It's as if she's nothing, as visible as air. Her heart, if she knew what one was, would be shattered. She sits in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest and doesn't dare cry. If any sound escapes, the monster would come for her; he doesn't like noises.
It's been an hour, maybe two, since she went into hiding. All alone in the dark cluttered closet, she shivers from the winter wind that roars in from her broken windows. With dirt on her face and mud weaved into her hair, her white nightgown, stained with nightmares, tattered and torn, she looks much younger and smaller than her eight years, as if she was once again a fetus in her dead mother's womb.
The monster roars once, then twice, and she crumples into a ball. Her skeletal body vibrates as his monstrous steps crescendo. She rocks back and forth, back and forth, and though fear has awakened all her senses, she does not shed a tear; she's forbidden to.
"Daddy, help!" It escapes her lips beyond her control, and instantly, her tiny fingers are wrapped around her mouth.
The monster hazily pulls the door open and towers in the entryway of the closet, a dopey grin spread across his face.
"Daddy?" she whimpers once more before being condemned to forever silence.
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