Baby girl, you hear that?


It’s stopped.


You know though, don’t you?

You know what that means.

You clever girl.

You’ll always remember this moment in time.

In a split second you knew what that silence meant.

It was the most pleasing sound and the most heartbreaking all at the same time because that meant it was over.

All of it.

No more yelling,

Ever again.

What relief.

What terror.


Why won’t they talk to you?

They don’t know how smart you are.

They underestimate you because even at eleven years old you know exactly what’s going on.

But no one will say the words.

There’s just that silence.

There’s just that big silent bubble and all you want to do is pierce it with your scream.




But all you can muster is . . . ‘Mum? Have you forgiven dad yet?’


There’s that silence again.

It says it all.

It says everything.

It’s deafening.


You don’t have to eat today.

You don’t have to eat that donut.

That donut looks like your heart, with the pink icing and the big hole in the middle.

You wouldn’t be able to swallow it anyway.

You wouldn’t be able to swallow past that lump in your throat.

That lump that feels like a red-hot coal burning.

Do you know what that lump is?

That’s your voice, darling.

That’s your voice.

Don’t leave it dormant.

It’s okay, baby girl.


Just cry.

It’s okay to cry.

You are allowed to feel this sadness.

You are allowed to mourn and grieve because this is a deep loss and it is scary.


I haven’t left you.

Trust me.

I’ll still be here with you fourteen years down the road.

You’re going to get really good at bottling your emotions,

And you’ll still feel that burn in your throat when it’s your turn to speak up.

But when you do,

It will sound like no other,

And people will hear you.

I promise you your vulnerability will be a strength one day,

And people will be willing to listen.


You hear that, baby girl?

That silence?

Break it.

© 2018 by Jordan Wellard