She sits and stares out of the window
Her mind as dark as the night,
her stare as blank as the moonless sky.
I stand at the door, afraid to walk in,
scared of how she'll react to a man, a stranger
getting too close. Again.
Her shirt is ripped, her hair a mess.
Makeup runs down her face,
teary streaks leave a stain as they silently drip
off her cheek and into her lap.
Her mother holds her close,
wiping away some of the tears, whilst
letting some others fall away.
"I swear," her father says, teeth clenched,
fists clenched, eyes troubled,
"If I ever catch him..."
The officer, a young lady, pretty as a picture
and unnaturally calm,
tells him he'll do no such thing, begs him
to let the police do their job,
so that he can concentrate on doing his.
Stepping back into role, he sits with them,
A husband, consoling his wife,
A dad, caring for his little girl.