Child U’s mother’s statement continues, saying that despite the aftermath of the Southport attack being “unbearable,” she and her family were forced to endure it.

“This is our new reality,” she said.

She went on: “Because of what that man did, my daughter is changed forever.”

The young girl, her mum’s statement said, was unable to do everyday activities that young people usually do.

“She cannot be left alone because to her the world is unsafe. Other children do these things with joy and excitement. My daughter only feels anxiety and fear,” the inquiry was told.

‘Deep ongoing trauma’

“What she experienced has rocked her entire world,” the mum’s statement said. 

“It has removed her innocence and left her second-guessing everything and everyone,” the statement added.

The statement gave an example of this:

“When we attended a children’s Halloween disco, this being something she would have loved before, she saw a little boy in a fancy dress costume with a blood stained toy knife. 

“She became so distressed that she clung to me until I physically carried her out to the car and we left.”

A second example was given, too:

“She had to leave a Christmas pantomime because when the ‘bad man’ came in with a knife to kill Snow White: she couldn’t bear to watch the rest for fear of what she might have to see… again.”

The inquiry was told this was “more than just nerves,” but a “deep ongoing trauma.”

The statement said she had an “extreme and very specific fear of knives, real or fake,” and she couldn’t bear the sight of blood.

‘Unimaginable feelings of hurt and anxiety’

However, despite this, the mum, in her statement, said that when asked how her daughter is doing, she usually responds saying: “She’s doing okay thanks.”

“Because how do you explain to acquaintances that we are both experiencing unimaginable feelings of hurt, guilt and anxiety. 

“The grief of what she witnessed and of losing her best friend is something that haunts her. 

“It is always there both for her and me,” she said. 

It was added: “She carries the pain of survival. The confusion of being here when her friend is not. 

“There is guilt, there is sadness, there is a deep, heavy grief that she cannot name but clearly feels. 

“How do you explain to people when they ask that she still has nightmares, that some nights she wets the bed, that she asks for her bedroom light to stay on, and the door open. 

“That she must be constantly reassured that she is okay, that she is safe. 

“How do I tell people that at night she still begs Mummy to sleep with her?”