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

 I hate them. They ruined me. I lost my voice, I have no idea what’s wrong from right. I have no one but Martha and Gabriel. And it’s all because of them. 


 I have never felt this before. This feeling, called “hate”. It’s the instant feeling I got when I entered that courtroom. I wanted to make them pay. For every single hit, and every tear I shed. I wanted them to feel what I felt. To know that what they did was wrong. 


 When I felt the anger in me, my tears fell continuously. Martha thought I was afraid and started to hug me as comfort. The hug helped, but I wasn’t afraid, I was angry, no I was furious. 


 When I saw Mr. and Mrs. Taylor inside the courtroom, I felt relieved, they were also being prosecuted. When they went up to say their statement, my blood boiled. “She hurt herself a lot”, “we really loved her”, “we never laid a finger on her”, “she was mentally unstable”, those words were their defense. 


Entry Thirty-Four