Then

Bella was a very bright young child. She said her first word - Dada - at six months. Her mother was astonished. From the books Renee had read, babies didn't speak until they were at least one. That's when she and Charlie realized Bella was special. She was able to write her name by the age of two and began reading short novels by the age of three.

"She's going to be smarter than me," Renee said, holding her toddler daughter who was currently reading her a novel out loud. They wanted to put her in a gifted program at the local school, but neither Renee nor Charlie had the extra funds to do so. They hadn't expected a child, after all.

Today, Bella was dressed in purple leggings, a blue t-shirt with a strawberry image on it, and a giant bow in her hair. Renee loved to dress up her daughter. She remembered the first time Bella had worn shoes.

Her daughter had taken about three steps, stopped, and bent over with her arms spread out at her sides. She'd stared down at her feet, curious as to what was on them. It had made her mother laugh loudly. Bella had then glanced at her mama and gave her a large toothless grin before running straight into her arms.

Bella was sitting in her mother's lap, holding a stuffed puppy in her arms. She was sounding out the words on the page. The story was about a dog that had gone missing and the owner was searching for it, hoping to find it before it was too late. As Bella read the story, she began to worry about the dog she was reading about. Clutching her own puppy, she began to shake.

"Bella," Renee asked, noticing the change in her daughter. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

Then the lights began to flicker in the house. Renee's eyes shot up. She clutched her daughter closer to her.

"What the-" Renee stood, pulling Bella up with her. The book fell to the floor, and Bella clutched her mother, shaking still, but not making a sound. The floor began to vibrate beneath her feet. "Bella, sweetie, it's going to be okay. Just take deep breaths." Renee began to rub Bella's back as she spoke more soothing words to her daughter. She scolded herself internally. She should have known Bella would become upset by the book. She only hoped that there wasn't as much damage to the house this time.

Later that day, she told Charlie when Bella was sleeping. She hadn't cried, hadn't made a sound. But she had made the paintings on the walls fall down. Renee also assumed the two small trees in the backyard were courtesy of her young daughter.

"It happened again," she said softly.

Charlie raised his eyebrows as he opened a beer. He wasn't a big drinker but the day had been rough and he wanted to relax. "And just so we're on the same page, it means…"

"She became afraid while reading a story and then she made the electricity flicker and the house shake," Renee whispered in case her daughter were to wake. "Our back yard is beginning to look like a forest. I thought she was outgrowing it."

Her husband frowned. He recalled the first time when Bella had an outburst. How Renee called him in a panic, claiming there had been an earthquake. Charlie believed his wife to be unwell at first, but he believed that she believed. And then he believed what she believed when he witnessed it happen with his own eyes.

And he had known that his daughter inherited some special traits from his family. He had hoped that he would never have to tell Renee about his unique family history, but when his daughter was suddenly able to manipulate objects, plants, and electricity with her mind, he had known it was time.

Charlie's mother Helen Swan had special gifts. Gifts that she had inherited from her own mother. Gifts she had passed down to her children. Charlie's gifts were more subtle. He used them in the police force. The gifts of intuition and influence. His gut was always right, and he always got the bad guy to make a confession.

"We can't take her to a therapist," Charlie matched Renee's volume. He took another sip of his beer as Renee sat in the chair across from him. "The same thing happened to my sister. The house would shake like crazy. Maybe I can call my mother and see what we can do about it."

It wasn't that Renee didn't like Helen Swan. Any interaction she had with Helen had her feeling uneasy - as though Charlie's mother knew something about her that she didn't know herself. Renee knew, though, that if she brought her daughter to any professional, she would end up in some kind of institution.

To be studied like a lab rat.

"Okay, let's call your mother."

Helen was grateful when they did call. She asked about how her lovely granddaughter was doing, though Renee had a feeling Helen already knew something was...off. Charlie shared the happenings around the house - the quakes, the television flipping on and off, the plants. It was as though the house was haunted, but it was Bella's special behaviors that haunted the house.

"Plant garlic outside her window," she responded confidently. "Douse it in milk and honey before burying it. It will stop the tremors."

So that's what they did that night.

Renee and Charlie then agreed that one of them should speak to Bella about her feelings. Charlie agreed to be the one, considering it was his curse he had passed down to his daughter. He would be more equipped to answer her questions.

"Bella, what happened yesterday, sweetie?"

Charlie was seated across from her the following day. They were at the local diner and had just finished their meal. He had the burger with fries and she had eaten grilled cheese. They were currently on dessert.

She looked up from her sundae, face smeared in chocolate syrup. Her long dark hair looked oily from the amount of times she had pushed her hair out of her face while eating her sandwich. Her pink dress that Renee had picked out for her already had stains on it. She surely would scold Charlie for not being more careful. Despite Bella's intelligence, she still was just a little girl. Charlie had to remind himself of that.

Her small pudgy face scrunched in confusion.

"What do you mean, daddy?" Charlie narrowed his eyes at her, trying to read her. Bella misunderstood his look. She shrunk back in her seat as her own eyes - slightly darker than her father's but still lighter than her mother's - widened. "Am I in..in...trouble?"

Charlie reached across the table. "No, sweetheart," he said as he patted her hand. "You're not in trouble. Mommy told me you were a little upset yesterday, that's all."

She pursed her lips and looked away. Yesterday seemed like such a long time ago to Bella. How could she possibly remember?

"I don't know," she replied after a moment, smiling. "I feel happy now."

That was true. She loved spending time with her daddy, who was looking at her with a strange expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Daddy?"

Charlie shook his head, hoping yesterday would be the end of her emotional outbursts. It turned out it would be - at least for the time being. The green thumb though - that just became a part of who Bella was.

"Nothing's wrong Bella," he grinned at her, which made her smile wider. "But we should probably clean you up before we get home, otherwise your mother may not let me give you ice cream ever again."

He laughed when her jaw dropped in horror at the thought. That day began a tradition for Bella and her father - a tradition Bella would treasure - and miss - when her parents died seven years later in a tragic car accident.

:(

Thanks for reading!

Question 3 - what is a fun tradition you partake in?

-Bravery