That is my girl you see there—staring out the window.  Don’t you love her beautiful thick hair and serene eyes?  She rests her chin in one hand while wiping away her tears with the other.  She thinks no one is looking.  She thinks she is alone.

I’ve been here all along.  From the day she was born, I have been here.  Come to think of it, I was around a long time before that—but we won’t get into that just now.  I am watching my girl.  I wish she didn’t look so sad.  I wish she knew I was here.

She told me yesterday that she knows I don’t love her.  She said that if I did I would unlock the door of the prison that confines her.  I told her that the key is right there—in her hand.  All she has to do is move away from the window and take one big step sideways to reach the door.  Then put the key in the lock and turn it.  But I could tell she wasn’t listening.  Before I got the first word out of my mouth she was distracted by the activity going on outside, beyond the window.

Today she had another conversation with me. Well, you could hardly call it a conversation because she did all the talking and none of the listening.  She said there are monsters in her room and she is afraid they are going to eat her.  I told her that she is right.  In fact, I said, "they have been eating away at you for a long time but you are too numb to feel it anymore."

Again, she didn’t listen to my voice, she heard something in the shadowed corner of the room and it startled her—and that was the end of that.

To be continued:

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Linda settles

www.RedeemingOurTreasures.com