She was young. She was observant. She kept to herself. She watched. She kept her opinions quiet. She kept her voice quiet. She kept her needs and wants small to keep from being noticed. She tried to protect herself. She tried to protect her sister. She was afraid, she was tired. She was worn down and worn thin.

They beat her. The insulted her. They made her cower. They made her question why she was still there at all. They made her feel small. They made her feel ugly. They made her feel less than nothing. They made her wish she was somewhere else, anywhere else. She pretended she was someone else. She pretended she could be elsewhere.

She was sorry she hadn’t done a better job of making them happy. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to be better. She was tired. She never slept. She had to always be at least a little awake. She had to watch. She had to be invisible. She had to be the one to be beaten. She had to be the one to receive attention, even though it was always brutal, always unkind. She had to be the target, the distraction. She was the bullseye. She hoped someday it would stop. She didn’t know how to pray.

They didn’t care. They had their own problems. They didn’t need any more problems. They were unhappy. They had no money and less food. They had no luxury to be happy.

She was just another problem. Why was she there? She was an inconvenience. She was trouble, just by being there, she was trouble. She was sad. She had no smiles. She had no reasons to smile. She was bruised. She was battered. She was always afraid. She was damaged goods.

They couldn’t break the cycle. The cycle had gone on for years, for generations. Nothing had changed. Time did not heal.

Some want a nice house. She didn’t care about that. Some want a nice car. She didn’t care about that. Some want a lot of presents for Christmas. She didn’t know what Christmas was. Some want braces. Her teeth hurt all the time. Some want shiny shoes. She was barefoot. Some want their next meal. She ate…sometimes. All of these things mean something to somebody. What she really wanted was a kind thought, just once in a while, and to believe, at least one time, that she’d been loved.