I Know What You Are: Part 2 of 3: The true story of a lonely little girl abused by those she trusted most. Jane Smith
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often in one form or another – that made me feel like I was always walking on eggshells with Naseer and with his friends.
Eventually, I learned that it really was better to say nothing at all. As I became used to feeling like the invisible member of their group, I actually turned my head if someone did talk to me, to look over my shoulder at the person I expected to see standing behind me who they were actually addressing. I wanted to be with them because I wanted to be with someone. But because they didn’t seem to see me as another human being like them, I began to feel as though I really wasn’t a real person anymore.
I slept at home every night and would get up at about 10 or 11 every morning to go to the park, where I would read my book while I waited for Naseer to wake up and text me to tell me what time to meet him. His flat was in a tower block on a council estate that must have been grim even 50 years ago when it was built. I usually got there at about 5 p.m., so that we could have sex before he went to work. Afterwards, he would turn away from me on to his side and fall instantly asleep. Then I would lie on my
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