"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."-Eleanor Roosevelt

I wake up in a cold sweat from my nightmare. At my usual time, 4 am. I force myself to open my eyes and sit up. I groan in pain as I sit up, now feeling the aftermath of yesterday's beating. I'll admit it wasn't the worst beating I've ever had. I shiver at the thought of the worst beating I have received while being here. I walk over to the corner of the basement where I keep all of my clothes and personal stuff. But, most importantly, my locket. The only thing that can give me hope in this miserable place. It gives me hope that maybe they want me to find them seeing as they left the locket with me. I make my way over to my old and worn-out mattress to sit down, with the locket still in hand.

I open the locket only to see the same picture I have seen since I opened this thing. The same picture that still manages to make me break out into a smile every time I look at it. A picture of what I think, is my family. In the picture was a man and a woman standing side by side with a baby-that I think is me- in their arms. Surrounded by a whole bunch of boys (seven to be exact), the best part is. Their smiles. I had never seen such genuine smiles before I saw this picture. This is what gives me hope that one day, and I don't know when and I don't know how, but one day I will be happy. I will be happy, and I will smile a genuine smile, just like theirs.

After I finish daydreaming, I put my locket back in its hiding place to make sure that my foster parents don't find it. I make my way out of the basement and look around making sure no one is around, there wasn't. I sigh in relief and continue to tip-toe my way over to the downstairs bathroom. I saw no one in the living room so that means there are 2 explanations for this. Number one, they passed out drunk in their bedroom or number 2 went out to drink more (or get high) and they passed out drunk at a bar / some type of ditch.

. I decided to not think about it anymore. I quickly undressed, after I took a moment to look at my new wounds. I continued to just stand there staring at my body in disgust. I was covered in scars and bruises. I looked like some type of paint palette. I was concerningly underweight, so much so that my stomach looked almost non-existent. My ribs are still aching from last night. I took a quick shower; it was either 10 or 15 minutes long. After getting dressed in jeans and an old baby blue t-shirt. I checked the time to see it was only 6 am.

I still needed to do chores so I should have enough time to do that and make it to school on time. Once I finished making breakfast for the devils themselves for when they get home. I went out the front door and started my 15-minute walk to the middle school. Sure, I didn't exactly hate school since I got away from my own personal hell for 8 hours. I wasn't exactly a big fan of it either. It isn't the worst thing in the world. But, considering I don't have any friends and the fact that no one bothers to talk to me. It's just really lonely. I turn the corner Only to see the same school I've seen for almost 2 years now.

I open the front doors to be greeted by the stares of some who are curious to see who came in. I guess they are waiting on their other friend and/or friends. I make my way down the hall to my homeroom. I'm greeted by my homeroom teacher Mrs. Applebottom. "Hello, Isabella, nice to see you. How are you doing today?" Mrs. Applebottom says with her usual cheery smile. "I'm doing great thanks, what about you?" I say returning her smile. "I'm doing wonderful, thank you for asking. You can go ahead and take your seat." Mrs. Applebottom says while going back to her desk to sit down. I go to my usual seat in the back corner by the window. I put my head down and wait for the other students to arrive.