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Prologue
She stared at the closed eyes of the sleeping newborn, imagining the mysterious liquid bronze eyes beneath his lids. He had spent most of his three days sleeping, whether in the arms of his mother or herself. It didn't seem to matter where, just in the arms of someone who gave him warmth and protection.
The nurse glanced at her watch, which read 3:23 in the afternoon. It had been twenty whole minutes since the boy's mother asked to use the restroom and she hadn't once heard it flush through the thin white hospital walls.
Maya knocked softly on the bathroom door and nothing happened. "Taylor?" She asked and still nothing happened. Her hand turned the knob slowly and surprising her to see it give lightly, too easily, as if it had not been locked. She gasped in complete horror, causing the small child to stir.
Taylor's overnight bag was gone, along with her belongings. Not a single trace was left of her existence, even the water from her shower was cleaned up. And the window was opened with a piece of cut rope hanging out that was tied to the towel rack.
Not even thirty minutes later, the hospital was crowded with police cars along with their German Sheppard and either golden retrievers or yellow labs. The rope had been removed and stuck inside a sealed plastic bag after pictures were taken from every angle possible, in both black and white along with colored.
She had been asked many questions and only did they stop when her voice became hoarse, dropping an octave. All but one of the most important questions were answered, the question she asked herself many times previously.
What would become of Taylor's, now no where to be found, child?
The Boy
He sat in his room, not making a single noise as he stared up at the fan with a blank expression. Again he was lost in his thoughts, dreaming about his biological parents, something that had become an addicting habit ever since he knew, six years ago when he was all but nine.
This time, he imagined them living in a medium class house, his family rich enough to support him and maybe even a little sister. The whole family would spend time together; out to have dinner, a family game night or sitting in front of the TV watching the Super Bowl together. The same way a normal family would do.
It’s not like I don't have something good, he reminded himself. For all he knew, he could be in an orphanage inside a place where no cared for you, not even yourself. No, thankfully, he had someone to live with even if he couldn't bring himself to them mom and dad in the fifteen years he's lived with them.
 esist · Thu Mar 18, 2010 @ 02:50am · 0 Comments |
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