Discovery Creative Writing “I need to tell you something darling. Something, very, very important. I feel, as if, this time would be the most appropriate”. Isabella’s heart shuddered. Her dad was not her biological father. A minuscule waterfall slowly began turning into a dark pool of rain water. Her dreamy blue eyes opened, her mind moving a million miles an hour full of endless possibilities whilst her mouth remained stubborn. --- Isabella’s brittle bones pressed up against the dusty wooden frame door of her favourite restaurant ‘Lewis & Clarks Burgers’. From behind, her mothers archaic tone caressed her soul. “Happy Eighteenth Birthday, Isabel!”, a sniffle pushed her forward “I’m so sorry Dad can’t be with us. I really am lovely.” It had been an atrocious week for Isabel & her mother losing their father in the most awful way possible, at the train station. However, all she could think about was this, very, moment. A moment she had been terrified of as a child from the deepest depth’s of her scrambled mind. Everywhere she looked, it reminded her of Dad. All his glory, left behind in the form of the ‘Cayenne Burger’. The salivating steam of bacon, the smoky scent of cheese tickler her taste buds. He had taken her, every, single year. To the very same restaurant. From her first birthday. To their last. And not once, got she manage the stomach to unravel the hidden giant. The described delicacy was disregarded as mere chaos on a plate sprawled between border of fat and beef. Isabel’s bottom lip quivered, “Look mum, Dad was like a father to me and I do love him very much and I always will from the depths of my heart”. Her features broke through the wooden barrier accompanied the light chime of the small bells above soon turned to a catastrophic violent rumble, reverberating cries of pain. The bells colliding ever so slowly like two bodies in time, back and forth raging against the winds. Her pupils dilated searching the dimmly lit archaic structure as a youthful women supporting an impeccably atrocious American accent “Welcome back ladies, how y’all doing this fine summ’rs evenen! The usual - table for three”. Her mother’s hands warmed her broken heart as a tear dropped onto the crisp wooden surface below. “Unfortunately, not this time...” “No problemo, chef’s already cooking up a storm for you Issy - I take it, the

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usual?” Some time had passed before the women returned, escorting a white prison cell and in it the universe. The cold clink of the plate clattered against the modernity of the shiny dark surface, loud enough for her to close her eyes. Yet, she kept them open staring into the abyss of the smoke and underneath a moment. Her fingers slowly tighten against the burnt burns jerking it towards the future (just as she practiced at home). There it was. God and satan swirling in a bubble fighting the atmosphere pushing through her nostrils. Her elegant features watered with animosity, hostility and a sort of triviality. Each drop, a lost though - what would it taste like, she thought, I can’t like this, there is no way but I must. Her mouth instinctively moved “What do they taste like?” Her mothers mouth moved for some time but nothing had registered, lost in her own thoughts. Her fingers clenching the meal as two clamps crushing a car. Her technique perfected, after copious failed years of practice. “NOW!” The rumble of the bells ceased, the human cesspool of interaction faltered and the chef’s flames became non-existence as they were covered by heavy metallic lids. Eyes turned and heads titled, commuting a peaceful silence which feel heavy by the hot breath of the world in her hands. They turned away. The steam had stopped. It was time. Isabel’s tongue shriveled as her youthful buds of may made connect with the unearthly substance, echoing the feeling throughout her body like the screech of chalk on a blackboard. She couldn’t describe the flavour. It had been unlike anything she had ever tasted. One thousand words could not paint a picture nor could a million. It was unimaginable, truth be told she was in heaven. Another bite and another bite and another. Sometime had passed before her mother was finished. It was over. Her mind stopped. It was clear - Dad. Isabel's heart shuddered. Her mother slowly grasped inside her tight denim jeans revealing a small torn picture of him in black and white. He stood elegantly staring straight into her dreamy blue eyes. Her blood soon turned white with wishes, pouring emotion throughout her body. She was in love. She felt it throughout her bones and the smoke around her returned forming a torrential tornado. She was on a train to an unknown destination within a tunnel of thousands of endings. “This is my dad? But. How? How, could you keep this from me. HOW!”

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The train now on a collision course with reality. The aftertaste. The burning searing glare of the devil soon hit the roof. Her tongue rapidly circled her cheeks desperately trying to remove the taste. She wished it was gone. She wanted to get off the train but she already had her belt on. She took one last glimpse at the horror plate. It was over. Farewell she thought. “Why?” The waitress returned “How was y’all meals!” Isabel simply glared and turned to the plate. It was empty. “Looks like y’all finished up - but y’all forgot something”. The so called American turned, and on the plate a black and white picture of her dad’s universal blue eyes. He ceased to exist. She didn’t really love this man, nor did she love the food. She couldn’t love him. He had left. It was her birthday and she would enjoy it without him. And again so the next year and the one after that.

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