"It's good news. We got him!"

How is that good news? Will it bring my father back? With his kind words and his sympathetic ear? Will it bring my mother back? With her soft laugh and gentle smile?

Putting that petrified and desperate man behind bars, what good will that do? The worst has already happened. I am already lost and alone, stuck at the bottom of the well. Only this time, there is no kindly father to pull me out and wish away my nightmares. And the bats are all around me, fluttering at my head and my arms. Their squeaking voices pierce my ear drums with their constant rhythm. "It's all your fault." "You killed them." "They'll never hold you again."

And I know they're right, and that's what hurts the most.