Gabriella Bianchi is a girl who was taken away from her five brothers, mom and dad at the young age of five. Now, nine years later, she is living with her abusive foster dad who has traumatised the girl for an entire year.
And yet, there's a chance...
I slammed my hand down on my alarm clock, immediately throwing off my covers and my skin prickling as it met the cold morning air. It was only 5:30, but today was my first day of school and I was not about to be late. Admittedly, waking up half an hour before the rest of my family may have been a little excessive, but nerves and anticipation flooded my body.
Sadly, the nerves and anticipation weren't exactly the good type where you know something exciting was about to happen. These were the dreaded type where your stomach sank with fear. After being the victim of bullying for years, I was scared. Even if my two youngest brothers attended the school, who was to say that it wouldn't stop. The twins might not have wanted to help me anyway.
There was a chance that I would be completely alone.
Trying to push these negative thoughts out of my mind as best as I could, I focused on getting ready for school- starting with a nice outfit. I needed to make a good impression.
Walking over to my closest, I pulled it open, once again my eyes widening at the size of it and the amount of clothes stored there. Damn. I would never get used to that.
I studied the different racks with a wide grin on my face at just how many pieces of clothing were in front of me; a larger amount than I had ever worn during my entire life. My eyes skimmed over the different possible tops until I decided on a plain white shirt and old green sweatshirt.
I also pulled on a plain black skirt and some random leg warmers I found lying around.
For the shoes, I just picked out a pair of white sneakers.
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Smiling even wider as I tied my second shoe lace, I wanted to scream with happiness at the comfiness of the clothes that I hadn't ever worn before. I also felt pretty cool in them, like one of the popular girls I saw at school. I never really had a fashion sense due to my lack of clothing opportunities, but now I felt pretty and like I was about to walk out onto the cat walk.
Standing up and walking over to the full length mirror at the back of the closet, I examined myself with a light heart. This outfit felt perfect for my first day of school, as it wasn't too bold and wouldn't particularly draw attention to me, but it was still pretty.
I didn't exactly want any attention.
The abuse I had constantly faced meant that I was scared to reveal myself to others, believing I would be hated upon and bullied for being myself. And I was. Even if my school life was better than my home life, it was never good. And I owed it all to the kids at school who destroyed my confidence.
Taking a deep breath in an attempt to ease my nerves, I did a quick 360 in the mirror, pulling down the skirt slightly.
"You've got this," I whispered quietly to myself, glancing down at the fit bit I had on my wrist which I had found on my bedside table last night. I assumed it was for me.
