Thursday, 15 November 2012

Where is the public outcry?

*** May Trigger ***
I love watching my daughter sleep.

There is nothing more peaceful than my little girl, curled up under her flowery duvet, red curls spread all over the pillow, breathing softly. I find myself counting her dark eyelashes, etched against her pale skin. I itch to move the one soft curl that always insists on falling over her face, but I never do, for fear of waking her. Where does she go at night? Does she fly away to far off lands in her dreams, populated by fairy queens and unicorns, witches and wizards with pointy hats, riding broom sticks? Does she ever dream of me?

Does she know that I watch her sleep, drinking in her peace?

One in four girls are sexually abused before they reach the age of 18.

One in six boys are sexually abused before they reach the age of 18.

The vast majority of these children will never get help, either because they never tell, or because they tell and no one believes them. Of those who are believed, too many will hear, it's over now. Just forget it and move on with your life. Only a small minority will get real help.



So far, my little girl in one of the three in four, one of the lucky ones. This far. She has twelve years to go to 18. A lot can happen in twelve years.

Some nights, as I watch her sleep, my heart breaks for the other children, those who aren't as lucky as she is. The ones who can't sleep so peacefully. The ones who are turning fitfully in their sleep, trying to hide away under the blankets. The ones who are lying awake, waiting for footsteps to come to their door, trying to get away from the hands of the monsters who are systematically dismantling their innocence.

Who ones who have monsters in their lives that are far more frighting that the ones under the bed, because they don't go away when the lights come on.

Nights like these, I want to stand on a rooftop somewhere, and scream as loud as I can - Can't anyone see? Can humanity not see the soul destruction that is happening every day, in every city, town and village across the world?

Between 3 and 5 children are killed by their own parents every day, in the U.S. alone. 

Homicide is one of the leading causes of death in children under the age of four.

Next time you drive down your street, look carefully at all the houses. Chances are, in one or more of those houses, a child is being abused.

Next time your child's friend's are at your house, look carefully in their eyes. Chances are, one of them spend their nights praying that no one will come to their room. One of them know what semen tastes like, what it feels like to have someone else's body parts inside yours.

What kind of world is this? How can such evil exist, without any public outcry? Why are people not gathering in the streets, baying for the blood of these monsters? Where are the crowds waving placards and chanting "save our children"? Where is the revolution?

How can it be so easy just to turn to the next page in the newspaper, and forget about the latest case of child abuse, or click a tongue and say thank goodness, we have good people in our neighbourhood. Then move on to more important matters - the company's stocks are down one percent...

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