Bella and the Unfinished Artwork

My name is Bella and I’m 14 years old. I have bright red hair, one blue vibrant eye and the other one is green. I love sweatshirts, comfy tights and I love figure skating. I go to a school called New Blue Bird. It’s a place in Canada. It’s like a church where me and my classmates learn about the Holy Bible and other information about Jesus and God. Today we get to draw a picture of Jesus healing someone. It’s super cool. On the outside it just looks like a normal church. But on the inside, it looks like I just stepped into a mansion with elevators and six floors for each class and some other thing that was huge.

“Bella, get ready for school!” my mother yelled at me from down the stairs.

I snapped back into reality. Oh I’m in my bedroom, I told myself. I looked over at my clock and it was already 7:30! “I’M LATE!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“Oh quiet down Bella!” Dad called out to me from the bottom of the stairs. I heard big stomping feet coming up the stairs. Then they reached the top. “Fe fi fo fum. Here I come.”

Oh that’s just dad. The door knob turned slowly.

The door opened quietly and “ROAR!” Dad busted the door wide open.

Me and my dad have the best relationship. But me and my mom… she’s my stepmom.

“Ahhhh,” I said sarcastically.

He walked out of the room, arms raised in the air. I got up from the bed and walked over to the door. I shut the bedroom door and locked it. No one can get in if I’m changing. I walked over to the dresser. I pulled the doors open. The dresser door hinge flew off and hit the wall with a smack. The door swung off and hit me in the face. “OWWW!!!” I wailed as loud as I possibly could.

I heard stomping feet coming up the creaking steps. My father jumped out to open the door. Only to slam into it with a Bang. “OUCH!” Dad yelled so loud I swear I could feel the house shake.

“Hurry go to school, you don’t have enough time. And plus, it’s pj day. Your book bag is by the door,” Mom told me.

My book bag is old and blue with splashes on it. I run to the door and grab my bag. I live really close to the school so I just run there instead of going in a car or a bus. I ran down the gray sidewalk. I see a lot of my friends walking to school as well.

After what seems like forever, we all get to the school just as the bell rings. Our first lesson is ‘The Arts.’ The teacher is Mrs. Bell and she loves art more than her own children!

Finally we made it to the art room. “It looks like she changed it up,” I whispered aloud. It still smells of old paint and glue. But I saw that the board was on the other side of the classroom and the paper was organized by color.

After Mrs. Bell got the slides set up, she explained what we were doing today. “This week we are going to do our first assignment for art. We are going to make a picture of what you have been learning in school. The project will be due on Monday. You will have all weekend to work on it,” Mrs. Bell finished.

I shot my hand into the air. She pointed her long straight finger at me. “Mrs., can mine be due on Wednesday?” I asked her in a nervous voice.

She looked at me. I think it meant ‘why?’

“Because I’m going to be at a figure skating competition and I go on the ice too many times. But it will be the same time everyone else gets,” I explained it to my teacher. I wasn’t confident she was going to say yes but I sure did hope she did.

“No.” She paused then said, “You will have to find the time to do the work.”

I opened my mouth to argue with her, but she stuck her long pointy finger out at me and then shook it. “Ok class. So today we are finishing our Jesus drawings,” Mrs. Bell told everyone. She waved her hand signaling us to get to work.

We all got up from our seats on the floor and headed to a dark gray bin on the floor that had “9H” which stands for ninth grade and Mr. Hareid, who is our teacher. I grabbed my painting and then the next person did. Well, it’s not really painting yet, it’s just a drawing. But today we’re painting it!

We all get into a line so we can get our paints, which have to be watercolors. They are really dirty. I finally get to the front of the line and grab my watercolors. We all go back to our seats. I’m doing mine like one of the ones in an art gallery. It’s going to be really colorful. Time flies. ‘RiNg’

“Oh well that’s the bell. So you’re going to put your artwork in your bag and work on it over the weekend,” Mrs. Bell tells us. Then she starts to apply her hot pink lipstick.

That night I stayed up and I didn’t know what I was going to do. I snuck out of bed, put my ducky slippers on and opened the door. I hoped my parents wouldn’t be awake or hear the door creak open. I ran out the door and into the living room. The floorboards creaked as I ran. Okay. I can do this, I told myself as I got to the stairs. I felt like a robber that was trying to steal a special shiny diamond. As I stepped down the stairs I slipped on spilled water. And I fell all the way down the stairs just falling and falling. ‘ThUd’ after ‘ThUd.’ I don’t know how my parents didn’t hear me!

Once I finally hit the ground I was knocked out for a few seconds. When I eventually realized what I was going to do again I stood up. Right when I stood up a shot of pain came in my back. I ran over to the mirror in the bathroom to see what happened to my back. I pulled my shirt up and I saw a huge bright red scratch on it with a few dots of blood. I reached my arm back and felt it.

“Owwww!” I screamed as loud as I could without waking my parents up. I took a deep breath and felt it again. I held in my tears so I didn’t look like a baby even though I know nobody is watching. I rustled through the drawers looking for something like a first aid kit or something that would help with the pain.

I found the first aid kit. I opened the red and white box. Then I found the wound cleaner and some wrap. I grabbed some of the tissue that was in the first aid kit, some cleaner and started dabbing away. “Ahhoww,” was the weird sound I made as the cleaner numbed the pain. Once the cleaner did its job, I was able to wrap it. Sure, it looked kind of strange but it sure did help.

I pulled my shirt back down and pretended like nothing happened to me. I walked over to the downstairs living room and took a look around in the darkness. I couldn’t see anything more than three feet ahead of me! At this point I was panicking. Bella, you’re so dumb just plain dumb. What were you thinking, trying to find your backpack? HUH?

Then I saw it right there in front of me the whole time. My bag. Just the word itself was all I needed. I lunged for it. Only to fall on my cold bedroom floor. “Owww,” I cried. I got up and saw my bed right there. I questioned myself. “What the- AHHHHH!” I looked at the clock. I’M LATE!! I screamed at myself. Competition here I come… when I get dressed

I saw a tiny bag on the ground. It was filled to the brim with clothes and… SKATING CLOTHES! Did I pack those? No. I couldn’t have.

“Hunny, hurry up, we’re leaving now,” my mom called up to me. “Oh. And your clothes are packed so you don’t have to pack,” Mom called up to me again.

I looked at my bag for a while then picked it up. As I was walking out of my room I was thinking about what happened last night? Did any of that really happen? Was it really all a dream? Did I make the whole thing up? Why did I wake up on the floor?

“Can we get ice cream dad?” I asked my dad with puppy eyes. I crossed my hands, put them in front of my chest and opened my eyes as wide as I could but made sure I was still cute. I did that for about a minute or two, that just made my eyes start to water a bit though.

“No, honey we can’t. I’m sorry we can’t have you throw up on the ice now can we?” Mom said in her sweet voice. I do love mom, but she can be a bit annoying sometimes.

We walk out of the door. Then out of nowhere I stumbled and tripped flat on my face. For a while I thought of just sitting. On my face.

“Come on, get up Bella, we’re going to be late!” Dad told me enthusiastically. “Now let’s go Bella. Mom’s already in the car.”

“Ugh fine,” I mumbled back. Somehow he heard me because dad gave me his signature look. The one every dad gives their kid. The one that always says. ‘I dare you to say that again.’ “Dad, we can keep walking now,” I said it just like any other teen would say.

Once we finally got in the car mom reminded us how long it took for us to get in.

“Weather looks… b-bad. I think we’re gonna have to head back you guys,” Dad called back to me and mom. I rushed to look out the foggy window. Outside it was cloudy and the sky was dark and… BoOm. The sky cracked open and lightning shot from the cloudy sky right in front of us and the road split in half. The car flew backwards and for a few seconds I thought it was the end of the world.

But there’s always a catch isn’t there? “Oww. Dang it’s bad isn’t it?” Dad called back to me. I stared up at him in horror. The dad I used to know would never be the same. In the middle of his face there was a huge dent. But the most terrifying thing is that he’s still alive. Because there was part of the window in his face!

My hands were shaking, there was sweat dripping down my face. I was crying harder than I ever had before. I looked down to my phone. My hands were shaking so much I couldn’t even dig in my pockets. After a minute or two I finally got my phone out. I couldn’t think straight, my head was spinning. I swiped my phone up to unlock it. I found emergency calls and typed 911.

“911 what’s your emergency?” a woman asked from the other side of the phone. “Hello?” She asked confused. “Hello? How can I help you?”

I couldn’t speak, I was too scared. Of my own father. “H-HELP! I need help! M-my dad has a whole piece of the window stuck in his forehead and I don’t know what to do!” I said really fast. I could tell she didn’t understand me. “Just send something please!” I pleaded into the phone.

I looked in the car for something then I saw my crafts I was working on. Specifically the assignment. I pulled it out of the bag then looked for something to paint with. Next thing I know I find a paint set and pencils. I started drawing and erasing and painting. By the time the helicopter came I was done it was beautiful like a masterpiece.

“We need you to step out of the car please,” a voice I didn’t recognize asked me.

I stepped out of the rusted car. And for some reason I showed them my magnificent piece of art. I held it like nothing just had happened.

Once they finally got my dad strapped onto the stretcher they slid it into the metal rods. They strapped him up all over again. Then they asked me to get in. So I did.

“Where do you need to go?” Asked the pilot. I wasn’t sure if they were talking to me so I pointed to me. The copilot nodded to me.

“The nearest arena.” I paused. “Oh my gosh. No no no no,” I mumbled under my breath. The copilot looked back at me. “I’m starting soon!” I yelled.

The pilot just nodded at me and turned the helicopter. By the time we arrived at the arena it was three o’clock. I ran inside and into our locker room. I grabbed the bag that was hung on a hook. Then I ran out the door with my skates hanging from my hands. I ran all the way to the bathroom and locked the door. I hurried and put my dress on. Then I ran to the skating rink. I sat in a purple hard chair then tied my white knotted skates.

The girl before me got off the ice. “What an amazing performance,” a judge said into a microphone. Everyone cheered and applauded. “Next we have Bella Rolesa,” the same judge said.

As I went on the ice there was a roar of cheers. I waved my hands and got in position. The song I was dancing to was Feather by Sabrina Carpenter. I skated like an angel on the ice. When it was over I was out of breath.

“The winners are…” the judge said. I couldn’t see him but I could hear him. Everyone went into a drum roll and he said, “You may check your phones now. If you don’t have a phone you may look at the paper on the walls.”

I pulled out my phone that was somehow still good. I pulled up the list and read the top names. It was a bunch of random people. I was about to put the phone away but I saw it. My name was at the top. First place.

“CUT! Bella that was perfect,” the movie director yelled.

Yup, it’s all just a movie.