My name is Alyssa. I am 7 years old. I am an only child unfortunatly. My mother's name is Julie. She drinks alot. Sometimes she brings home men, my dad is a 'lousey low life mother fucker' in the words of my mother. She says that my dad's name is Brian and he left us when I was born. I go to school at James Field Elementry. I do not have any friends.

One evening, two years ago, I came home from school. My mom told me that it was my fault that my dad left us and that we dont have any money. She told me to go to my room and not come out until the morning. I did as I was told and went to my room. I went up the creaky staircase and followed the hallway. My room is the first door on the left.
When I am sent to my room, which is quite often, I write in a small journal that I found on the side of the road one day.
My room has no bed, and no heat. I have a candle that I stole from a store, along with a few boxes of matches that I take from my mom's bed stand when she is passed out. As far as I know, she doesn't ever notice.
I have a stuffed bear with one eye. It is my best friend. Everynight I use my teddy bear as a pillow. I get sick often because I have no blanket and am forced to sleep on the cold floor. My room has one window that points toward a house next door. Even when I am sick, I go to school. School is the one place that I am safe.

The next morning I wake up early so I can pack my lunch. I wear the same dress everyday because it is the only article of clothing I own. Well, accept for my sweater I have to wear to cover my bruises. Sometimes I think my mother is the devil. Whenever she is sad, or mad, or drunk, or just bored, she beats me. I hav bruises on my upper arms from her gripping them too tightly. I have bruises and cuts on my chest and legs from kicks and punches. Sometimes she will take objects and hit me with them. I walk to school everyday. My mother says that I dont need to ride the bus, that I should get my exercise. I weigh forty-seven pounds, so I do not know why I would need exercise. On the way to school I have kids laugh and point at me. I see kids get out of their cars, and give their moms one last hug for the next seven hours. I wish I could hug my mom, but she would probobly hit me for it.

Once in class with Mrs. Hollowell, I foreget my misery and put on my default face. I would rather not be questioned about why I look sad. It gets really hot in the classroom so I have no choice but to take off my sweater, unveiling my bruises. Once assigned work, the class starts working. When we are working, Mrs. Hollowell walks up and down our rows making sure that we are not cheating, and doing the problems right. When she reaches my desk she looks down at my arm, looking at the hand-shaped bruises on my upper arm. I'm sure she wonders why they are there but she doesn't ask.... Sometimes I wish I were never born....

*Thanks for reading I'm sorry if it is too short and it sucks!!! R&R!*