I have vivid memories of sitting in my 5th grade classroom being addressed by Child Protective Services.  They were talking to us about speaking up if someone was hurting us.  Now that I think about it, I'm not really sure why they were there.  Maybe it was customary, or maybe they had a tip.  But nonetheless, I was sitting there weighing my options.  If I say something, they might be able to help me.  But if they can't how can I ever go home?  This time she might kill me for real.  I sat there with fresh welts on my body from the night before.