Chapter 1
age: 5
Dark that's the only word that can describe my life since i can remember. All my pain and suffering began too early for me. I bet your wondering who I am. My name is Bella. People consider me many things. Some consider me a rocker, goth, or the most used a loner. So where was I again? Oh yeah my life. Like I said it all began when I was five.
I woke up to a normal day. Well as normal as it could get. It was my first day of school and I was happy. I got dressed in a pink shirt that had hearts at the edges and a blue skirt. I topped it off with some pink converse. My mother as i liked to call her had been moody lately but as a child i just thought it was nothing. My mother drove me to school and before i got off she told me "Meet me by these gates after school or you will get "it"." Me being the child I was just put it off as something good and didn't really think about it.
I looked at the school. It looked very fun. It had tricycles and monkey bars. Inside the walls were painted a cream color while all the doors were a blue. When I got into the class I was assigned to it was total chaos. Kids were screaming and crying. Others were playing pranks on each other. Only 5 kids were sitting in there seats. I was about to go to my seat when I heard a bell. At that moment the teacher came in. This teacher that i was going to get to know for a year seemed very kind. She got all the disrupted children in their seats while I was going to mine.
The whole day was spent learning the ABC's, singing, and playing. Once the bell,that I got used to, rang it was afterschool. I was waiting for my mother where she told me when a girl from my class asked me if I wasnted to play with her. I told her yes and we began to play. Thirty minutes or so later, I am being dragged to the car by my angry mom. She took me home and dropped me off upstairs in my room. A few minutes later she comes inside and thats where I begin to cry. Hit after hit all I could do was cry and wonder what I did to make my mother so mad. She left after she thought i was "punished enough". With that I took a bath and went straight to bed not wanting to face my father or worse my mother (again).
The next day I went to school, I sat in my seat and stayed quiet. The same girl as yesterday came up to me and asked me if I wanted to play with her after school. I just nodded my head telling her no. She smiled and said maybe next time but I knew there wouldn't be a next time because my answer would stay the same 'no'. As usual we learned the ABC's. We also learned how to count to 15 and sang songs. It came to be after school again and i was waiting at the gates so I wouldnt get hit by my mother. I waited for 35 minutes until my mother showed up. There was something different though. She looked happy and smelled funny. I got in and my leg bumped into something. I noticed it was a beer bottle. I looked at her with pure fear knowing that something would be wrong. I got home safe and sound but I knew once we got inside it might become hell.
I was right. Right after she closed the door she began beating me. I tried to fight back but what could a helpless 5 year old girl do? while she was beating me she kept saying " Why, Why did I have a bastard child like you." She would also start screaming " You were a mistake. That's all you were. I should have killed you while you were still in me." I began to cry because I started to think ' Do people care about me or do they pity me.'
Things like that went on for months and months. For Mother's day she expected gifts and if she didn't get any she would beat me. For Father's day he would expect gifts as well but his beatings were worse. If I didn't get him a gift he would hit me with a belt and give me cuts on my legs. Every holiday meant I had to do things for them no matter what or else i would get hurt. Finally the time came it was Christmas. My gift was to clean the whole house. Once I was done they told me Merry Christmas and then came my beating. I slept on the kitchen floor that night since they hit me 'til I passed out.
Days were coming closer to my birthday. For the rest of my life this day would mean that I shouldnt have been born. I would celebrate it until they decided to stop. Until then I would dread my birthday.
- Why have me if all you want is to tell me I'm useless. I would have better of been dead just like you said-
from the diary of Bella