My ex has my daughter. She’s been there for a while. Beyond what our custody agreement allows. My ex has been using her to manipulate me. To control what I’m doing, where I go, and even who I talk to. I’m heart broken. I miss her so much. Her laugh, her smile. I last saw her when she was 14 months old. At night I find myself staring at my empty living room, imagining her toddling across the floor with her chocolate covered face and toothy grin.

Sometimes I catch myself listening at her bedroom, waiting for a cry to signal to me that she’s awake. Only to have my heart drop when I remember her barren crib. I can’t even bring myself to clean up her room. There are toys and books strewn everywhere, clothes pulled from the few dresser drawers she could reach.

Even when I’m grocery shopping I find myself going down the baby aisles, subconsciously grabbing for snacks and diapers she won’t need. The other day I found one of her tiny hair ties in my pocket and cried for hours.

The police won’t help, CPS can’t step in. Even though it’s heartbreaking, I can’t get her back. Even though I never planned on being a parent, I never imagined the hole not having her would leave in my heart.

I got a box today, from my ex. It was filled with photos, the outfit she was wearing when I last saw her, even a lock of her hair and a baby tooth. When I opened it I could feel myself screaming in pain, even though the world around me deafened.

Tonight I plan on getting her back. With or without police help. I plan on waiting until everyone is asleep. Once the lights are off, I can sneak in the back door. The dogs still recognize me so I don’t think they will sound the alarm. Even if they tried, their silence was always easily bought with treats.

I still know the layout of the house like the back of my hand. Even after we started the divorce and I moved, my ex never cared for change. The furniture is all where I remember it, at least as far as I can tell from the pictures.

Once I get in the back door my daughter's bedroom is around the corner and to the left. The nightlights should still be there, making it easy to find my way in the dark. She never could sleep in the dark.

My ex is the wild card. Fiercely protective, and hypersentive. We live in a state with very loose gun laws, so every room in the house is like a small armory. If I get caught, I won’t make it back. But I am willing to take that risk to save my daughter.

I won’t have to worry about her crying, she’s never been loud. I just hope I can grab all of her. After the car accident six months ago, she’s not the same as she was. I think that’s the worst part of the photos my ex sent me, is seeing her decaying limbs propped up next to her. I’m debating on bringing the blanket she came home from the hospital wrapped in when she was born. The lock of hair I received still had part of her scalp attached, so I know she’s well into decomposition.

I’m done crying at an empty grave. Tonight I’ll finally be able to put her to bed, and I even got a battery powered night light. We live in a small town and when I told the police that her grave was disturbed they ignored me, said I was crazy with grief. Even if I get caught putting her back, at least I will know she’s finally resting. Tonight is the last time my ex will have to torment me.

I’m posting this just in case anything goes wrong. The box my ex sent me is on my kitchen counter, along with a detailed binder of everything that’s happened. I’m going to the store to get a shovel, and some daisies. They were always her favorite. I hope I can update this, but if I can't, hopefully they find me. I have a plot next to her. I bought it the week of her funeral. Even if I don’t make it, at least we will get one last nap together.