Emily showed me some writing she'd done along with a picture of a black hole and one of a boy with a scar on his cheek. She told me that he was one of the people trying to hurt her. He's part of a gang. Part of a gang who want to hurt her, a gang that only she sees.
Despite this, her spirits were reasonable this afternoon. But that changed this evening when she ran down stairs from her room, where she'd be watching tv. The familiar sound of her hyperventilating hit me first and then when she enters the living room you see the fear in her face. She tells me everything is closing in, she's sobbing and her eyes dart rapidly around the room. I ask her what she's looking for and she says she doesn't know. Someone is going to hurt her. Someone is biting her, trying to stangle her. I stand up and hold her close, her sobs are ear piercing. She grips me so tightly I almost gasp for breath. This is how my daughter is these days, not all the time granted, but far too much of the time.
|How Emily sees things|
Eventually she's calm enough for me to leave her bedroom with her tucked up in bed. She has a cuddly toy held tightly and the bedside light will be on all night. I tell her how much I love her as I leave the room, the door remains open and the landing light stays on.