All The Things I can't Remember

I am surfing the web looking for a reflection
The garish neon green of new buds out my window looks wrong against the dull browns of wood and the cold greys of clouds reflected in water.
Every now and then I feel like crying, mourning for a little girl who I can't help. There is so much that I can't remember from my childhood. I only remember the way it made me feel. People ask me what was so bad about my father. I find it impossible to produce an answer in words. How do you express the incredible guilt and fear, confusion and desperation created in a child's heart through years of mental abuse and manipulation. The word brainwashing sounds to people like something out of a science fiction novel, a spy movie. They don't realize the real world applications it can have on a child when her torturer is one of the people she is supposed to trust and love more than anyone else, one of the people who is supposed to take care of her.