When I was little I loved my parents and my house. The house was large and fun to wander about in. There were secret panels and hideaways to discover. There was a basement no one ever went to. The mysteries of the house went on and on, almost like a live thriller novel. My parents were nice and gave me everything a child could want. I was fed well and had plenty of toys. It did get a bit lonely never having a sibling or friend around, but the mysteries were enough to keep my attention.
Then I hit school age. Even before I was shipped off to some boarding school at the edge of the state my training began. It was intense training. My mother would set me down and make me do "manner practice." I was taught how to eat with what utensil, how much to eat, what to dress in, how to sit, how to stand, everything. The parents who had given me everything now had me on some sort of leash.
Like any small five year old I whined and cried when I could not do as I pleased. My father rang a little bell when I acted out. Then, promptly following the tingle of the bell, my face would burn. Sometimes it was a bruise on my arm or a yank of my blonde hair, but mostly it was a hard slap to the cheek. All after the little sound of the bell.
I would hide for hours at a time in one of my secret hideaways. I knew within those I would be safe, especially the ones that were more child-sized than adult-sized. But then my stomach would growl and groan and claw at my innards. I would have to leave and rejoin my parents.
It became too much to resist. How could a small girl measure up to such an imposing man? I could not. So, in order to keep my hair and my body decent, I submitted. But, always in the background, I could hear the threat of the little bell.
No friends could be near me. No one could be near me. The threat of the bell was too dangerous for such things. Friends were not that important anyways. Then I met Dipper. He was smart and sweet. His sister was a bit weird but he seemed more rooted. It might be forbidden for me to see him or date him, but at the very least I could think about him. Dipper was a bit crazy like his sister, but he was intelligent and very cute.
I made the mistake of writing all of this down. Father saw everything. I heard the little bell and began to scream. The bell chimed once more. The tolling of my doom. I felt my jaw crack as his hand went across my face. My body was crumpled onto the floor. He yanked at my hair. I screamed again. The little bell gave another tingle. With a flick of his wrist I saw a chunk of my hair fly across the room. I reached up and touched my head and there was nothing but blood. Shrinking away from my father I whimpered and gave in. The bell tolled once more. My arms are begin pulled and pinched. I screamed but was silenced by a paw-like hand and the chime of a little bell.
It was over in about a minute or two. My father left the room. I heard his footsteps echoing in the hall. And, finally, before I lost consciousness, the little chime of a golden bell could be heard vibrating in the hall.