chapter 2 : My kidnapping
1138 Words
One afternoon, as my mother and I sat in silence, trying to adjust to our new life, there was a knock at the door. A man we didn’t recognize stepped inside.
"Good afternoon," he greeted us as he entered politely.
"Good afternoon," my mother replied, her voice cautious but warm. "How can we help you?" she asked.
"I’ve come to see the head of this household. Is he home?" he inquired.
My mother’s face immediately darkened. "My husband has passed away," she said softly, inviting him to sit.
The man looked startled, clearly unaware of my father’s death. "Oh... my deepest condolences, madam. What a terrible loss," he said, lowering his head respectfully.
"Thank you," my mother replied, her voice still heavy with grief.
The man sat there for a moment, silent and seemingly disappointed. After a while, he stood up to leave. But as he turned toward the door, something stirred inside me. I couldn’t let him walk away without trying to help.
"What illness does your brother suffer from?" I asked, breaking the silence.
"He’s had severe lung problems for some time now. We’ve been to several hospitals, but nothing has helped. The doctors say his lungs are too damaged, and he struggles to breathe."
I nodded. "If you can come back tomorrow afternoon, I will prepare some remedies for him," I offered.
He looked at me, surprised but grateful. "Thank you very much!" he said.
After he left, my mother looked at me, both concerned and proud.
"What? I just want to help," I explained. "I think that’s what Papa would have wanted."
"Yes... I know it better than anyone," she said with a small smile, her eyes filling with tears. "I am proud of you. You’re becoming a strong woman with a kind heart. Keep it up, my child."
I smiled back at her, my heart swelling with both sadness and determination.
Later that day, I went to my father’s small traditional pharmacy. He had carefully stored and dried most of the plants, grinding them into powders that could be preserved for long periods. I gathered what I needed and prepared the remedy as he had taught me.
The next afternoon, the man returned, just as we had agreed.
"Good evening," he greeted me.
"Good evening," I replied, handing him the package I had prepared.
"Thank you so much."
"You must give him this remedy three times a day," I instructed. "Mix it into his porridge. You’ll see—it’s very effective."
"Thank you, young lady," he said, reaching into his pocket to offer me money.
"No, thank you. There’s no need for payment."
"I insist. Just to show my appreciation," he said, still holding out the money.
"You can thank me when he’s cured. That will be enough. Safe travels," I smiled.
"Thank you again!" he replied before leaving.
Two days later, at dawn, we were awakened by the sound of gunshots. Panic gripped the entire village—another attack. My mother and I quickly locked all the doors, hoping that staying inside would keep us safe. But the gunfire grew louder and closer.
"Oh God, please protect us," my mother whispered, her voice shaking.
"What do they want this time?" I murmured, terrified.
"God is great, my daughter. Keep faith," she whispered back, trying to calm us both.
After some time, an eerie silence fell over the village. We thought they had left. But then, we heard pounding at the door.
"Open up!" a man shouted.
"Who are you?" my mother called out, her voice trembling.
"You’ll know soon enough. Open the door before we break it down!" he threatened.
My mother whispered frantically, "What do they want with us?"
Before we could react, they forced the door open and stormed into the house. There were six of them—big, muscular men, heavily armed. With them was a young girl from our neighborhood, Amina, whom they were dragging along roughly.
"What do you want?" my mother demanded, trying to shield me.
"We came for your daughter," one of them growled, grabbing my arm and yanking me forward. He turned to Amina and asked, "Is this the girl?"
"Yes," Amina answered, her voice hesitant and frightened.
"What do you want from me?" I asked, my voice trembling.
"Nothing personally," the man replied coldly. "We have orders to take you with us."
"Leave my daughter alone!" my mother cried, throwing herself between us.
"We don’t have time for this, madam," he said, pushing her roughly aside.
Both my mother and I started screaming for help. Another man pulled out his weapon and pointed it at us.
"You clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with. Be quiet!" he barked.
"Please, I beg you, let my daughter go!" my mother sobbed, pleading desperately.
The man said nothing. Instead, he lifted me up and began dragging me toward the door.
"No! Nooo!" I screamed, struggling as hard as I could.
My mother grabbed the leg of the man carrying me. Furious, he stabbed her violently. She collapsed to the ground, bleeding heavily.
"Mama!" I screamed, breaking free and rushing to her side. "Mama, please! Answer me, Mama!"
But another man came over. "We don’t have all day," he said coldly. He stabbed her again, this time fatally. These men were nothing but monsters. Without hesitation, he also stabbed Amina and threw her to the ground like a piece of trash.
Before I could react, the man grabbed me by force, dragged me outside, and threw me into their waiting car. The others jumped in and started driving off at full speed.
Inside the vehicle, I kept fighting and screaming, punching and kicking them with all my strength.
"Why are we keeping this girl alive anyway?" one of them asked.
"Because the boss ordered it. He wants her alive," another replied coldly.
"You killed my mother... my only family!" I screamed, my voice breaking with grief.
"It was to sever your ties to that pathetic village," one of them sneered.
"Yeah. Now you have no reason to go back," another added, laughing cruelly.
They were heartless. My mother had been slaughtered like an animal, and now they were taking me to an unknown destination.
One of the men sitting next to me had a knife. In a moment of desperation, I managed to grab it without him noticing. But before I could strike, he caught my hand.
"You little b***h! What do you think you’re doing?" he growled, tightening his grip.
He raised his hand to hit me, but another man stopped him. "Calm down. Don’t hurt her—you know how the boss is."
The first man hesitated, then took out a handkerchief and pressed it over my mouth. I struggled for a few seconds before the world around me faded into darkness.
To be continued
- Writer
