Hidden

When the caterpillar transforms into a butterfly, does it know what it is doing or why for? Does it know its purpose in life? Is is aware of its inevitable beauty that it worked so hard for? The caterpillar spends each and every day of its short life passively eating, waiting. Biding its time until the day comes that it will transform. And when that moment strikes, it knows exactly what to do. It has no fear, no doubts.

I wish our lives were that easy. One path, one choice. No worries.

However, I am also aware that when a caterpillar transforms into a butterfly, it is turned into goo. Yes, gelatinous bug sludge. It doesn’t just curl up and sprout wings - it literally dissolves and creates an entirely new organism. And in my opinion, that’s a bit unpleasant.

So maybe I don’t wish to be a caterpillar. But, there is one thing I’m sure of:

Change happens. Whether you expect it to or not.

“So… Who’s pregnant?”

It was a mild morning in the middle of Arizona’s winter as I sat across the kitchen from my mother and her husband. I didn’t call him dad because they just got married a few months ago, and it wouldn’t do justice to my biological father, Charlie. This guy, Phil - he was new.

They laughed to ease the tension, and I watched them both with a careful eye. I’d been called down for a nice breakfast, which was unheard of in my household, and after everything had been cleaned up they sat there in front of me with peculiar expressions. I couldn't tell if they were happy or nervous, and I was hesitant to say anything else. Maybe she actually was pregnant. Big whoops on my part there.

"Bella, we have some news for you. And since you're an adult now, we wanted you to be a part of the decision," said my mother. I raised an eyebrow at her, intrigued. I'd turned eighteen in September, only two weeks before my mother's second marriage. She was so absentminded that she had it planned for my birthday to begin with, and I'd had to give her a gentle reminder that that was the day her only daughter had been born. Nonetheless, I loved her.

Nodding, I waited for them to go on. After a moment, my mother said, "You know that your grandmother is getting old."

Oh god. "She's dying?" I asked. My grandmother on my father's side had been dead before I was born, and I had seldom seen my other one since we moved to Phoenix.

"No! No, no, she's not dying, she's just... She needs some help." She reached over and took my hand, and I appreciated the affection.

Phil continued with his deep, Texan accent, "We want to move to Jacksonville to be with your grandmother. But, we know it's tough to move to a new school right before the end of your senior year, and Renee told me you applied to some colleges in Washington, so... You have a choice to make."

"You can either come to Jacksonville with us, or move to Washington and live with Charlie," my mother said. She rubbed her thumb over mine, and I started stuttering and tumbling over my words. It was an embarrassing habit that made it hard to sound confident under stress, and I hated it.

"B-but, did... Did you even talk to Charlie? I - I don't know how I'm supposed to leave my friends, I... Mom, this is, this is too sudden, how can you expect me to-"

"Bella, everything is already in place. I need to be with my mother. We've been talking to Charlie and he says he still has the extra room and even though he's busy, Jacob could give you a ride anywhere. Remember Jacob from when you were little?" She gave me an apologetic smile and I looked back and forth between the two of them.

This was awful. I could think of a million reasons why this was a horrible, atrocious idea and it would go straight to hell. Was it April Fool's Day? No, shit, it was the middle of December. I could have sworn they were playing a prank on me, but as my mother clenched my hand her smile faded from her face and she looked away.

"I'm sorry. I know you love your friends, and Douglas is the absolute sweetest, but you'll make new ones and I'm sure everyone will stay in touch with you. There's no way around it, Bells. We need to know where you want to go so we can buy the plane tickets." Phil put his arm over my mother's shoulder and I pulled my hand out from underneath hers. I looked into his eyes, searching for something. Some reason for me to not storm out and live with one of my friends for the next six months.

And then, I found it.

Dignity.

"Okay," I resigned, my voice small to keep it from shaking. "I'll go. I'm living with Charlie."