Where are you Bianca Lynox?

Chapter One

 This story has not been edited so bare with me for any errors.
Rachel
Alone and deserted that is how she felt and everyday was just the same it felt like a chore that she had to complete. Everything was weighing heavily on her and the mundane things also felt like a chore. She dreaded every sunrise because everyday she resided deeper into the darkness. She was at a point where humanity, kindness and humility did not exist in her dictionary. She was bitter towards the gods and fate for forsaking her and robbing her off her happiness. She had looked everywhere, turned every stone but none seemed promising that her charming barely a year old baby never seemed to heed to her call. Today she would have turned eight and like every mother who had lost their kids in all tragedies and traumas she cursed the heavens again. Why was it that no one took heed to her pain?

Her heart was bleeding and everyday she did not see a reason to rise but lingered on the hope of one day. Though the one day seemed far because she had slipped to the sour moods and was cynical to every hope man had. She kept pushing, doubled her best investigators that money could buy but none had a lead on anything or anyone. But how do you look for something you never saw? She never saw the one who took her. She could only remember the funny walking guy and even him too faded in her mind as years went by. She had the cry every mother dreaded, the cry of loosing her baby. The worst was the fact that she had no idea whether to grieve or keep hoping that whoever took her will return her safely. She huffed. So much for being cynical. Such thoughts have never happened. It was like believing in unicorns knowing all too well they do not exist. She has never believed in fairy tales and she was far from being delusional.

Where was she? When did she anger the heavens to cause her so much pain and as if that was not enough her husband opted to divorce her on the basis that she was careless and had lost their child. How she dreaded that day. How she wished she could rewind back time and make amends. She now drowns her sorrows in liquor because it was easy to forget when you are high and it is another to relive those moments every year. She had two anniversaries to mark on her calender one was when she had breathed life in her kid and the other was the day she was taken away. Damn! What else was she supposed to do to please her tormentors? She had given out to charity, gone to church on several occasions, did her confessions had given away a lot of tithes but that did not seem to please the big man above. She was beyond hoping, beyond salvation.

She now gets wasted on alcohol and it is hardly called a party without her ecstasy. And as the years progressed it was the same tradition for the two anniversaries. Then she would visit the grave within which her dear mother was laid and rant to her hearts content then head home. Yet today she did not feel like following throw with the same tradition she needed to honour her baby in the right state of mind. She was grasping at straws and she knew it. She would not make it past midday without the throbbing pain in her heart and the need to reach for the hard liquor. She had tried to refrain from using hard drug, enrolled in an AA (Alcoholic anonymous) and had to sit through the never ending meetings as all the other addicts went on and on about their struggles. In between listening she realised it was not the group for her so she decided against it and went rogue. She was depressed to say the least. Through her struggles and pain she started establishing herself. She started her own company from the little hefty cash she got from her husband after the divorce. He was considerate enough to let his wealth land on her 'to keep her from drowning' as he put it. He was disgusted by her and loathed her and for the life of her she couldn't forget the looks he spared her. She understood his pain. Bianca was his gem. He had planned his bright future for her and in between she had vowed to stop him from making her a spoilt brat. She sighed.

It had been eight years since she heard from him so much for 'till death do us apart' they should include 'till my baby is stolen' part. She was grieving too after all she gave birth to her nursed her, fed her and she could still remember how good it felt to watch as she suckled but all her husband saw was an irresponsible mother and a careless wife. It hurt and she became a bitter person. When she turned to her family they turned her away not that she needed any telling. She see could that she was burdening them with her pain. They kept calling her and there but that too got boring because they were just keeping up appearances not that they cared. Then her business started booming and suddenly everyone remembered her so she turned her coat and became the wicked witch in the west.

She snuggled deeper into her covers for comfort she had taken the day off and it felt nice to know that the bed still held on to her despite witnessing her break downs and mendings though not completely but she was trying. She looked at the minibar across her master bedroom and contemplated on the urge to pop the bottle. Her doctor had informed her that she was trending so close to the line of being diagnosed by liver cancer. She did not like the sound of that. Though she wanted to die, she was not ready yet and wanted to see her baby before she did. She touched her chest on the left just below her shoulder where the tattoo was. It was a tattoo of a baby in angel's arms mostly it was a tattoo drawn by those who miscarried but she felt it was better drawn on her. It felt like she had lost her and she could not forget the green colour of her eyes. They were those of her fathers. She spent hours and hours in her studio painting and repainting the face of her child. It is true as her tattoo said 'forever in my heart and never in my arms' because she had her baby for only eight months. She was still trying to walk. Barely making a stand on her feet. She was certain when she found her she would change the 'never' to 'always'. Her phone chimed and she sulked one she saw the message. She was not interested in anything the butler had to say. She knew it was a way of john alerting her that he would be up in her room in five minutes. It was days like this that they would tiptoe around her. She was a ticking bomb and everyone tried to be on her good graces. True to his word a knock was heard and seconds later John let himself in.

"Good morning madame. breakfast is served to your liking. Bread is extra toasted, the bacon extra crisp. The fruits well diced and the juice well pressed and fresh as you like it. The cold meats and the eggs were poached to your liking as well." he smiled broadly as she groaned and sunk deeper into her covers.

"I am not hungry John." As she was done saying it, some shuffling of feet were heard before a group of three well dressed men in suit paraded her food on the far end of her room and left immediately after uttering their good mornings. She huffed.

"You are impossible."

"Then stop being difficult and eat before I become unbearable." he smiled again. She stood and wiped her teary eyes that she had not realised were shedding in her reverie until John made an appearance. She sulked as she made her way to the small dining and plopped herself to the chair unceremoniously like a child.

"I should fire you." she threw him a glare as he still grinned and walked over to draw the curtains.

"Already did for the past couple of years. You have been firing me ever since you employed me." He the made his way to the double doors before turning and telling her.

"Do enjoy your breakfast and there is someone here to see you." With that he was out of her room. She silently munched on her food pondering on who was in her house downstairs.