LEWIS, ELLA ISABELLE

[ELLA ISABELLE LEWIS]

ella isabelle lewis, nineteen, citizen, art school student, rue diamond.

"my life hasn't been quite perfect, but i can't complain all too much. i mean, i'm alive, aren't i? i can't say i haven't considered suicide, but at least i didn't go through with it. anyway. i was born on may 5th, named after my mother. my family was one of those picturesque ones, almost. the perfect stay at home mother, the perfect father with a good job and the perfect well-behaved children. we most certainly weren't perfect, though. my parents had always fought, but they were little fights. when i was five (my brother was seven), they were bad. bad as in me and my brother would huddle together on his bed because they were being so loud and it was scary. it didn't last for too long because they wound up getting divorced.

after that, me and my brother lived with my mother, visiting my father on weekends and some holidays. my mom got some job as a waitress and spent majority of our money on alcohol. needless to say, most of the time she was home, she was drunk. by this time, i was around seven, i'd become a little chubby, nothing terrible, but to my mother it was like i'd become the devil. she'd pick on me and insult me all the time. i took that to heart. besides the fact that i was only seven, my mother wasn't happy with me, and i wanted her to be happy. i didn't know what to do. i'd say easily that i was a bit depressed.

living with my mother was a living hell, and although my brother tried to make me feel better, it didn't always work. since i was too shy and had no friends, all i did was sit in my room. it didn't help me feel any better. i was still chubby at ten years old. but i realized if i stopped eating as much, or entirely, i could lose weight. maybe that would make my mom happy. i often skipped meals. sometimes i didn't eat at all in a day. again, because i was shy, no one really noticed.

my weight dropped pretty low, and i hoped it would be enough for my mother, but it wasn't. she'd find other things to pick on me for. my brother would always say how worried he was, but i told him i was fine. he'd always force me to eat. that was the least of my worries after the new insults my mother hurled at me. it depressed me so much, i was just always in my room. i got home, went into my room, finished homework and drew. i didn't have paints, so all i could use was pencil and paper. while my other grades dropped significantly, my art grades soared.

when i was thirteen, my brother finally decided to bring me down to the guidance office. he explained everything, and made me admit to my not eating. it was pretty obvious by my appearance, but they needed confirmation. that was enough to send me and my brother packing to live with my dad and my mother into rehab. that was also the time i decided to stop going by my first name, which was my mother's name, and go by my middle name, isabelle, or ellie for short. that was the beginning of my recovery.

it took a while, but i finally got to a healthy weight, even though i was still very self-conscious. luckily, i could escape the feeling through art. since living with my father, i'd acquired quite a collection of art supplies. it was heaven, really. that was my escape from everything. if something went wrong at school, i painted. if i was angry or upset, i painted. it was great. i couldn't believe it when people asked me to paint them things, and when some people paid me for the pieces. despite my quiet nature (i was growing out of my shyness, but still quiet), i was gaining a reputation for my art. it was perfect.

after high school, my reptuation dropped as people went off to school and whatnot, but art school is gonna help me out with that. hopefully. even though i'm still a tad shy and a tad more self-conscious, i want to go somewhere with my art.

emmy. seventeen. 3+ years or s/t. isabelle is new be gentle.