Entry One

Sept. 13, 2015

For the first time ever, my parents bought me something for my birthday. This present may be the first and the last one I will ever receive or maybe this is a sign of my "loving" parents finally changing.

Who am I kidding? A notebook is not a sign of change. It may be their peace offering because they finally plan to finish me off. But before my time comes, I guess you'll be my friend for a while. My only friend.

Hey Notebook, have you ever seen a puppet with bruises inside her clothes? If not, do you wanna meet me?

My name is Belle. A princess name for a pauper. I am not even a pauper really, I am treated less than that. Even less than dirt on a bad day. Now, don't feel bad for me, or suddenly dial 911, even though you can't really, since you are just a Notebook. I am already used to my life. It's been like this since I was five. That age was the age my life changed, and I don't really remember enough to say it changed for the better or worse. I was too young to remember anything before I turned 5 after all.

What I can tell you is that every day since then has always kept me on my toes. Not a single day went by without a little bit of excitement and anxiety mixed into it. At least you can never say my life is boring.

I have to go now. My mom, I mean, Mrs. Taylor, wants her afternoon coffee and if by some awful chance I don't bring it to her in less than five minutes my left arm will have the same mark as my right one. The bruises haven't really healed yet since I forgot to make dinner last week.