Kidnapped!(Zonera) That picture still brought painful memories of the past to me, souvenirs of the last of my little Emma. The blonde toddler in cute dungarees and bunches posing at me, her welcoming smile toasting my heart was once mine. My child. Until she was kidnapped, brutally shaken by the shocking reality of life. And my so-called, coward of a husband? Ran away in disgrace and shame. I'm a loner for life. It all happened like this...

Emma bounded into the living room after the trip to the park, all smiles, as happy as she could be. Tom, her father, stumbled lazily after her torrent of happiness, clearly disgruntled by the fact he had been disturbed from his evening nap. "Mummy, mummy! A great big doggy licked my face and I sat on his back, and he gave me a free ride to the..." She bounded up and down the stairs, her face red with happiness. I gently picked her up, and the tired five year old snuggled sleepily into my chest, one arm around my neck. Her blonde hair, shoulder length, blossomed with the sweet aroma of baby shampoo, and her tiny, clenched fists were red with the whip of the wind from outside. "Tom, where you going?" I turned my attention to my forever-sleepy husband, who was halfway up the stairs. He didn't bother to give me a reply, a lazy grunt was enough to know he was up in his bed again. Sighing, I tucked Emma up in her pearly-pink bedroom, kissing her smooth, soft forehead and loosening her bunches. I looked around the house with utter agony. Tom had left his remains of what as once a whole fridge of beer, and cigarette butts. Emily's toys were carelessly scattered across one side of the room, and there seemed to be a mountain of washing up to do after Tom's mates had come around for booze and a mirthless, heated game of cards. Sigh. I switched on the iron and tossed Toms dirty, creased shirt onto it, which adorned a VERY rude word. I slammed my iron onto its sleeve and slashed it back and forth across the cloth, a blanket of steam wafting in the air. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I always HATED that mirthless sound...DING DONG. Slamming the iron onto the ironing board, I stormed off in a rage to answer it. RING RING. Ugh, the phone! I halted in my tracks, and stomped off in the other direction.

A wail emitted from Emma's room, and Tom yelled a VERY bad word. I opened the door with a torrent of fury, but the anger soon melted as I saw the man standing there. A long, silky black coat hung from his shoulders, his gleaming boots winked with polish, a hat tilted in one direction, and brown, glossy hair protruded from underneath. My, his eyes, dark blue like the swaying of the sea, seemed so deep and milky; I could stay there all day.

He beckoned to me with a long pointy finger. I leaned closer. Somewhere inside, Emma wailed again, this time more urgently and loudly. I didn’t move. I breathed in his heavenly, aroma and smiled. “Let me in, young damsel. I can help you.” I didn’t need any more persuasion to step aside as I let him in. Oh, how I wish I could have gone back in time and stopped it there! Then, everything happened too fast. I knew he was trouble when I saw that mischievous glint in his eye as he stepped over the threshold. Swallowing, I said “I-I’ll just call my husband, let him know we have a visit…Oh!”

A knife was being pressed against my throat, his once handsome face twisted into one of anger. Anger and puce stole onto his wrinkled face, and his malicious eyes burned against his pale skin. I hardly dared to breathe, pressed against the wall. “Don’t…you…dare…tell anyone about this…or…” He pressed the shiny, blunt edge of the knife harder into my throat, and I suppressed silent tears and wills of Tom to come down. “Waaaaaaaah! Mommy! Mom? MOM?!” I gasped silently inside myself with shock. Emma! She shuffled sleepily forward in her cute bunny onesie, Lily Rabbit (her toy rabbit) clutched close to her chest. Emma’s voice trailed away, and when she saw the knife and the stranger; her eyes widened with horror. A mirthless smile stole onto his face and he turned to look at my Emma.

This was my moment. With a deep breath, I thrust my leg hard onto the intruder’s thigh. He let out an ear-piercing shriek and collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air. The knife dropped onto the floor, next to my foot. I safely thrust it to a corner, and ran to Emma, who as in tears-her whole body shaking with fright. With all my might, I screamed and shouted for help, and FINALLY heard the groggy footsteps of Tom coming down. The intruder staggered to his feet again, infuriated. I pushed Emma upstairs, out of the way, into Tom’s arms. I thought he would defend us, fight the thief, but he took a step away from me, Emma clutching his trousers. I gulped with utter fright, my heart banging inside my chest. The thief ran at me again, but I lunged sideways with astonishing agility. How long would this keep going? He’s catch me soon, I thought, panicking. He’s bigger and stronger.

Clutching the radiator tip with my fingernails, I suddenly had an inspiration. I suddenly made a break for the living room, where the ironing board was. He staggered after me, limping badly. A grubby hand snaked its way over my mouth, but I bit it, hard. I’d win this, for my little Emma, for myself, for Tom. Growling, he made a lunge for me again, and this time he’d got me. I stuttered and reeled on my feet, as a hard blow smashed against my face. He’d got me this time. There was no escape. Pinned against the ground with one heavy foot, and Tom and Emma watching fearfully from the upstairs balcony, the thief laughed. “Malcolm is my name, and you better remember it when you go to heaven, my dear.” He laughed a mirthless, horrible laugh. Praying to God inside my head, I made all sorts of compromises that I’d do this and that if only I lived. And if my dear little Emma wouldn’t have had those sharp teeth, I would be dead by now. “OUCH! What the heck?” Emma brought down five sharp, gleaming teeth into Malcolm’s fat leg, and once again, he fell to the floor with an almighty thud.

I saw my chance. Pushing Emma out of the way, I grabbed the steaming hot iron triumphantly over the gasping victim. Like a rabbit caught in a cars headlight, he peeped at me between quaking fingers fearfully. Emma gasped with shock. I looked around for Tom, but he was nowhere to be seen. Little rascal. Covering Emma’s eyes, I raised the steaming hot iron above my head, one foot pressed down hard on Malcolm’s body, but at that exact moment, Emma’s bunny, Lily Rabbit, fell onto the floor, momentarily distracting me. Why did I ever buy her that toy? Why? Malcolm rolled over as quick as a flash as I was distracted, and leapt up. This time, he didn’t bother to fight me. He knew I would beat him anyhow. He did the most surprising thing. Malcolm shot to the front door, so fast that sparks could be seen emitting from his Doc Martins. Then, grabbing his bag, he made as though to walk through the door. Then, he doubled back, and grabbed Emma by the middle. She screamed and kicked, trying to prise his strong, robust hands off her. I screamed, making a run to stop him disappearing out of the door. Emma’s bunches bobbed up and down, her once angelic face a mixture of pain and fright. Tears streamed down her face, as she desperately tried to get a hold of me. Malcolm grinned and gave me such a punch in the stomach, that it sent me flying through the air into the end wall, a huge bruise adorning my sodden face. I staggered helplessly towards the door…to see Malcolm forcing Emma into a strap. A suppressed wail emitted from her mouth. “I love you Mummy! Mummy…”All that was left of Emma as they drove off into the distance, was her despairing echo of a suppressed scream. All that was left of my daughter, my little angel. I allowed myself to slide down the wall, as my breath caught noisily in my throat. Tom. Tom. He was gone, just like Emma, another precious gem, gone from my life, gone from my memory. I sat sobbing, scraping my fingernails against the floor, tears dripping around me in huge puddles. How could this happen to me? In one day?

I went back to stroking the little blonde toddler in bunches wearing cute dungarees, as happy as she could be. “I love you, my little Emma, and you remember that, my dear.” Kissing the photo, I placed it inside its metal frame and clasped it against my heart, which is where she will stay forever, my little Emma. Bless her.

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