiful. Every house had large trees in the front of them in full bloom. They all also had flower patches, watering cans in the corner and a garage door that they kept open a bit. This was definitely not New York anymore. The house directly across the street had all of their lights turned on. A young person's bike was parked outside along with a helmet and a jean jacket hung onto the handle. “Maybe I could make a friend,” Bella thought, hoping this young person would be nice to her if she chose to introduce herself.



Bella didn't even notice her parents were already getting out of the car, unloading it, bringing things in the front door of the new house. She quickly unbuckled, grabbed the small bag of her things and followed Ron inside. As they got into the door, he set his box down, which mysteriously said only the letter “I” on it. It also had some discoloration dots and was bursting at the seems. Being held together with duct tape, Bella could swear it would have exploded if she had taken off the tape. But she didn't, she left it alone. She was too afraid of Ron to do anything to his things.

She looked up and around. It was a million times bigger then her New York home, it was beautiful. She wished she could have moved this house's interior into New York City, but she was content with her knew surroundings. Maybe all of this was leading up to a bigger purpose.


To her right was the living room and to her left, was the kitchen which only had an oven and a refrigerator so far. Straight ahead was a magnificent smokey-gray stair case with white railings that led straight to more rooms that were sure to be amazing. Bella couldn't help but smile. She held her small bag tight in her grasp, ran upstairs and looked all around. She found one room that was clearly the bathroom, and couldn't help but thinking Ron and Victoria labeled it Bella's room”. She looked around at the other rooms. “Broom closet,” said Bella under her breath, looking for what may be her room. “Other bathroom, huge, furnished bedroom, that can't be mine.”


She came across a bedroom that was on the left most point of the hallway. It was a corner room so two out of four walls were completely windows. The windows looked out to only trees of green. She imagined how amazing it will be in the autumn. Her bed from New York was already there as it had been at home, head pushed against the wall. Her desk was also how it had always been, pushed against the wall so when she sat at it, her back would be to the foot of her bed. Her very own closet with huge doors and pushed onto the wall with the door and parallel was the amazing window display. Everything was there, perfectly, or as she wanted it anyway. Her mother will probably come in to complain about something soon, so she soaked up the perfection now.


Bella set her bag down on the foot of the bed and went to her window. She felt like sitting down, watching the leaves sway and hit each other to make that green, snow like leaf debris that always fell down from the biggest trees. She pulled over a white stool with those little sofa dimples from next to her desk and pushed it right under the window. It fit under-neath the windowsill perfectly and she sat on it.


A small, dark skinned boy came out of the house next door. He wore a light blue t-shirt and went to grab his bike. He only looked five or six, was he going riding alone? Bella thought of running downstairs and asking if she could go with him, but a man soon followed him. She assumed this was his older brother and decided just to wave down to them. The little boy pointed to the car in the driveway and said something to his brother. The brother, who looked about twenty, looked up and pointed to Bella's window. They both waved and she waved back with a smile. They started riding away and she went as close to the window as she could get to see them ride away, but they were too far, and she couldn't get any closer to the window. She backed up and just sat on her little white stool refusing to wipe the smile off of her face. It's already better then her social life in New York. New Jersey people probably weren't as directly social anyway.


A while passed and Bella sat up in her new room, absorbing the quiet and peacefulness that was not Manhattan, New York. She sort of missed all of the honking and miscellaneous noises that got into the house from the outside cars and people. All of that gave her something else to listen to besides Ron and Victoria's ordinary chatter; which couldn't have irritated Bella any more. Now, with nothing making a sound outside except the occasional wind gust, bicycle and very rare car, Bella listened to her parents chatter when she was home, which was not very often.


For most of the next month, Bella was out on her bicycle, having the time of her life. She rode through the forest (which occupied most of what she saw out of her window) everyday after school and loved doing it. She got home, dropped her bag in the living room, opened up the garage door and took off into the plethora of trees that occupied so much space around her house in every direction. She usually stopped and sat under a tree. She would take out her phone and take artsy pictures of leaves, trees with the sun coming through and occasionally small animals that weren't afraid of her. Bella adored the quiet of being deeply enclosed in the trees, where no one could possibly hurt her. Society had too many mistakes, but nature was perfection. Every day after her ride, she would come home, do some homework and go to sleep.


The morning after completing her ordinary routines, Bella woke up late. She was used to a school day starting at 8:10, but this new private school insisted upon all students being there at 7:30. She rocketed out of bed after seeing the clock say “7:00” and through on her new school uniform. She put on the beige skirt and light blue shirt. She ran into the bathroom to brush her teeth and comb her hair. She put her hair up into a high pony tail, but having hair as long as Bella's, even put up, her hair still extended past her shoulders. All students were supposed to wear the school logo necklace, but Bella refused considering she only ever wore the silver bird that Victoria had put on her as an infant. The only gift Bella has ever revived from either one of them, and she has a theory that Victoria found it somewhere and didn't want to throw it away. Bella turned the necklace so the charm was in the front, put on a fake smile that looked so realistic, she even convinced herself that she was truly happy.


She grabbed her book-bag and ran out the front door saying nothing to her parents, who also said nothing to her. Bella walked around the large house to the garage and got her bike. She rode down Vicus street, not even looking for traffic, there was never any. She rode all the way down until making a dangerously sharp left turn at the highway. She was suddenly out of the house area and into the town. She passed a cupcake bakery, a supermarket, a post office and a few bed and breakfast inns. It was all like a little village from way back when, and it was perfect.


Bella pulled up in front of Meyer's Preparatory School. She swung one leg over the seat and balanced her weight on one pedal. She steered the bike over to the gate as it powered itself. The front of the school was teeming with high school kids, socializing and laughing. Some scampering into the building, but not many. There wasn't much diversity, most of them had light skin and blonde hair. Some of the girls looked a lot like Bella on the outside, but she could see right through their looks into their ditzy attitudes. She locked up her bike and turned around to see none of the kids were there that were just a few moments ago. She ran inside thinking she hadn't heard the bell ring and stepped into the hallway from Hell.



No teachers, just students lining the walls. Not one person spoke, and you couldn't even hear anyone breathe. You could hear some cry a bit, but that was all. Bella scurried over to the side and stood next to a girl that looked a few years older then her.


“What's going on here?” Bella asked the girl. She turned to Bella and wiped one eye. “You must be new,” said the girl. Bella expected a longer response. You must be new? Does that mean this is normal and any long time student would be fine with it?


Bella stuck her head out a bit to look at whatever was happening. She saw a tiny bit into the nearby classroom. The door was closed but the window was not covered. Most people around the room were not looking in, but Bella's curiosity got the best of her. She started walking towards the door and the girl she had talked to grabbed Bella's wrist.


“Look, you seem like a nice kid,” said the girl. “Don't go over there.” Bella stood back in line and tried to get a glimpse of whatever was so awful. “What is so horrible?” Bella said standing on her tiptoes and moving her upper body around. The girl pulled her down and whispered in her ear.


“Look, sometimes this kid beats someone up in that room when the teachers aren't around. He picks kids who are different, mostly. Like if he thinks they're fat or if they're a different skin color from him. What ever makes them different, he takes pleasure out of beating them up. Don't do that to yourself.”



Bella pulled away even more forcefully and started towards the room. A very tall boy left the room and left the door open. Bella heard a few gasps while she walked past people; like they were surprised at her. She got into the room and shut the door immediately. It was that cute little dark skinned boy that she saw with his brother on bicycles yesterday. He laid there on the floor with his hands over his face and a little blood combined with tears seeping through his fingers, the blood probably coming from his nose. He also had some blood on his forehead. He was shaking and his school shirt was ripped a little bit. His legs moved, but his knees didn't; it didn't appear that they could. He didn't speak, although he probably thought he was alone. All Bella saw was herself, cringing in fear and pain, with nobody else there.


She knelt down next to him and ripped a portion of cloth off of the bottom of her shirt. She didn't know what to say, she just tried to imagine what she would have wanted someone to say to her, even though the scenarios were different.


“Hey,” she whispered to him. He stopped turning so much and lowered his hands enough on his face to see her a little. “I'm Bella. It's OK. I know you're scared, that's alright.” Bella put the ripped part of her shirt onto the little boy's forehead and it quickly soaked up a decent amount of blood. She held it there in hopes to make it stop bleeding. The boy still shook, and still, Bella only saw herself and did what she wished someone had done for her.


A teacher came into the room, calm and collected. He knelt on the other side of the boy very slowly, almost like he couldn't care less, and put his hand on his forehead rather forcefully. The boy said nothing but obviously blew out a harder breath then usual at the touch, but Bella said, “Hey, be careful. Now go do something, get someone! What are you waiting for?” The teacher looked at her, apparently surprised at what he took as a sassy comment.


“You have no authority to tell me that.”


“This little boy is hurt. I don't care authority right now and neither should you. Now go do what a teacher should do and call this kid's parents!”


“You, young lady, are risking detention if you keep talking to me this way. What's your name anyway?”



“I don't care about detention! Dear god, this little kid is bleeding! My name is go dial a freaking number! Now quit acting like a teacher and act like a person with feelings! Do I have to go get the nurse myself?”


The teacher, in disbelief that he's hearing this from a student, got up and went to the classroom phone. He dialed it and all Bella heard on his end of the line was “305, yeah, now, right now.”


“It's OK,” the teacher heard Bella say to the boy. “You're gonna be alright. If I could do it so could you.”


The boy cracked a small smile at her and Bella smiled back at him. “She should be here in a little while, just don't panic,” he said, having the tone of a bored, annoyed parent reading a baby book. Bella gave him the death stare.


In a few minutes, a woman who looked like the school nurse came in and the teacher helped her to put the boy on a stretcher. “Thanks, Bella,” said the little boy as he left the room. Her heart broke. The nurse closed the door behind her and Bella started crying a little. The teacher, seeing what just happened went over to her and put his hand on her shoulder.


“Off,” said Bella moving away from him. “You don't know what that feels like! To hit rock bottom with nobody to help you up! I don't care if we were father and daughter, student and teacher or King and slave; you earn my respect or you don't get it at all. That little boy was on the floor, bleeding and crying. Is how you reacted how you would want a teacher to react if that was your son? I don't think so!”



Bella walked to the door, leaving him speechless and very upset with himself. He's just like Ron, she thought. The type that doesn't care about people. They just do what they do to care for themselves.


She threw the door open and slammed it closed behind her sending shivers down his spine. “Hitting rock bottom with nobody to help you.” That sentence echoed so many times, over and over again in his mind. But it didn't just echo, it stung.


Bella breathed very hard, in and out, but felt very victorious. Almost like she had avenged herself through that defenseless little boy. She walked through the halls quickly, expecting someone to stop her, but nobody did. She walked out of the school and got onto her bicycle. The teacher who she had met, who was actually the principal, looked out of his window and watched her go. He didn't stop her like a principal probably should have. But he couldn't stop her after that. Ever since she said it, he couldn't imagine the rage he would have if a teacher let that happen to one of his children.


Bella rode all the way home feeling good, but couldn't focus on anything that had just happened. If she was told to repeat one word that she said to that teacher, she probably couldn't. She could only think of how much she hoped the little boy was alright.


The wind pushed her along, making her go even faster then she was, pedaling at full speed. She hit a few bumps and quite a few pieces of flying debris got into her eyes, but none of that mattered.


Bella parked her bike in the garage and walked through the small door they had down there. She stepped into the kitchen, just to see her parents laughing on the phone; probably with some relative that she had never met. She walked up the stairs to her room with no expression on her face and laid down on her bed, after launching her shoes into the corner of the room with forceful flicks of her ankles. She laid there for a minute with her eyes closed and treasured the emptiness of her mind; then she opened them and saw what looked like numbers etched into the ceiling above her.


She turned her head a little and tried to make them out, but she couldn't see them well enough. Bella stood on her two feet up onto her bed and felt very youthful bouncing up and down. She brushed her fingertips on the numbers engraved on the ceiling. Small pieces of the paint came off at her touch, but that just made it easier to read. “666,” it said.


Some force inside of her pulled in her stomach. Bella hunched over on her bed, laying on her side. She was breathing very deeply but the smallest amount of oxygen was actually entering her body. She clenched her knees and pushed her chin on one of them. Her feet twitched a little bit when Bella began to watch her skin evaporate into the nearby air. She screamed, meanwhile, the only thing that she heard was the joyful talking happening downstairs. The seven layers of her skin completely disintegrated, then she actually saw her flesh, then bones, then nothing was left. Somehow, her eyes still watched her body vaporize, even her vision went black too. Everything suddenly went black...



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