Twenty-one years ago a little girl was born, a girl loved unconditionally by her parents. She was the luckiest girl ever been born. Her father was a dreamer who wanted to give his wife and his daughter the whole world, but not all dreams come true. Her mother was realistic and hard working. She taught the little girl the magic in books and always told her that if she wanted to dream she could go to books, because everything was possible there. The happy ending was a must, not an if.
This little girl was so bright! She learnt to read when she was barely four and devoured every book she could find since there. She would get in trouble because she didn’t want to sleep just to finish another book. Her father once gave her a torch to put on her book so it could illuminate the pages. Big mistake. The little girl would hide under the sheets and read all night.
But her mother couldn’t stay forever at her side. The little girl lost her mother when she was still very young, leaving her alone with only her father. Both missing her beyond words.
That little girl grew up and became who I am today. Isabelle Reed. My mum always called me Belle because she told me I reminded her of her favourite princess, from the Beauty and the Beast. Out of all the fairy tales, that was my least favourite. I think it’s because everyone always compared me to that princess.
“Oh, you like reading. You are Belle!” But I wanted to be Mulan. She’s a real heroine!
Mum taught me many things before we lost her, but she didn’t get the chance to teach me many others. Like how to help my father to overcome the grief for losing her. He lost himself for a long time. He lost many jobs and couldn’t find his feet again. And he dragged me with him. Even today it’s been hard for him to find a proper job without messing something up. He’s a music producer, but he hasn’t had a hit in years. Since my mum died, to be precise. The last band he produced fade away and I don’t think anyone remembers them now.
He dreams big, too big, and I can’t always bring him back to the ground. But I love him endlessly. He’s my father and I know he still misses mum and he needs her, but he does what he can.
I do what I can, too. Since mum died I helped as much as I could, with small jobs and studying hard. After I got perfect score in my A Levels, I was offered a great scholarship to go to uni and I got my degree of primary school teacher. I know I don’t get paid much, but it helps us to make ends meet.
I was a happy child because I had books but I never had friends. I couldn’t make friends. None of them liked to read and I couldn’t talk to them. Mum used to say it was because I was too clever for them. After a while I assumed it was always going to be that so I stopped trying to make friends. It’s true I’m a bright girl, I’ve always been. Every teacher and professor I’ve had has said so. Every test I’ve taken has proved of my high IQ.
It’s okay, though. That I don’t have friends. I have books, they are far better company than I could ever ask for. I have knowledge. There’s so much to find out, to learn. I could never stop studying. And as I don’t have time for friends, I don’t have time for love either. I’ve gone to some dates, but it’s never been fruitful, so I also gave up on that. I don’t think I could ever find a boy who could satisfy me intellectually, and that’s too important to me.
So my fairy tale is pretty simple. Just an only child with a widower father who can’t get a stable job. Too bright to make friends without making them feel stupid. A loner, I guess.
If I’m like Belle, like everyone seems to assume the moment they meet me, that means I should meet the Beast soon. But to be honest, I don’t want that to happen. I don’t have the time to deal with some snobby guy who’s so narcissist that he can’t see beyond his own nose. I can’t even imagine trying to see the good inside someone like that. That sounds like an impossible task, to see the good in someone who is so displeasing to be around. In the fairy tale the Beast is punished to be a beast because of his attitude, because he only cared about the outside. If I ever meet a guy like that nothing will make me stay around. Nothing.
Of course, except my father.
I think it’s karma, really, that my life seems to be so similar to my least favourite fairy tale. Why couldn’t I have taken my father’s place and go to war instead of him? Okay, no war but maybe to take his job as a music producer.
Why couldn’t I be cursed with winter powers? That I would’ve loved.
No, I had to be like Belle, having to trade myself so my father can have a chance.
Really, when they say karma is a bitch, they mean it. But I don’t know what I did so wrong so my father has to come, begging me to help him with this. I’m not the most social person, what wrong could I ever done to anyone?
I would like to fill a complaint.
Mum used to say I was the pretties girl she had ever seen, that I was her little beauty and she used to said I made her love that fairy tale even more, because she knew I was as clever as Belle and she knew I could see past an ugly exterior to see the beauty within everyone. But if I want to help my father I need to be more than just a pretty girl. I think the only reason I accept this deal is because I know who I am and what I am not. And I know I’m brave bold Belle.
-:-:-
Leave your comments, vote and share if you liked it! Remember, updates are weekly and dedication goes to the best comment of the lot.
Belle is played by Leighton Meester (picture on the multimedia)
Bel, xx
PS: you can follow me on twitter @BelWatson
YOU ARE READING
Brave Bold Belle (ft. Liam Payne)
FanfictionI've always been a different kind of girl. That girl whose best friends were books but never kids her age, and who was too smart for her own sake but who would never let some step on her. My father is a dreamer, someone who aims too high and I lov...
