When Raashanai and Scotty are with me, I work late into the night. I never know when they leave, all i know is the creak in my neck, from sleeping with notebook still on my lap, while my head lies at some odd angle over the headboard.
When they come to visit at night, and crawl up close, so we can quietly talk, or me simply to calm their fears; it never fails to wake the others, when I awaken in tears.
They have both been near, since the start of this site. Raashanai was 11-years-old, I think, and Scotty was 3-years-old. Both were killed by physical abuse, and both had 1 parent and a significant other.
I want to tell you before I leave them, if only for a short time, I haven’t looked at a note, nor any thing with their names written, for many months. I can describe these 2 precious children, for I’ve wished a thousand times they had been mine. I can’t imagine why this had to happen; a child can’t know or really understand, all they can do is feel the pain and hurt, and wonder what they have done wrong this time.