The Weight of Scales

Chapter Six

A gold orange rising from the east. Waking up the nearby wild creatures.

An old man, wearing his black coat, with his best coffee brown newsboy flat cap. While holding both his wooden cane and a long metal stick, with a hook on top to diffuse the candles.

Small handful of townspeople left their homes. Walking to their occupations. Either holding leather handbags, carrying books, or just a simple purse.

The morning breeze briskly made its way through the streets, cold to the touch. Tree leaves still turning into different variations of oranges. Piles upon piles of fallen leaves in front yards. Small decorations clinging to every little corner of the town. Quite indicating the season has started to change. People seeking coats for warmth. The seasonal pumpkin harvest. Barrels upon barrels of apple cider. The smell of cinnamon sticks filling everyone's nostrils.

It was a delightful morning.....

AH!

A high pitch squeal came from the down the street. Nearby neighbors rushing to the scene. Mothers holding their children close.

Women brought a weeping woman out of her home. Taking her away from the scene that took place inside. Shaking out of fear and distraught. Constantly looking around. Weaving her head back and forth through the crowd. Asking the same question over and over again.

"Where's my baby?"

"Where's my baby?"

Sobbing each time the weeping woman asked. The other ladies wrapped their arms around, giving her any sort of comfort. While others went inside the house.

There was one room out of the entire house that was in shambles. Small floating wall shelves appeared on the floor. With books open, and everywhere. Toys scattered across the floor. Small clothing for a toddler was also scattered around the room. The second story window was still closed. Still locked. And untouched. But the small bed was as well, untouched. Not a single odd thing. No blood. No lubricants. Just a pillow, and a messy blanket.

To which leads the question for everyone in this town; where did this child go?

————

Birds chirping out the window. Small instances of the breeze making its way inside the room. Only the morning sunlight lighting the room up. A bundled up blanket covering the short individual in her queen sized bed. Soundly asleep. The deeply needed rest from barely getting any from traveling. Thoughts of last night had washed away. No lingering feelings for one another.

Eyes finally fluttering open from the touch of sunlight. Looking up to see the sky out the window. Still tucked in the warm blanket. Not a sudden urge to leave.

Knock....Knock....

Who could possibly be knocking at my door, at this hour? She thought to herself. Upon shifting herself to sit up right. Lifting her arms up, and behind to stretch. Grumbling from leaving her comfort. Fixing her slightly messy hair. Casually sliding off of the bed. Her bare feet touching the cold hardwood floors. Eventually making her way over to the door.

When opening the door. There was nobody there.

Peeking her head out of the doorway. Looking over, she caught sight of the same blond woman from the night before. Hair was up in a neat ponytail. Wearing a snatched up mid-length dark purple dress. At least an inch or two white frills were sewn at the hemline. The shoulder pads were slightly puffed out. Makeup was touched up. Fingers were fiddling with each other.