Daphodile

The Kidnapper

Once the red sash was properly tied and the bleeding was halted, I turn up to face him.

"We need to check on everyone outside. If there's even a chance anyone is alive we have to help them."

My eyes glance over the blocked staircase, knowing the only entry point to us is now the gardens. I wonder how long it's been since the initial blast; it feels like hours, but in reality the dust has just settled.

"Let's go." Alex says, stepping in pace beside me as we walked outside, under the light of the moon once more.

We walk past the first two or three rows of people that were closest to the blast because they were barely recognizable. The heat from the explosion scarred them and darkened their skin with char. It was horrific.

Once the faces of the people scattered on the ground became recognizable we both started to check for pulses and movement.

I glance at Alex as he starts bending down and looking at the faces of people on the ground, occasionally reaching down to gently move someone's shoulder and speak, and I do the same.

We seemed to have an unspoken agreement that he'll take the right side and I'll take the left, but I could barely start.

I walk through the freezing cold grass, my feet grazing rubble and ash as I walked, passing countless shadows of bodies, still and unmoving. My throat burned with sadness, trying to hold back the tears that wouldn't help the situation right now. I had to hold it together.

After passing dozens of people who were too far gone, I finally see someone who looks slightly better than everyone else and is seemingly farther away from the blast and closer to the outskirts of the garden where I was. It made me think they were out here when I was.

I approach swiftly, bending down, my hair dangling over the body and realize it's a little girl.

The tears in my throat escape, watering my face. My heart, already shattered into a million little pieces, somehow becomes pulverized at the sight of this child.

She was small, looking to be no more than 7 years old and was dressed in a small white and glittery ball gown and tiny white heels to match. You could tell she wanted to look like a princess and I could imagine her smile as she danced with her parents, laughing in her beautiful gown. She was so tiny.

Taking a breath I shakily press my hand to her ash ridden cheek, softly speaking to her, "You're so beautiful, little princess." I take my fingertips and slowly drag the brown curly hair out of her face revealing her small dainty cheeks. I felt as though I could break right then and there.

I press my hand to her neck, feeling for a pulse, hoping and wishing for any sign of life. My heart roared with pain as the seconds tick by, and for some reason I don't want to give up hope on this little girl so easily, and the belief that I can save her spreads like a virus inside me. So I try.

I gently press my hands on her chest, slightly doing compressions and then checking her breathing, seeing if I could feel her breath against my face as I lean over her. I keep a steady rhythm, feeling her small body rise and fall with the pressure of my hands trying to pump life back into her. I don't even realize that I'm sobbing, messily and frantically, above her until I hear my name being called and then a soft touch on my shoulder appears.

"Princess-" A hand gently grazes my right exposed shoulder, and I shove it away.

"I'm going to save her." I say, focusing as much as I could on the compressions I was doing. 1,2,3,4.

"Daphodile, I don't think-" his voice was soft and ragged, begging me kindly to give up.

"Get away from me." I say, slightly under my breath as I bend down to try and feel her own; waiting a beat before going back to pumping her chest.

"Princess, please-" another light touch on my shoulder. I feel an unknown source within me spew anger, hot through my veins, at his pitying voice. Why was he doing this. Keeping me from saving her.

I spin, and stand up, my eyes cold.

"I said get away from me!" I shout, shoving him away, the palms of my hands colliding with his bare chest making him step backwards, as if to show him what he was supposed to do. Like this I say with my hands, back up. What would my parents do if they saw me now, so unregal.

He takes a step back, slightly off balance and then looks at me with even more pity, his eyes full of the things he wants to say, and as I go to fight his sadness with my rage something makes me freeze.

His face snaps from sad to shocked-possibly even scared-his eyes widening and his jaw tightening; he was looking at something behind me. I could tell he spotted trouble.

I stop in place and freeze suddenly, now noticing the warmth behind my back, the sudden feel of body heat in the middle of this cold dark never ending night.

"Nice to finally meet you flower." A deep and mocking male voice rings out from behind me, his breath warm against my skin. My body screamed out with fear making my limbs stick in place. I wish I wasn't so scared, but the corpses around me scream to be very still- that this guy was dangerous.