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Little Lost One,

Tonight you are hiding: in your room, on the stairs, behind the door, inside the closet. Wherever you are, you're pretending you're invisible. Your ear is pressed against the wall and you're listening to him and her and him yelling and her crying and screaming.

Maybe your brother is with you now. Maybe you're trying to protect him like a good big sister. It's a silly game, and I think that you know it. He's in no danger. But still, thank you for trying.

You're worried. I know that right about now you're trying your hardest not to cry, but it's getting difficult.

Go ahead. Let it out. No one can hear you. You're safe.

Tonight, he will throw her. You'll hear her hit the wall, you'll hear her shout, and you'll hear her break.

You won't go to her.

You'll wait until everything gets quiet again and then you'll scurry up the stairs and lock your door and go to sleep.

Good girl. Remember to lock your door every night.

Things will be better in the morning. You'll go downstairs and your mother will be there and you won't say anything and she won't say anything and it will be just like it never happened.

You'll learn later on that her ribs were broken.

Later, your ribs will be broken too.

Remember: lock your door every night.

As much as it pains me to say this, things are going to get a whole lot worse. You'll tell a few people, and tell a few more by accident, but soon you'll learn that telling doesn't always turn out good like they tell you in those little convocations that your school has at least once a month. Sometimes, telling makes things hard. No one is going to help you. People just don't want to get involved.

You'll beg your mother, and she'll tell you wonderful stories about how you and her are going to leave and never look back. You'll spend the entire night gathering up your favorite toys and stuffing them into your suitcase.

But in the morning, nothing will have changed. She won't say anything and you won't say anything and it will be just like it never happened.

You'll eventually stop believing her, but you'll never stop loving her.

She will sit and watch and do nothing while he tortures you. But at night when you're hiding and listening, you will hear her crying and you'll creep from your hiding place and go and sit beside her. Hug her. Tell her that someday you'll both be free of him.

She'll eventually stop believing you.

This will be your burden to carry. You're a strong girl, and I'm happy to say that you come out of this no worse for the wear. You'll grow up, and eventually you and your mother will get away. You won't see him again save for the nightmares that will continue to keep you up at night for years after.

You will escape. Have faith.

For now, beware of doors that fail to lock and dark corners and empty barns and staircases and pretty words.

You'll get through this. I promise you.

I am you, and I am all grown up, and I survived.

Things are so much better now. It's almost like it never happened.

However…

Years later, miles and miles away from him, I still can't sleep without locking my door.

Sincerely,

You.

Description
Little Lost One,

Tonight you are hiding: in your room, on the stairs, behind the door, inside the closet. Wherever you are, you're pretending you're invisible. Your ear is pressed against the wall and you're listening to him and her and him yelling and her crying and screaming.

Maybe your brother is with you now. Maybe you're trying to protect him like a good big sister. It's a silly game, and I think that you know it. He's in no danger. But still, thank you for trying.

You're worried. I know that right about now you're trying your hardest not to cry, but it's getting difficult.

Go ahead. Let it out. No one can hear you. You're safe.

Tonight, he will throw her. You'll hear her hit the wall, you'll hear her shout, and you'll hear her break.

You won't go to her.

You'll wait until everything gets quiet again and then you'll scurry up the stairs and lock your door and go to sleep.

Good girl. Remember to lock your door every night.

Things will be better in the morning. You'll go downstairs and your mother will be there and you won't say anything and she won't say anything and it will be just like it never happened.

You'll learn later on that her ribs were broken.

Later, your ribs will be broken too.

Remember: lock your door every night.

As much as it pains me to say this, things are going to get a whole lot worse. You'll tell a few people, and tell a few more by accident, but soon you'll learn that telling doesn't always turn out good like they tell you in those little convocations that your school has at least once a month. Sometimes, telling makes things hard. No one is going to help you. People just don't want to get involved.

You'll beg your mother, and she'll tell you wonderful stories about how you and her are going to leave and never look back. You'll spend the entire night gathering up your favorite toys and stuffing them into your suitcase.

But in the morning, nothing will have changed. She won't say anything and you won't say anything and it will be just like it never happened.

You'll eventually stop believing her, but you'll never stop loving her.

She will sit and watch and do nothing while he tortures you. But at night when you're hiding and listening, you will hear her crying and you'll creep from your hiding place and go and sit beside her. Hug her. Tell her that someday you'll both be free of him.

She'll eventually stop believing you.

This will be your burden to carry. You're a strong girl, and I'm happy to say that you come out of this no worse for the wear. You'll grow up, and eventually you and your mother will get away. You won't see him again save for the nightmares that will continue to keep you up at night for years after.

You will escape. Have faith.

For now, beware of doors that fail to lock and dark corners and empty barns and staircases and pretty words.

You'll get through this. I promise you.

I am you, and I am all grown up, and I survived.

Things are so much better now. It's almost like it never happened.

However…

Years later, miles and miles away from him, I still can't sleep without locking my door.

Sincerely,

You.