MUUUULIT-TASSSSSSKING...

I'm writing this out for English assignment in college...

Isabella is 15 years of age now. She lives in a small town in Massachusetts known as Danvers. Isabella is not a straight-A student, introved in acceptance as a freshman in high school, and a devout Catholic. Her family includes her two sisters and her parents, now married for nearly 20 years. But there is something in Isabella's past that her neighbors don't know...

Isabella Abigail Willams, she scribbled on a piece of paper. Ms. Finnigan pushed the rims of her glasses and looked over to Isabella looking dully at her feet.

"Ms. Willams, do you know why your here?" Ms. Finnigan inquired.

Isabella squinted and replied after a brief silence.

"No."

"We're concerned about your matter of clothing and interests," Ms. Finnigan pushed aside her graying blonde hair. "Don't you want to reform in the lord?"

"I believe in Christ, Sister Finnigan!" Isabella firmly stated.

"Why do you wear all black?"

"I hate my body, I cover it up."

"Why do you insist on such a taste of dark literature?"

"I think its lovely."

"I suppose you like Maryiln Manson to as well?"

"I can't stand the man. He's overrated."

"And the black eyeliner?"

"My mother was born in Calcutta, you know. I think it coordinates with my eyes."

Miss Finnigan returned to writing. "We're sending you to our local psychologist, dear. Just to make sure your ok. But I want you to seek guidance from Father Matthew as well." She walked up and left Isabella in the office. She sat across the room, glaring at the desk holding the paper with a written recommendation to Sister Carver.

Well, I am not waiting for her. Isabella thought as she grabbed her backpack. She pushed aside the door and stormed back to the main wing. Isabella hated school. Everyone seemed to be dipping into her personal life. Although the town was mainly Protestant, regardless of any religion, they seemed to single her out.

I hate Maryiln Manson. I just can't stand my body, I'm so ugly...Isabella reaffirmed herself. I'm not like the kids who call themselves "Goth". I am I.

Finally, English started and everyone quietly came into the room. The youngest sister in the school came in normally in her long skirt and buttoned shirt with a gray vest. She was only 23 and her name was Courtney Black. She however, was more open than the other nuns were. More moderate which Isabella seemed to appreciate in this stupid town.

"Okay, everyone," Courtney inhaled and turned to the class away from the black board. "Who read Dr. Seward's entry on Redfield?" There was a slight murmur from the class. Chise, a second-generation Japanese girl, nodded dully. A bright red-headed Irish girl, Christmas Murphy was sitting quietly, looking at the ground. Isabella forgot Christmas was in a deep state of mourning, her favorite character in a novel was killed...she however was "shocked" about it.

Sister Black finally decided to pick people out. "Well, what about you, miss Moore?" A blonde girl from the back snapped back into reality. "No..?" "Then what about Ms. Murphy?" Christmas sighed and shook her head. A snuffle was gone still. "No..." She sighed. "Ms. Willams?" Isabella flinched. Her stomach was still giving her pain. "I think it was along the lines that Seward stated there was a method to his madness...and Redfield was eating bugs..." She trailed off and looked back at her dock martins on the ground.

"Yes," Sister Black breathed. "This is Mr. Stoker's basis of Redfield's connection..."

Isabella turned her eyes back onto the paper. She stared blankly as her pain in her stomach grew. She let out a small moan and dropped her head on the desk.

"Isabella, are you ok?" Christmas whispered across from her. "No..." Isabella brushed her black hair aside. She felt a soft push on her shoulder. "Miss Willams, why don't you go to the restroom? It will help." Sister Black said gently.

Isabella staggered from her seat, avoiding the eyes of her peers and lef the class. She passed the statue of St. Peter and finally arrived in the girls bathroom. Isabella opened a cold Grey stall and crept into it.

"I'm ok. I don't...AGH!" Isabella grasped her stomach and looked down at her shoes again. Something wasn't...right. I cool sensation between her legs developed. Isabella went cold, feeling the blood pounding her head. "Oh, no..." Tears welded up in her blue eyes. Blood dripped down her thigh. Isabella collapsed to the floor sobbing quietly. "How embarrassing!" She choked.

Thirty minutes later, Sister Finnigan had called in Lorrina Evans, the adopted mother of Isabella. Lorrina rushed in the office looking at a distraught Isabella crossing her legs, pulling down her already-long skirt. For once, Isabella looked desperately at her mother, something that Lorrina hardly saw in her.

"Its ok, 'Bella." Lorrina rushed across the room and placed her hands on her shoulders. "You're just growing up. Its nothing to be ashamed of."

"Isabella is just very conscious about herself," Stated Sister Black, behind Lorrina. "We tried to tell her its nothing."

"Is it ok if I take her home?" Lorrina looked up at Sister Finnigan.

"I think we need to talk to her-"

"Please don't tell me how to raise my daughters! Isabella is distraught, she's going home!"

"Lorrina, she hasn't said anything yet..." Isabella murmured.

Lorrina turned to Isabella.

"I agree," Sister Black stated. "Just to let Isabella recover over the weekend."

"Fine," mumbled Sister Finnigan and rummaged through her paper work.

Lorrina firmly grasped Isabella's arm and left the room.

"What a bitch!" Exclaimed Lorrina. Isabella faintly smiled.

Finally, Isabella opened her room and crashed on her bed. She was drained from the embarrassment of her first period. "Don't worry, 'Bella." Isabella heard Grace, her oldest sister say, "Its the first step of womanhood." Isabella reached over and turned on Rammstien, her favorite band next to E Nomine. Despite the constant concern and molly-codling of Lorrina, Isabella felt guilty...

Four hours later...

Dear Mr. James,

We are sending this notice to regard the Daughter of John Procter Willams, is now fertile. We encourage your order to take action and remove the possible demonic spawn that will come of Isabella.

God be with you, -Julian Rossi

Conrad James read the letter carefully. It was his religious group that stormed the building in Boston, brutally murdering John Procter Willams. But John Procter was no ordinary man by far. It was already unbelievable he conceived Isabella with an Indian woman. But now, he had to keep that line in check...

It was 10 years ago. The stormed the house, looking. However they found John Procter Willams unarmed, before them with two of the members the religious sect already killed. However, he did put up a good fight. In the end he was killed with a sliver sword and a blessing.

John Procter was a demon on earth.

Therefore, Isabella, was a girl neither human nor demon. Her blood, her lineage, was flowing with her father's demonic line. Her mother? Unknown. Rumored to be a witch.

Conrad was suspecting since the young girl had her first cycle, now to have her demonic abilities awaken. Carefully, unknowingly, he planned for her death. God forbid if someone intervenes.

Right?

Isabella listened to Kevin Evans pulling up in the driveway. He seemed to be coming home late awfully a lot as of yet. She listened to the sound of the door opening, Millie and Lorrina greeting him jubilantly.

"Where's 'Bella?" She heard his muffled voice. Lorrina replied. Probably to the effect of her being home early.

"Just don't tell her about my period, ok?" Isabella mumbled kneeling at her bed. She heard someone was approaching her door. "Wonderful."

The door opened with a crack.

"Hi, 'Bella," Kevin said. He was holding the door open with his briefcase in his left hand. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Obviously not," Isabella snapped. "Otherwise I would have gone to Math." She didn't even look at Kevin but she could tell he was waiting for a new subject.

"Your favorite band is coming out with a new CD," He said more jubilantly "Doesn't that make you happy?"

"Yes," She still was kneeling at the side of her bed, without turning.

Kevin placed his briefcase on the floor and walked up the bed and sat on it, looking down at Isabella. He had more dark circles under his eyes and his hair was still thinning, but then he said gently.

"I know its hard growing up and I know my words are empty because I am a man," He paused then added "But you will make a someone very happy in life. They'll cherish your unique soul." He smiled and got back up, bending over to get his briefcase.

He shut the door and walked back down stairs greeting his wife and daughter.

"I wish my real dad was alive..." Isabella whipped her forehead.