I woke up from a bad dream and now I am a scared little girl trapped in a horrifying reality where I’m old and can’t cry and I can’t tell anyone about the monsters in the corners of every room. Why don’t you see them, like I do? But I know if I whisper the words, even to myself, they’ll take me away like they did before. 

But it won’t last, because it never does. As the noonday sun rises the little girl will become less scared and she will shrink and shrink and shrink, just enough so that the adult can come out. Can shine. Can be. The adult who doesn’t see the monsters most of the time. And when she does she is brave enough to cast them off. 

Please, big girl, come soon.