"Bitter are the tears of a child: Sweeten them.
Deep are the thoughts of a child: Quiet them.
Sharp is the grief of a child: Take it from him.
Soft is the heart of a child: Do not harden it."

Pamela Glenconner

Sara woke up to screaming. And for the first time, it wasn't her own. Getting accustomed to the dark, she realized that her and Sadie had fallen asleep on the couch while watching Greg's movie. Sadie was screaming.

"Hey kiddo, wake up it's just a bad dream." Sara calmly said as she gently shook Sadie. Sadie began to come to full consciousness and began to sob. "Hun, it's ok. It's ok." Sara murmured as she cradled the sobbing child. After a while Sadie's sobs began to quiet. Sara knew what it was like to wake up screaming. She had become a pro at working on three hours of sleep. Once she woke up screaming, she wasn't able to go back to sleep. She still got nightmares, more often when the cases involved abuse, but sometimes just randomly. Nightmares so vivid and real that it chilled her. Nightmares that she had never told anyone about.

"You know, it'll make you feel better if you talk about your dream." Sara whispered to the child. Sadie just shook her head. "I promise I listen." Sadie looked at Sara for a moment and asked.

"Do you have bad dreams too?" Sara nodded. "Who do you talk to?" The question was innocent enough, but Sara didn't want to answer 'no one' which was the truth. Quickly she replied.

"People." It was a non-answer but Sadie accepted it. "So tell me about your dream." Sara pressed on.

"It wasn't a dream, it was real." Sadie replied.

"I know sometimes dreams seem real, but it wasn't." Sara said comforting.

"It was real, it was the night you helped me." Sara swallowed Sadie's reply. She knew the child had seen something, had been smart enough to call 911, and had hid. But just how much had Sadie scene?

"Tell me everything." Sara simply stated as she pulled Sadie into her lap. The little girl looked at her with her big brown eyes and began.

"I was bad. Momma gave me an apple for lunch and I ate it. I was still hungry so I asked for more. She said that I was bad for wanting more than she had given me so she sent me to my room and told me I wasn't allowed to come down for dinner. I went up to my room and laid down because my belly hurt. I fell asleep. When I woke up, my belly hurt more and it was dark out. I snuck down to the kitchen and took some bread. Momma caught me and started to yell. She said I needed to be punished, she said I couldn't have any food tomorrow and took my piece of bread. She sent me to my room again. My belly still hurt so I laid down and fell asleep again. I woke up and hear Momma and Daddy screaming. And then I heard a thud. I snuck downstairs again, but I was careful this time, Momma didn't see me. The kitchen smelled funny. And there was blood everywhere. Daddy was laying on the ground and Momma was stabbing him. She didn't see me so I took the phone and ran upstairs. I called 911 and then I climbed into the big box. I was there for a long time. And then you found me." New tears were beginning to fall down Sadie's cheeks. Sara held the girl close to her as tears of her own fell.

"It's ok, I'm here now. You're ok." Sara said trying to comfort Sadie as well as herself.

"I'm scared." Sadie's voice quivered.

"I know, trust me, I know." Sara whispered.

"How do you know?" Sadie asked. Sara thought for a moment. She had never told anyone, well, except for Grissom, but that was more of a forced response to stress, now she was about to tell the 5-year-old something that no one else knew. It was what woke her up at night with her own screams and her own nightmares.

"Well, kiddo," Sara began as she cradled Sadie closer. "I grew up in a Bed and Breakfast, like you. My mom and dad fought all the time. Sometimes my dad would hurt my mom. Sometimes they would hurt me." Sara paused to try to gage Sadie's reaction. Sadie sat cradled in Sara's lap listening attentively. "I read a lot. I liked books better than people. Books did yell at you or hit you. I remember one night when I was 13. I was reading The Adventures of Sherlock Homes under my covers with a flashlight. Mom and dad were fighting again. This time they were getting really, really loud. I snuck downstairs to get more batteries for my flashlight and then I saw them. My mom had grabbed a knife from the kitchen and was swinging it around as she screamed. Dad was screaming back at her. Then she just did it. She sunk the knife into his chest and pulled it back out. Dad staggered around and fell to the floor. She continued to stab him over and over again. I got scared and ran to my room. I called the police and hid in my closet. The police came and took my mom away. The whole house smelled of copper and iron. The police took me outside where there were reporters taking pictures. The police tried to hid me as they took me to a group home where I lived till I went to college." Sara's tears were steadily running down her cheeks. She worried that maybe she had said too much to the little girl. The little girl held her with all her might and the two cried into each other's arms. After a long they both began to calm down. Sadie whispered.

"We're two as one." Sara was amazed at the perception the little girl had.

"Yes, yes we are." Sara smiled.

"Can I stay with you forever?" Sadie asked. Sara looked into the little girl's eyes, and Sara's heart melted. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to raise a child, nonetheless, one who had seen so much hatred and violence already in her young life. But she felt she had to protect the little girl. She couldn't let the little girl go through the same pain and anguish of a group home, like Sara had. She didn't know what to do.

"Let's talk about it in the morning, ok?" Sara said the only thing she could think of. "How about we get off the uncomfortable couch and go sleep in the bed? Does that sound better?" Sara said trying to change the subject. Sadie nodded and let Sara carry her into the bedroom. Sara tucked Sadie in and climbed into the other side of the bed. As Sara was about to turn out the light when Sadie asked.

"Can you read me a story?" Sara panicked. She didn't have any books suitable for a child. And she hadn't purchased any when they had gone shopping earlier. But then Sara began to think, she had kept all her books from college and grad school and there had been this one book she had to read for psychology. She never understood how The Little Prince could be considered a children's book. Yeah, it had pictures and was a fictional story but Sara saw it as the incomprehensible ranting of a drug endued psychosis. The author had clearly been under the influence of at least one illegal drug, yet the book was doted upon as a celebrated children's book. She remembered studying the different insights the book gave into human nature. Sometimes strange, but surprisingly true in most parts.

Sara climbed out of bed and searched her bookcase. A few minuets later she returned with book in hand. As she began to read, she watched Sadie's eyes get heavy, and eventually close. As Sara continued to read, she began to see how the book had a sweet sentiment and could be a book written for the enjoyment of a child.

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Endnote- The Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exuprey is one of the most amazing books ever written. Scholarly people believe it can be read on three levels. First as a children's book. Second as a drug-induced hallucination that the author experienced as a pilot in WWII. And the third as an adult's recollection into the loss of innocence. Read it for yourself and decide (it's not very long.) As for this story, read, review, rant and rave as always, I really appreciate it!