I can't help but feel shattered this weekend. I 'knew', of course, like most of us, when she went missing 9 months ago that this story was never going to end the way we wanted it to. I knew that I would be wisest not getting too emotionally invested in the details of the case. I knew, of course, that I would. It doesn't matter how many there are. I always do.
But this poor little girl. I could never get her out of my head. Every time I look at her her picture, especially this one, I am taken by how much she reminds me of the eldest daughter of another blogging friend. That mop of curls, and I can't help but 'see' another precious little girl - closer to home, I guess.
I'm so sad. So sad that another child has been hurt. That her final moments were horrific, and worse, apparently at the hands of two of the people that should have loved her most in the world. That something went so horribly wrong with people she should have been able to trust.
That a precious, innocent child was, like so many others, stuffed into a suitcase and not even given the dignity of a proper burial, where those who loved her could mourn and gather to say goodbye. That it would take months (until, in fact, what would have been her 7th birthday) to find her.
That the one person in the world who should have protected her with every fibre in her being could turn on her. I'm worn out and I'm angry and I'm disillusioned. And I'm just so F#*ing sad at what her final thoughts must have been. So, so sad.
I'm sorry, sweet girl - that no one protected you. I'm sorry that it took so long for you to be found. I pray that some, far-too-late kind of 'justice' is done on your behalf.
I promise never to forget you.