She sat on her bed, her knees pulled up infront of her, snuggling into the quilt, listening.

Listening to the joy in her mums voice when they would sing together at Christmas, the love in her voice when her mum spoke of her dad in those first years.

Listening to the angry shouts that echoed from her dad, the sobs from her mum and the anguished cries that escaped when he hit her. She wasn't supposed to no that he hit her, but she did, because she was listening when he apologized every morning after.

Listening to the happiness as her mum would talk of work and 'Uncle Gil', how just saying his name cheered her up, the way his voice could sooth and comfort her.

Listening to the gentleness in his voice, so different to her father's, when he would tell her that it would be okay, that he would look after her and her mum, how he whispered that he loved them and would keep them safe.

Listening, always listening.

She never wanted to have to listen to her mum cry again, And from her bed she could hear the two adults downstairs. She sat there listening to their quiet whispers and sudden bursts of laughter. As long as 'Uncle Gil' was there, she knew that all she would have to be listening to was laughter and joy.

Hey, so what did you think, sorry its soooooo short but I couldn't think of another POV and as Lindsey was so young there wasn't much she could have listened to, but I wrote it anyway. Please r/r and include any ideas you have about whose POV I could do next.