Her back leaned against the cold timber wall, the scanty nightgown offering little protection from the chill seeping through her skin. One leg was close to her chest, her elbow resting on the upraised knee. The other was straight out, the skin pressed into the polished timber of the window seat. Flimsy voile curtains billowed softly with the gentle, chilling breeze whispering through the open window. Midnight curls brushed against her milky face and shoulders. Outside, soft raindrops were falling gently to earth, leaving the grass glittering with diamonds in the moonlight. The smell of rain permeated the air filling it with its calming scent. Kacii often sat at her window at night, staring into the black night, dreaming. This night was like all the other nights.

Next door, the neighbour's kitchen light was on. A broad shouldered male stood, hands on hips, feet wide apart. Petite and diminutive, another figure was backed up against the wall, hands covering her face, useless in shielding her fragile frame from the menacing body that blocked her escape. His voice could be clearly heard, his words foul and full of anger and hate. Kacii turned away as the fight started, punch after punch, fist after fist, the woman's feeble hands unable to stop the abuse.

On the back steps a toddler sat encircled by the arms of his sister, protected from the violent fray inside. Quite content to sit in his sister's lap, he paid no attention to the vulgar yelling and frightened yelps coming from his home. In a happening that was all too familiar, yawned and snuggled closer to the warmth of his sister, chubby arms reaching up to an embrace, as he rested his weary little head on her shoulder. Bruised and cut arms enveloped the little boy, drawing him closer, her back turned towards the door and the terror enclosed inside. Weary eyes, black from lack of sleep and numerous beatings, looked upon the sleeping boy, who dreamed peacefully. A single tear rolled down her cheek, a tear shed for the uncertain future of her baby brother. A tear shed for the loss of her own innocent childhood. A tear shed for the many times she had sacrificed her safety to protect her brother. It was a tear that too often fell from Sajah's eyes.

Peering out into the wet night, Sajah could see Kacii sitting at her window, the way she did many nights. Lit from behind, it was almost as though an angel was looking upon them, watching over them. But Kacii did not see them on that step. She did not see the suffering of the family. She did not hear their pleading cries. Sajah did not understand. Often, when she saw that girl, Sajah wanted to talk to her, to get her attention, seeking her help. But that girl, that angel in her tower, just looked away, ignoring the torment that Sajah, her brother and her mother were subjected to.

Kacii turned her face back to the window. She loved the feeling of the cool breeze blowing in her face. The exciting smells that it brought with it: rain, a home cooked meal, and sometimes a delicate perfume. She loved to sit there, to smell and feel the outside world. To imagine what life was like through the window. For her world was one of darkness and silence. Her clouded eyes saw no stars, no rain, and no frightened girl cradling her baby brother. Her deaf ears heard no night birds, no splashing of raindrops, and no tears of anguish and defeat. There Kacii sat, staring directly at the girl, blind to her world, but sharing in Sajah's darkness.