Beautiful Disaster
Behind the Beauty
Isabella was beautiful, from the very minute she was born. She was wrikly and fuzzy, like most newborns, but in a cute way. She modeled her whole life. She had caramel colored skin and gold-copper eyes, her hair long, sleek, and pin straight, shiny and thick, and silky. She was thin, with a perfect body, and popular beyond belief, with a rather large amount of money in her pocket from all the modeling.
When she was a baby, she modeled for diaper, baby food, shampoo, and other baby product commercials and ads. Then, when she was a toddler, she was in JC Penney catalogs, in the toddler's sections. She was there until she was fifteen, when she moved onto Victoria's Secret, and multiple commercials.
And she was bitchy about it. She was selfish and mean, and only cared about herself.
But there was a reason behind it.
When she was two years old, her mother died. She got breast cancer after Isabella was weaned, and died a year later. Not from the cancer-suicide. She left Isabella with only a letter, and the small fortune she had kept from Isabella's early modeling days.
Unfortunately, her father was so depressed, he took the money and spent it all on liquor. He bacame an alchoholic, and for two years was abusing poor Isabella.
The letter from Isabella's mother was short, but held so much meaning. But words can't replace a person.
Dear Isabella,
I know this seems cruel and selfish, but please know that I am only doing this because I love you. I don't want to be suffering, and I don't want you to see me suffer until I die. I'm going to die anyway, and i don't want it to be slow and agonizing. We found the cancer too late, and they can try, but the doctors can't fix it.
You are my pride and joy. I'm so proud of you. You are a beautiful little girl, and I wish I could watch you grow into an even more beautiful young lady, and eventually, a woman.
I'm leaving you the money you made. Your father will be in control of it until it's rightfully yours, when you're eighteen.
I love you so much, and I'm so sorry for the pain I'm putting you through. But it's better than watching me suffer. I love you, I'll love you forever, and I'll watch over you, until I see you again someday.
I love you so much, Isabella.
Love,
Your mother,
Carolina
Isabella only had a handful of memories of her mother.
When Isabella turned seven, her father joined the navy. When she was ten, he started travelling with them. He would be gone for long periods of time, leaving her under the care of Ms. Hatchett, the British woman who lived three miles down from their estate. Ms. Hatchett stayed with Isabella until she was twelve, hardly taking care of her, and then moved back into her own estate.
From then on, Isabella lived alone.
She lived off the money from her modeling, taking care of herself. She visited Ms. Hatchett whenever she needed to, when it involved a "legal guardian."
Isabella may have had it all, but she was never happy.
When she was a baby, she modeled for diaper, baby food, shampoo, and other baby product commercials and ads. Then, when she was a toddler, she was in JC Penney catalogs, in the toddler's sections. She was there until she was fifteen, when she moved onto Victoria's Secret, and multiple commercials.
And she was bitchy about it. She was selfish and mean, and only cared about herself.
But there was a reason behind it.
When she was two years old, her mother died. She got breast cancer after Isabella was weaned, and died a year later. Not from the cancer-suicide. She left Isabella with only a letter, and the small fortune she had kept from Isabella's early modeling days.
Unfortunately, her father was so depressed, he took the money and spent it all on liquor. He bacame an alchoholic, and for two years was abusing poor Isabella.
The letter from Isabella's mother was short, but held so much meaning. But words can't replace a person.
Dear Isabella,
I know this seems cruel and selfish, but please know that I am only doing this because I love you. I don't want to be suffering, and I don't want you to see me suffer until I die. I'm going to die anyway, and i don't want it to be slow and agonizing. We found the cancer too late, and they can try, but the doctors can't fix it.
You are my pride and joy. I'm so proud of you. You are a beautiful little girl, and I wish I could watch you grow into an even more beautiful young lady, and eventually, a woman.
I'm leaving you the money you made. Your father will be in control of it until it's rightfully yours, when you're eighteen.
I love you so much, and I'm so sorry for the pain I'm putting you through. But it's better than watching me suffer. I love you, I'll love you forever, and I'll watch over you, until I see you again someday.
I love you so much, Isabella.
Love,
Your mother,
Carolina
Isabella only had a handful of memories of her mother.
When Isabella turned seven, her father joined the navy. When she was ten, he started travelling with them. He would be gone for long periods of time, leaving her under the care of Ms. Hatchett, the British woman who lived three miles down from their estate. Ms. Hatchett stayed with Isabella until she was twelve, hardly taking care of her, and then moved back into her own estate.
From then on, Isabella lived alone.
She lived off the money from her modeling, taking care of herself. She visited Ms. Hatchett whenever she needed to, when it involved a "legal guardian."
Isabella may have had it all, but she was never happy.