The Negative Side of Life

Isabella walked through the park, her feet crunching through the fallen leaves. She yawned. She could see her own breath. She loved fall: the multicolored trees, the colder weather, the smell of the air. Isabella felt calm, until she heard someone behind her, yelling her name. She recognized that voice. ‘Oh, no, it’s him,’ Isabella thought. She turned around to see the quickly approaching person behind her. She turned back around and began running. She never wanted to see him again. He’s done too much. Isabella could feel the leaves crunching under her feet. The heavy knapsack on her back was slowing her down. She could hear him approaching. She had to get away. Isabella quickly threw herself behind a boulder. She could hear the person who had been chasing her halt. She waited. After a few moments, Isabella heard the leaves crunching again, going the same direction from which they came. She waited for a few minutes before standing up. She looked in all directions and began walking back where she came from

* * *

When Isabella opened the door to her gray-paneled, two-story home, she heard a strange noise coming from her living room. She closed and locked the door and walked down the hallway, the sound getting louder. She finally reached the living room to find a woman sleeping in the lounge chair, the TV still on. Isabella sighed. She ran up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door on the way in. She collapsed onto her bed once she saw it. The soft mattress felt so comfortable. Isabella found her eyelids drooping, until she slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Isabella woke up to a fresh autumn morning. The sun was shining through her window, its rays trying to break through. Isabella got out of bed and looked at her alarm clock. 10 o’ clock! Isabella quickly got changed, put on her shoes, and grabbed her backpack, only to realize that it was a Sunday morning. She threw her backpack onto the floor and sat down at the kitchen table. ‘All that energy wasted, for nothing,’ She thought. Isabella got up and made herself a bowl of cereal. As she crunched and munched, she wondered what her plans for today would be. She could stay home . . . again. No, too boring. She could go to the park and walk around. No, she did that too often. She could go to her grandmother’s house. Yes! That’s what she’d do. After Isabella finished her breakfast, she cleaned up and took a shower. She got dressed again and left her house, locking the door as she went. The air outside was crisp and cool. Isabella looked around. Her mom’s car was still in the driveway. She must be home. She’s probably still sleeping. ‘As usual,’ Isabella thought to herself. She sighed and began the little-under-a-mile walk to her grandmother’s house.

* * *

When she reached the small, tan-colored home belonging to her grandmother, it had been almost an hour since she had left her own. It wouldn’t normally take her that long, but around this time of year, Isabella liked to take her time and take in the scenery. She walked up the steps to the house and rung the doorbell. An older woman with weather-beaten colored skin and gray hair tinged with brown answered the door. She was greeted by a warm hug from her granddaughter. “Lovely to see you, dear,” Isabella’s grandmother said, “Come in.” Isabella entered her grandmother’s small, cozy home. Isabella’s grandmother’s house began with a small, vintage-looking living room, which bridged off into a tiny, homey kitchen. Isabella sat at the small table while her grandmother bustled about the kitchen. Isabella sighed. ‘You can’t even tell when you look at her,’ Isabella thought to herself. Isabella’s grandmother had cancer. Heart disease, to be exact. She had been living with her sickness for four years now, losing her energy day by day. Everyone knew that it wouldn’t be long until the day came, so Isabella valued her time with her grandmother. “Isabella, dear,” She was stirred back into the real world as her grandmother called her. “How’s school?” The older woman asked, sitting across from Isabella at the table. “It’s okay, I guess,” Isabella said, thinking. Isabella had always been an A and B student, but this year, her grades had depleted to C’s and D’s, mostly because of her “family situation”. She could never concentrate. Moments later, Isabella’s grandmother stood up again and walked over to the oven. She opened it and took out two pans of chocolate-chip cookies, put them on a plate, and placed them on the table. Isabella picked up a cookie and examined it for a moment before shoving it into her mouth. “Grandma,” Isabella said, still chewing, “Why is it that in all the books and movies, when a grandchild comes for a visit, the grandmother always has fresh-baked cookies ready?” Isabella’s grandmother sat back down and pondered for a second. “It’s a strange sort of sense we grandmothers have. I like to call it my ‘Make food for Isabella’ sense,” The older woman said, and the two of them laughed. Then, Isabella and her grandmother began to talk, and they lost track of the time. A while later, Isabella’s eyes strayed up to the clock. Three o’ clock! Isabella had been here for hours. “Um, Grandma,” Isabella said, “I think I should go home.” The old woman looked at the clock. “My, my. I’m sorry to have kept you for so long, dear. Do you need a ride home?” Isabella thought for a second. “No, I think I’ll be okay,” Isabella and her grandmother both got up. Isabella gave her grandmother a hug and then pulled away. “Are you okay, Grandma?” Isabella asked, seeing her grandmother’s arms shaking wildly. The woman looked down and replied, “I’ll be fine, dear. It’s just this cold weather.” Isabella was warm, actually close to feeling hot. “Are you sure?” She said. “I’m sure,” Her grandmother said, giving her a warm smile. “Okay, then,” Isabella said uneasily. “I’ll see you later.” “Bye, dear,” Her grandmother said, smiling at Isabella as she walked out of the door.

* * *

Isabella got home around a half-an-hour later. Her mom’s car was still in the driveway. ‘She might have gone out earlier . . .’ Isabella thought to herself, but she highly doubted it. Isabella quickly ran up the driveway and into the house. She walked into the living room. Her mother wasn’t on the couch watching TV. ‘Wow,’ Isabella thought. ‘What an accomplishment.’ She walked into the kitchen, just as the phone had begun to ring. She ran to the cordless phone and answered it. Isabella spoke into the receiver. “Hey, Bella honey. How are you?” Isabella’s father said on the other line. That voice pierced right through her skin. That voice that she had been running away from only a day ago. “Oh, just perfect, dad,” Isabella said sarcastically. “How about you?” “I’m okay,” He answered, obviously misjudging her rudeness for concern. “Why are you calling?” Isabella asked, getting annoyed. She hated him, and every second on the phone triggered her anger more and more. “I wanted to know if you’ve seen your grandmother lately,” He said. “She’s very ill, you know.” A surge of rage raced through Isabella’s body. “Well, dad, if you knew anything about me, you would know that I go see her almost every day,” She said coldly. “Oh,” He said, seeming lost for words, “Well, that’s good that you’re seeing her.” “Yeah,” Isabella said, “I know.” There was silence for a minute or so until Isabella broke it. “Okay, dad, I have stuff to do, so goodbye,” Before he could say anything, Isabella hung up on her father. She just stood there for a moment, looking at the phone. Then she walked over to the fridge and peered inside. ‘Carrots, moldy lettuce, old ham, coke, Mayo,’ Isabella scanned the fridge in her mind. ‘Nothing good. Maybe I’ll call in for take-out,’ She thought. Minutes later, Isabella was at the phone, dialing the number for Dino’s Pizza. She ordered a large meatball sub and was told that someone would be at the house in a half-an-hour. Isabella hung up and went upstairs. While walking down the hallway, she peeked into her mom’s room, only to find her mother lying down in her bed. Isabella closed the door and walked down the hallway and into her room. She walked across the room to a large, oak wood desk and opened up the first drawer. In there lie a few paper clips, a pen, a load of paper, and, right on top, was Isabella’s wallet. It was a plain brown wallet, but what it held inside was definitely not plain. She opened it up and took out her money. She counted it all up, and she realized that she had almost $300 in there. ‘I’d better find a better hiding place for this,’ She thought to herself, looking down at the wallet. Ever since her mom had been diagnosed with severe depression, Isabella had saved every penny she'’ earned from her paper route. Her mom no longer paid for anything, probably because she didn’t know that anything needed to be paid for. For the past few months, Isabella’s mother just slept most of the time, getting up only to eat or watch TV on occasion. Isabella was snapped back into reality as she heard the doorbell ring. She quickly pulled out a $20 bill and stuffed her wallet back into the drawer. Isabella ran downstairs and answered the door. She paid the delivery guy and thanked him as he gave her the food. She closed the door, sat in front of the TV, and began eating her dinner.

* * *

About three hours later, all of Isabella’s favorite shows were over and she decided to start getting ready for bed. She cleaned up her mess from the sub, went upstairs into her room, and changed into her pajamas. When she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth, she paused and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her faded, curly brown hair and brown eyes matched. Her slightly freckly face looked worn. Isabella then looked away. She was not happy with what she was. After brushing her teeth, Isabella climbed into bed and threw her warm covers over herself. As soon as she closed her eyes, she began to drift off into sleep.

* * *

Isabella woke up the next morning, feeling strange. Something wasn’t right. She got out of bed and walked down the hallway to her mom’s room. Her mom wasn’t there. Isabella ran downstairs, looking for her mother, but she was nowhere to be found. Her car wasn’t even in the driveway. This was strange. Where would her mom go this early on a Monday morning? Right then, just as Isabella was about to pick up the phone to call her mom’s cell phone, the house phone rung. She answered it. “Hello?” Isabella said. “Isabella, oh, lord, are you okay, honey?” It was Isabella’s dad. “Dad, what’s going on?” Isabella asked quickly. “Honey, I can’t talk now, but I’m coming to pick you up. You’re not going to school today,” Her dad said, faster than he normally would. “Okay. I’ll get dressed,” Isabella said. “I’ll be there in a minute, dear,” Her father said, and he hung up the phone. Isabella ran upstairs and into her room. She pulled a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt out of her dresser and put them on. She ran back downstairs and grabbed a sweater. Isabella stopped for a moment. She was out of breath. Her breathing came slow and shallow. After a few minutes, Isabella’s breathing returned to normal, and she looked out the driveway. There was her dad’s car, rolling up in front of the house. Isabella ran outside, slammed to front door shut, and ran across the lawn and into the front passenger seat of her dad’s car. Isabella and her dad exchanged a quick, “Hi,” and were silent for the rest of the way. After a while of driving, Isabella realized that they weren’t driving towards her dad’s house. They were driving to her grandmother’s house. Once Isabella and her dad reached the house, they both got out of the car. Isabella’s mom’s car was there, along with many others. She and her father walked into the house, closing the door behind them. “Dad, what’s going on?” Isabella asked, knowing that she wouldn’t like the answer. “Honey, your Grandma had a stroke early this morning and passed away,” Her father replied, sounding empty. Without even realizing it, Isabella burst into tears. In not even a second, her father was there, hugging her, and Isabella was hugging him back. Hatred digs deep. But in Isabella’s case, it wasn’t deep enough to the point where she couldn’t even hug her father. So they stood there, embracing each other, Isabella having no idea of what would happen in her life from here on, but she knew that she would have a father to be there for her whenever she needed him.