Have you ever met a puppet that has bruises under her clothes? If not, wanna meet me? This is my diary, I wrote this in hopes of someone reading my story, I wonder, would you sympathize? Call me pathetic? Or maybe find out that I am not worth helping.

Meet Belle

 Hi Notebook, sorry I haven’t been able to write for a while now. The past week has been, well, it’s been, indescribable really. 


 Ever since I woke up from the hospital, I haven’t been able to talk. At first, they thought it would just be a temporary thing, that my voice might have just been overused and just needed some rest. It seems like it’s more than that though. 


 The doctor said that I lost my voice because of trauma. It seems that whatever happened during the week that I was held captive had resulted in me losing my voice, not for good though. They said that if I went through some treatments, I would get my voice back. It’s basically some therapy as well. A few sessions of me practicing to talk. 


Entry Thirty-Three