Girl in Cinders

Dear Diary,
I wrote a new poem. It represents being broken. Because in a way, that's exactly what I am; broken.

Broken Vase

The glass drowned in color
Standing up on it's own
'Till it's pushed off its base
And onto the ground
It can't be fixed
It can't be put back together
It can't be touched
It's a broken vase.

In a way, it's depressing. But then again, I don't know how else to describe my life. Today, compared to my other days, they aren't so bad. But everything was so much better withoutthem. Everything was alright untilthey showed up. I don't know what my dad was thinking when he started talking to her but I really don't know what my dad was thinking when he marriedher and let that whole family live here.

Honestly, everything had been so much better, even though my mom was gone. I know I've already recorded this, but I'll do it again; my mom left us when I was seven, which was ten, nearly eleven years ago. I'm almost eighteen now. She'd been admitted to Belletrist Mental Institution, because apparently she was clinically depressed. She had been just fine, I'm telling you. It's a lie. They took her. They also said that she was paranoid and suicidal.

That wasn't true...until that day. My mother had told me about her ex-boyfriend, the abusive one who had been put in jail once before, even though that had given me disturbing nightmares. My mother had stroked my hair and spoke softly to me, and from that point, I had that strange feeling at the pit of my stomach that this story, something was wrong with him. And my mom. Especially the ex-boyfriend, Landon. The next month, she saw a man.

The man, dressed only in faded jeans and a navy blue polo, looking at least four years younger than my mother, she'd had a panic attack and was transferred to the local hospital, and from there, to BMI. That's my pet name for that institution. I hate them. I hate Landon. He turned out to be looking for my mom. He got to her, he visited her in the hospital somehow. I remember, I sat in that room, looking around with wonder as to what was going on. Then he came in, and my mother's eyes had fluttered open.

A piercing, bone-chilling scream erupted from her. I couldn't stop crying, and that smirk on his face...it scared me. He grabbed my arm. My mom kept screaming; she would've woken the dead, I swear. My father, of course, was working and was on a business trip, so he wasn't even here when everything happened. I cried harder, and all of the nurses kept bustling in. My mom kept screaming, telling them to get him away from her.

My mom barked the orders, the nurses told him to leave. He hadn't listened at first, and instead, he knelt down near me. "I'll miss you, Princess." I shook violently, my mom shaking violently, her face red from screaming...everything was a mess. A living nightmare. They ended up having to haul him out of the room. My mom had then frozen in shock, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, and a sickening moan left her, and I heard a crack.

She had taken a vase of flowers and thrown them on the ground. "Damn it! Why the hell did you let that bastard in! He was about to murder me and my daughter! My lovely girl. He was about to hurt all of us. And you were letting him!" I crawled to the side of my mom's bed, more afraid then ever. The nurses, all flustered, continued to protest and defend themselves. It hadn't worked. My mom pulled me over and stroked my head again, murmuring that everything would be okay in my ear.

She lied. Everything got worse. When she got better at the regular hospital, they put her at BMI. My dad had come back, and was fully informed of everything. He forbid me to see her, stating that he loved her, and he loved me, but he didn't want me to be subject to something like seeing my mom in that state. My mother had demanded to see me a year later, and for six months, she'd waited. In the end, when my dad still refused, she snuck to the top of the building at night. She took a knife she'd somehow managed to sneak and drew the blood from her wrist.

Both wrists were bleeding rapidly, and she continued to slash on both of her arms, even though it probably hurt. And then, she jumped. My mother, Melody Prince-Murray jumped off of Belletrist Mental Institution, ending her life on the ninth of September. My dad had been all I had left, and even though it killed him (metaphorically), he moved on.

He forced himself to fall in love with her even though she had never been right for him. I knew that for a fact. They got married when I was ten. Now, the family hadn't been all bad. Those first three years had been wonderful...I almost had hope for a bright future. But that didn't come, either. That third year, my father and I were in the car. Some drunk driver had been driving in the wrong lane, and my dad was forced to swerve into the opposite lane to avoid getting hit. Alas, it was too late; our car had been hit.

Miraculously, it had hit my father's side and my life had been spared. His had not. I was put in the hospital, against my will, for a while until they were sure I was healthy. I had a fear of hospitals and a passionate hatred for mental hospitals, especially BMI, that place that had kidnapped my mother and caused her to take her life away. My step-family never looked at me the same way.

Now, I'm the maid, ever since year four of living with them. I cook, I clean, I do their every bidding, I don't do anything I want to do, and I'm obedient. Like a dog, though even those misbehave. I can't. I'm left out of everything. I hate it. I hate it here. I hate everything here. Why can't I just have my family back? I want my father, Noah, and I want my mother, Melody, and I want Jace, my older brother that ran away from home when he was fourteen. I had only been eight.

Great. I can't write anything more right now. I have to go to school. I have no one there. I have no one here. I'm lonely. I'd much rather sit here with you, but I can't. At least I have my sanctuary to run to.

Love,

Ella

I sighed, closing the diary. The sound of Maura bellowing out orders echoed up the stairs, and I gently slide the diary I have been given by my mother before 'the incident' into the very first drawer of my nightstand, and my red fountain pen I'd been given by my father. I hadn't known what to do with it, and I saved it until I needed it. Ever since the year I'd began being treated like dirt, that diary was my only escape. It had numerous pages, and I found a collection of more of them somewhere in my dad's closet. I'd stashed them secretly in my room, so I had something to remember both of my parents by.

They had been ones that my mother had bought long ago, planning to give them to me. I found a note in the cardboard box, from my mother, telling me everything. It was probably one of the very few things she left me when she stole her life. Actually, Belletrist Mental Institution made her steal her life. I'll never forget, not as long as I live.

I trudged down the stairs, watching the two teenagers my age I know as Giselle and Leona, a.k.a my stepsisters glare at me with disgust, before turning to Maura. "Mom, she's here," they chorused, and Maura gave me a smile. A wretched smile of triumph, the one she wore every single day she saw me. I resisted the urge to glare back at her. I loathed her with every fiber of my being.

"Get a banana and eat it in the car. We have to go. Now," she spat, and I hoisted my bag higher over my shoulder as I peeled a banana slightly, taking a bite out of it as I followed them out into the car. I sat in the passengers seat, right beside Maura, because Giselle and Leona always want to sit by each other. So this is where I sit everyday. On some slim miracle, they let me ride with them. Probably so in the car, they can give me more chores to get done while Maura's at work and the fraternal twins are doing whatever they want to.

"Ella, here's what you need to do today. You have to make the whole house spotless. Clean everything in sight, and make a decent dinner and deserts. We're having guests over tonight, and we need everything in perfect order. Got it?" she snarled, and I held in a groan. Another dinner party! I'd be serving food left and right to people I didn't know and then be sent up in my room to hide out. Ugh. I hated this.

"Got it," I muttered in reply, staring out the window. Giselle and Leona were texting rapidly from the back seats and Maura had the radio on, though this was only for the twins. Otherwise, it would be off. Since the twins didn't have a car yet, and there was no way in hell I would ever be receiving one, Maura had to drive us. How wonderful. As we neared the school, my stomach churned nervously. Soon, we edged closer to the parking lot, and before I knew it, we were outside of the school. If there was one place that was as bad as home, this was it, and I was starting another day at Belletrist High School.

Daniella Murray, here comes BelleHell High school.