They brought her to my door, dropped her off, and vanished. We were left on our own to survive the unthinkable. Before this beautiful girl even turned five, her life was a living horror film. Her birth mother—who drank and took drugs throughout her pregnancy—neglected her completely. Even during supervised visits inside the contact centre, the abuse was sickening. Her mother stabbed her tiny hand with a plastic fork just because she dribbled food in a high chair, and constantly smacked her face and hand. Because she wouldn’t stop wriggling, her mother violently dropped her outside, cutting her face, and slammed her head against the wall inside the contact centre. She even booted her in the back, picked her up by the shoulders, and violently shook her. At another contact visit, her mother tried to kidnap her, with a getaway car waiting with the doors open as she tried to run. I managed to step in and save her, and we had to be escorted safely to our car and taken home by a police escort. Contact has since been stopped.We had to travel two hours to get there and another two hours home every single time, yet her mother was never once on time. She would force my niece to drink fizzy pop and eat rubbish, while she stayed in bed or stood outside smoking cigarettes, completely ignoring the contact times. Worst of all, she shared photos of this innocent little girl with completely unknown men. The physical reality of what her birth mother did to her is permanent. Every single summer when the sun gives her a suntan, the scars her mother left behind become completely visible. You can see the fingernail marks all over her arms, torso, and legs, and one huge, long white scar that runs all the way from the top of her neck, along her back, and down across her side to the bottom of her back. The danger followed us home, too. Her mother even slashed my car tyres after a visit. I didn’t realize until the car started driving dangerously on the motorway—she could have killed us both. The trauma left my niece so physically sick she would vomit in the car every time we drove.She had been suffering horrific sexual abuse since she was about 5 or 6 years old. He had blackmailed her into staying silent, but it finally came out in 2022 when she told me. It took so much immense courage for her to speak up, but she did because she simply couldn't take any more and was so incredibly brave to tell me. We have been waiting four long years for a legal outcome. When the police stepped in, they took away her favorite childhood teddy bears for evidence. For months after they took them, she broke her heart crying every single night, unable to sleep without the only comfort she had ever known.We have never had a holiday together. I managed to scrape together and save my own money to get her a holiday after she survived all the grueling police interviews and a million questions. But because we couldn't get her grandmother’s maiden name, the passport I paid for was declined. I lost all my hard-earned money. I have been trying for 2 years and 3 months just to get those details for a passport, desperately trying to take her away for a break after all the trauma. Now, that saved holiday money has had to be spent on basic survival—bills, Christmas and birthday presents, and school stuff. We were left with zero financial help, and the struggle is immense with just the two of us.I am a disabled great-aunt, a grandmother to 3, and I am nearly 60 years old. I already raised my own children (the two eldest have left home), and I full-time look after my disabled son who has brain damage and cannot leave the house due to severe mental health struggles. Because of the endless hospital appointments and her severe illness, I cannot work. I don't drink, smoke, or go out to pubs or clubs. I have no friends left and I can't go anywhere; all of my old friends have a life now because their children grew up, and they are out living theirs. I am just stuck here in this house, just me and her, day in and day out. My own life is completely gone; I am in bed between 8 PM and 9 PM every single night at the exact same time as her, because my entire existence is for her. We deserve this chance. We truly do.My niece is now 11, but she has a much younger mind. Her body has been broken by a shocking list of medical battles. She lives with Double Diabetes (both Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes) and APS Type 3 (Autoimmune Polyendocrine Syndrome Type 3). Keeping her alive is a relentless, 24-hour battle. We get almost no sleep because her blood sugars wildly spike and crash through the night, requiring us to constantly step in and control it. Her days are a grueling cycle of constantly measuring out her food, calculating carbohydrates, and administering daily insulin boluses. It is just as difficult when she is at school; I am constantly messaging the staff back and forth telling them exactly what to do to keep her safe. Just a few months ago, she was rushed to the hospital with life-threatening Diabetic Ketoacidosis (DKA). It is a miracle she is still here today.Her health complications don't stop there. She battles Hashimoto’s hypothyroidism, asthma, dyslexia, poor eyesight, and painful Henoch-Schönlein purpura (HSP) which causes her hair and fingernails to fall out. She suffers from incontinence, which upsets her deeply. Her nights are already exhausting because she has to take multiple prescription tablets right before bed for her hypothyroidism and diabetes—and she is now transitioning onto a new, specialized formulation of a medication called Oxybutynin to help control her bladder with as few physical side effects as possible.When she lived with her mother, she used to suffer from a lot of fits. She was finally tested for epilepsy last year; though the tests showed 'peaks', the doctors said she was fine after a second check. Yet, she still suffers from terrifying, weird staring episodes where she will suddenly zone out and fall over. She is also currently undergoing further tests for cerebral palsy. She has long been treated by the specialists at Alder Hey Children’s Hospital for ongoing kidney issues, and now her body is facing a painful new battle. She has just been placed under the specialist Gynaecologist team after developing ovarian cysts. Just last week, a painful hemorrhagic cyst burst, forcing her back into a hospital bed for another traumatic stay, and we are now waiting for another emergency scan in a few weeks time.Her dyspraxia is so severe that she scored on the lowest possible percentile. She struggles so much physically; she cannot catch a ball, play tennis, or participate in games. She is under the care of speech therapists to help her communicate, but she still cannot even coordinate enough to follow along with a song properly, and she is forever falling over and hurting herself. She has no friends because the kids at school say she is 'different' and nine bullies beat her so badly she needed an MRI to check for a broken back. Carrying severe PTSD, anxiety, and body dysmorphia, she even tried to hang herself and take an insulin overdose last year because she couldn't cope with the darkness.The emotional damage is too heavy for a child to carry alone. She has been seen by Amethyst (The Sexual Assault Referral Centre) and has received specialist support from RASASC (The Rape and Sexual Abuse Support Centre) and a CYPSVA (Child and Young Person’s Sexual Violence Advisor). But the system is broken—you only get a few short sessions with these services before the funding runs out, and she is now stuck sitting on a massive waiting list all over again while desperately needing ongoing psychiatric care.She has lost everyone in the world. She only has me. I have lived in this house for nearly 30 years, and my ultimate dream would be to be able to buy this house so I know she is safe forever. My greatest fear is what happens to her when I am no longer on this earth. Anything could happen to me at my age, and my dream is that if her birth mother ever falls pregnant again, I can take on that baby too, so my brave girl will always have a sibling and will never, ever be left entirely alone in this life.Right now, I want to bring light into her world. I am fundraising for two dreams:A Magical Journey to See Santa: I want to take her away from the heavy trauma of her life and transport her to a magical, snowy wonderland to see Santa, giving her the joyful childhood memories she was robbed of.A Backyard Garden Summer House Hideaway: Because the outside world has been so cruel, I want to make our garden look beautiful and build a cozy cabin summer house in the back. This will be her ultimate independent hideaway. When she is feeling sick, overwhelmed, or anxious, she can escape to her secure cabin to watch her iPad or television in complete peace, away from me, giving her a safe haven to relax and heal.Every single penny raised goes directly to her travel and the raw cabin materials. Please share our story. Thank you for helping a little girl who has known so much darkness finally find peace."