Grandma, I sit and write these lines with a heavy heart that I have not dared to say out loud for a long time. I tried to endure, I tried to be silent so that everything passed, but now I feel that I can’t bear it anymore. I need you — I need an adult who believes in me, protects me.

My step-aunt told me not to sit, lie down, or even sleep; My aunt forced me to stand for many hours, many days I had to stay up until 12 o’clock at night without rest just to do things that made me too tired. I stood up to my legs aching, my eyes were flowering, but my aunt still shouted: “Stand and stand, don’t scream.” Every time I was too tired, I only dared to cry silently, because I knew that if my aunt found out, I would be scolded even louder, forced to work part-time.

Not only that, but my aunt also made me do things that were too much for my age: cleaning the house, carrying heavy things, cleaning for hours without giving me a break. When I asked for some water or a full bowl of rice, my aunt said I was “unworthy”, and only gave me very little. One day I was so hungry that I was dizzy, my throat was dry, I only dared to take a sip and then suck it again, because I was afraid that if I asked for a lot, I would be scolded for being gluttonous.

Every time I feel sick, I dare not speak; My aunt shouted that I was pretending to hide from work. Once I had a fever and was trembling, my aunt still drained all the hot water to force me to take a bath with cold water and then stood outside the door and looked at it as if checking. I was so cold and scared that I couldn’t cry. At such times, I feel like a child who is not allowed to be weak, not allowed to hurt.

My aunt wouldn’t let me close the door to my room. Every night, I don’t have any privacy — my aunt opens the door, walks in, checks in, even rummages through my belongings, making me lose all sense of security. You can’t change clothes or relax in your own room without being observed. I feel like every sadness, every tear is considered a mistake. When I accidentally cried, my aunt made me wipe my tears on the floor with my shirt — making me feel humiliated and want to get to the ground.

Grandma, once I tried to tell you a story, but I was afraid that he would misunderstand or be busy, and then everything would continue. I’m also afraid that if you find out what I’ve told you, you’ll punish me more severely. I tried to hold back, tried to hide it so that my family wouldn’t be disturbed, but this was beyond my strength. I lost sleep, my studies declined, I found myself shrinking more and more, there was no laughter.

I am writing this letter to tell you two very important things: You need to be trusted and you need to be safe. I don’t write to slander anyone, I don’t want to cause trouble, I just want a peaceful corner to grow up, to eat enough, to sleep enough, to have a time to hug and say that I am afraid without being laughed at.