My New Family

This Terrible Thing I Call; My Life.

I woke up. My dream, it was beautiful. My family and friends loved me and cared about me. When I woke up I didn't think it was a dream, until I jumped out of bed... and I felt the pain in my ribs and back.

I should probably introduce myself. I'm Amber Leigh, and I'm 14. People think my life is easy, but they have no idea. My family abuses me, they have ever since I was a little girl. Sometimes physically, sometimes sexually. If i have any marks, my parents will say i fell down the stairs or tripped playing netball. My mother hits me constantly, and my father and uncle touch, grope and rape me. They've never shown me any kindness, just hatred. I don't know what I did to make them hate me so much. Sometimes I just wish I could die.

As for friends, I have none. The only person who ever treated me like a human being was my grandmother. She passed away last year. God, I loved her so much. Now that she's gone, I have no one to talk to; no one to laugh with; just... no one.

I don't have friends because I am invisible at my school. Average weight, height, smarts. Average. At my school, no one cares unless you're pretty or dying. I don't really care though. No one understands me anyway.

I got up and washed my face, looking at the darks rings underneath my eyes. I got dressed, then put on some concealer. I had to make sure my clothes covered my scars and bruises.  

I went downstairs and when I was about to leave; my mother finally came down. "Where do you think you're going?" she said angrily. "I'm just going to the park; you've never cared about where I was before" I mumbled. "DON'T BE A SMARTASS!" she yelled, shoving me into the wall, hard. My eyes started tearing up and I blindly grabbed my drawing book and pencils. I ran and ran until I reached the park and I sat down on the crisp green grass and started drawing.

Drawing was how I escaped from my life, from the world and everyone in it. No one has ever seen my drawings except for my art teacher Mrs Stevens. She's the closest thing I have to a friend now that my grandma is gone. She says that I have real talent and always wants to show my drawings to the class, but i don't want her to. She respects my wishes, and never does. I always see that look of disappointment in her eyes when I say no; and I start to feel bad. But I'm just so scared people will hate my drawings and say I have no talent. Drawing is the only thing I have, I don't want that to be taken away too.

I flick the pages and look at my drawings. Most of them are nature scenes, but then I see a portrait. A portrait of my grandmother. I think that is my best drawing. No one, not even Mrs Stevens has seen this drawing. I don't do portraits much, because, well; I don't have anyone to draw. I have considered asking Mrs Stevens, but she might think my portraits are horrible. If I lose Mrs Stevens, I have nobody, so I keep my mouth shut and just keep drawing nature scenes.

I stayed at the park for god knows how long, when I came home it was 9:00pm and my mother was asleep. Phew, I thought, as I walked past my parents room. No sign of my father though. I walked into my room, and my heart shattered. He was sitting on my bed, beckoning me to come to him. My stomach flopped and I dropped my drawing book on the floor with a thud. I slowly trudged over to my bed, ready for it to happen all over again.