Kissed By The Moon

CHAPTER 1: Blue Eyes

"Daddy! Daddy!" a six-year-old me screams into the near empty warehouse, fear coursing through my body, trying hopelessly to free myself from the ropes that are tied so hard around my wrists and ankles that every movement I make likely draws blood.

"Daddy! Daddy!" one of the masked men holding me hostage mimics before bursting into hysterics.

This is my first kidnapping so it's normal to be scared. I'm sure my parents are too, that's who the masked monster said was on the phone when he told me to yell, or he'd kill me.

I don't really understand death at this age, not in the sense he seemed to present it. Not as a consequence of disobedience. "If you don't do as I say, you die." I can't make sense of it. Because right now I don't understand that he doesn't mean I would spontaneously drop dead, that instead he means he would kill me. Still, I obey. Because regardless of how death is to come, I don't want to die.

I scream and cry well after he hangs up. Well after he gets annoyed, gets up and slaps me across the face with the back of his hand which twists my neck and makes me bite my cheek. I scream and cry until I have no voice, and even after that, although it's no longer a scream, I still try to call out. I want to try my best. My best to be saved, to live. I want to tell my parents that I did my best. That's why even when the ropes are making my ankles and wrists bleed, I still try to break free. Even when the pain of screaming and crying and trying becomes too much and I get very tired, I still do my best.

"Shut up! I Swear to fucking God if you don't shut up you will die right now!" the faceless man yells at me. There he goes again talking about dying. How will screaming for help make me die? I'm sure if I don't get help, I'll die. I think about his words for a moment and decide that I was going to die if I didn't yell for help and I was going to die if I did, but at least if I yelled for help, I'd die trying my best. I resume screaming, well at least trying to, and the man gets up and heads towards me, strides long and intentional. He gets to me and starts slapping me again and again and again, telling me be quiet. But how can I? I'm in pain. So, I cry lounder and that seems to turn the slaps into punches.

Then, almost as quickly as this assault escalated, it stops. I'm in too much pain to focus my eyes, and I'm very tired, but I see shadows falling around me. The other men in the warehouse, I think they were about 3 or 4 are lying on the ground. The man with no face notices this and tries to put his fingers around my throat, but he falls too. Right before my feet. I look down at him and see a burning hole in his head and his bright blue eyes looking right at me. I want to start screaming again, but my body doesn't have any more power, so I decide to sleep just for a short while. Then I'll try again.

I wake up on a bed in a bright room. I know I'm not dead. Heaven doesn't look like this. I almost forget that I'm supposed to scream again, but when I remember I start crying. I don't want to keep screaming. I'm still tired. My crying gets lounder until someone next to me wakes up and looks at me. They look blurry through the tears. But their voice tells me exactly who it is.

"Sweetheart you're awake! Hi baby. It's okay. Don't cry. I'm right here. Titus she's awake." That's mom.

"Princess? Princess! Get the doctor! Get the fucking doctor! It's alright angel, don't cry. Mommy and Daddy are right here." Dad.

I try my best to be good and stop crying, but I can't. I cry more. I don't know why. They don't stop trying to comfort me until the doctor comes.

I stay in the hospital for some days, but I don't know how many. My mom says I didn't wake up for 3 days after they found me so I had to stay in the hospital for longer so the doctor could "monitor my progress". I try to be patient, but I just want to go home. When they finally let me leave, I'm pushed in a wheelchair even though I can walk. It's a little silly but the nurse is nice and pretty, so I don't laugh in her face. I want her to like me, even if I'm leaving.