Bellaboo Is Too Young

"So young to be called," my father's voice is a lament across the threshold.

I can not hear my mother's response in that low soft voice she uses when she is sad. I don't know of what call they speak. I just know that when I tossed out a few lines of rhyme in anger over the dinner table, the crystal vase holding mother's roses exploded, sending shards of glass everywhere. Oddly, I was the only one to be hit by them. Being only ten, I cried as I reached up to brush the glass from my face and shrieked to find my hands spotted with my own blood. Father and mother sent me from the room to wash my face, apparently to talk about what has happened without me overhearing.

I am standing ever so quietly in the hallway, pressing a cold washcloth to my injured chin and lips, trying so hard to hear every word. I want to know what is going on. I want to know what is wrong with me. I want to know so much. I always do. I must have knowledge. I must be in control of my world.

My father's voice echoes out again, "But, darling, she must be supernated now. If decay finds out..."

More soft words from my mother, but they are edged with fear. Her voice grows louder, I can hear that she is speaking, but I still can not hear the words.

Father responds, "It has to happen, my love, it has to happen before she hurts herself or someone else."

"She already hurt herself," my mother's voice is now audible and tinged with stress and anger, "her lovely face..."

"Shhh, it'll be okay, it'll be okay."

I can hear his voice soften as he comforts her. No one comes to comfort me. No one comes to see if I am alright. I can still hear her sobs as I go back into the bathroom and gently push the door closed, clicking shut almost inaudibly. I pull the moist washcloth away from my face, looking at the whitened flesh around the wounds where the glass had embedded itself. This is when my tears flow. This is when I feel I have found the true darkness in my world.

"I'm no longer lovely, and it's all my fault, and mommy and daddy want to supernate me, and they'll never trust me again."

I am too young to understand. I am too young to know this is a blessing not a curse and it shall take much to make me realize my true destiny. That is a tale that shall take some time to tell. That is a tale that waits inside my heart to bleed out into the world. When the world is ready....