It's certainly not a big leap of imagination.
I'm reminded of a story. Everyday, a boy, about 16, comes home. Across the street, he sees this little girl standing on her front porch, as if she's waiting for him. Everyday, something is wrong with her: a black eye, a bloody lip. Her eyes beg him for help, but he's too caught up in his own teenage crap to notice or care.
One day, she's not there anymore. Her mother threw her through a plate glass window.
The boy is torn apart by guilt. He goes to the funeral. He sees her dad. First time he's ever seen a grown man cry.
Mom goes off to an asylum, all the while wondering what all the fuss is about. After all, she has to pay for a new window.
Chilling that it happens. Chilling that it happens every day. Chilling that people let it happen.