may not have had the best life, but it could have been worse right? Let me tell you my story. It may not be long but that may be because I was short lived.

When I was little, all I ever wanted to be was a ballerina, or a princess. My mother crushed all those dreams. She told me it would never be. She told me one day I'd end up on the streets, defenseless, and unable to protect or provide for myself. Who knew that would come true.
When I grew up a little more, I did realize that maybe my mom was right. Being a ballerina or a princess was over rated. The day I realized that, I ran away. I lived on the street for a while. I was tired of being yelled at for things I didn't do. My mom was always drunk and she left my dad for another man. I've never seen him since. Her boyfriend was abusive so I just had to leave. It's a shame that a ten year old is running away from abusive parents.

So, I met a couple teenagers who took me in and taught me how to live on the streets. They taught me how to make and sell little nick nacks to make money. I raised enough money to take a few self defense classes. You're probably wondering why my mom never called the cops to file a missing persons report. Well she hates me, she never loved me. My birth was an accident.

No one knew that I didn't have a home. I was out on the streets for nearly a year, running from place to place, sleeping in bus stops or on park benches, until one day.

One day, I ran into my mom at a grocery store. I ran and hid behind a shelf and held my breath, just hoping she wouldn't see me. Well she did. "Young lady! I am very disappointed in you! Where have you been all this time? No just get you little ass home young lady!" She never cared about what other people would think of her. Everyone was too afraid of her to call the cops, it's sad. I knew better than to have talked back at her. So I let her grip onto my wrist and haul me away. That's when I knew that it wouldn't just be Rick, her boyfriend, beating me that night. It would be her.

For many years after that, and until the day I died, I lived in the storm cellar. No light, no room to move, trapped in a cage with little to no food for weeks at end. Every night Rick and my mother would take me out of the cage and beat me, they were so drunk, you could smell whiskey and beer on their breaths.

I had had enough of hiding it from my friends. Mom gave me a phone one night. She told me it couldn't call 911 so don't even try. It only had one call, so I should make it count. She was so hung over, she didn't even know she gave me the phone. So I called my friend Beth.

Beth reacted like anyone would have if they received a call from a friend that had not been seen for years, one that just disappeared off the face of the earth for five years. "Izzy? Izzy, is that you? Are you ok? Where are you?" I remember her words like it was yesterday. I told her where I was and everything that had happened to me since I disappeared. Her sympathy was agonizing. She told me she'd come and get me out of the cellar and call the cops. Sadly, in fear of my own life and hers, I told her my mom would have Rick shoot her if she tried to rescue me. Then I'd be next. Freedom taunted me.

I never did get rescued. I spent my entire life in the cellar, every night just like the day, dark cold and wet. I had a diary down there and that was it. Here are some of the entries I wrote.

Dear Diary,
Today, my mom and Rick beat me, probably the worst they ever have. They weren't even drunk today. I wish someone knew I was down here, other than Beth. I'm starting to think she told my mom and Rick she knew I was down here, or even worse. She could have told the cops and then the cops showed up on the door step, which I haven't seen sunlight in two months.
Signed, Isabella

Dear Diary,
Mom stabbed my hand today with a kitchen knife. Then she threw me down the cellar stairs. When her and Rick passed out drunk on the floor, I snuck out. They had forgotten to lock the cellar. I snuck over to the hospital to get my hand checked out. I ended up lying about what happened, because if they knew they would certainly confront my mom about it. I got thirty stitches and a bandage to keep it clean. I had to sneak home before Rick noticed I was gone.
Signed, Issabella

Dear Diary,
She did it! She shot me. Beth told them she knew everything. I write this as I die on the floor. There's no point in holding onto life when there's nothing to live for. I just hope justice prevails and that old hag gets arrested. I can't believe my own mother would shoot me! I'm bleeding out. My wounds are severe, badly bruised and a couple of cracked ribs. I want this to be a record of my death, if I'm ever found down here.... I died April 7th in the year of 1999. Good bye earth. It's only a matter of minutes before I close my eyes
So I tell my story from heaven and justice did prevail. Mom was arrested and so was Rick. They were sentenced to a lifetime in jail, they weren't allowed bail either. It's not good enough though. My life can never be replaced. I'm in a better place though. Yet I still think my life wasn't as bad as it could have been. Do you agree?