She held her baby girl and prayed that this world would be kind,

But the world, she learned, is hell.

One year old, her mom is passed out on the floor and her father is one foot out the door.

Two years old, opening the door to the police while her mom throws up in the sink.

Three years old, watching cartoons alone while her mom is asleep in the bathtub. 

Four years old, she moved in with her aunt confused as to why her mom didn’t want her anymore.

Five years old, freshly in school, jealous of the kids who had both parents around.

Six years old, still confused as her mom comes and goes.

Seven years old, on her second round of therapy and confused as to why her dad doesn’t call anymore.

Eight years old, and she gets it now, her mom and dad couldn’t take care of her now.

Nine years old, her mom left her crying as she moved away.

Ten years old, she hates her dad, and wished she had more than a weekly phone call with her mom.

Eleven years old, back to dancing trying to find something to be passionate about.

Twelve years old, in tears every day because seventh graders are mean.

Thirteen years old, almost her birthday and she stopped eating.

Fourteen years old, her mom now dead, she continues to slowly cut back the calories.

Fifteen years old, finally doing better, then falling back into her old ways.

Sixteen years old now, driving around, fighting for her sanity and trying to move on.

Hell is tough, but she is tougher.