Wanted

(PROLOGUE)

"Please Daddy, one more chapter?" I pleaded, opening my eyes wide and doing my saddest puppy dog face. I held up my favorite book. Dad smiled and glanced at his watch.

"I'm sorry Sapph, but it's past your bedtime and I need to go downstairs and lock up the cafe," he said in an exhausted but friendly voice, planting a kiss on my forehead and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Goodnight Daddy," I said, not feeling very tired.

"Sleep tight sweetheart," he said with one last smile, and then he disappeared into the hall. I heard the loud sounds of his feet clumping down the stairs to go lock up the family restaurant that we lived above.

I turned to my side and stared out my window at the moon, a bright white sphere illuminating the city. My eyes started to droop and I was slowly drifting to sleep when it happened.

It all happened too fast. I heard yelling of strangers and a few loud bangs. I bolted out of bed when i heard the scream that belonged to my father. I met Mom in the hall, her hair messy and my eleven month old sister Evelyn tucked into her shoulder. I met her panicked hazel eyes that told me not to go downstairs. But I had to, I had to make sure my father was okay. I forced myself not to think that the impossible happened- that my dear father had slipped away. I held onto my last shred of hope that he was alive and well. I raced down the hall, shoving off my mother's tugs and pleads for me to stay. The sight that I saw down in the restaurant was beyond horrible.

Tables and chairs lay upturned and broken on the floor, vases of flowers lay shattered in puddles of water. The windows were smashed and glass lay everywhere. Peering over to the kitchen, my heart leapt when I noticed a flickering orange light. It looked as if all of the food had been taken.

There were two strange men in the room, not seeming to notice me. They wore ski masks and heaved sacks full of stolen goodies. I wanted to attack them on the spot, to rip out their hair and kick them in the soft spot. But I was just a helpless six year old girl, unable to rescue her family's place of business. What kind of horrible people would do such a thing?

But the worst sight of them all lay on the tiled floor in near the kitchen counter. It was the body of my father, lifeless and covered in blood.

"DAD!!" I screamed, rushing over and kneeling next to him. I placed my hands on his chest and shook, trying to make him wake up some how. My hands got drenched with blood.

I froze when I realized that I had caught the attention of the strangers. They looked at me, chuckling. I glared back, so unbelievably angry. My father was gone, and it was because of them. I screamed some words at them, words I've heard some teenagers that sometimes loiter around the front of the restaurant. They weren't good words, and I could tell because that was probably the last thing they would expect a six year old girl to scream at the murderers of her father.

One of the men returned my glare, slowly walking closer.

"Someone has a naughty mouth, eh little girl?" he murmured, his face inches from mine. I smelled alcohol on his breath. Furious, I stomped on his foot and spit in his face. His buddy took out a shotgun, probably the same one that killed my father.

"Look, kid-" he started angrily, but he was cut off by police sirens. Outside of the broken windows three police cars pulled up to the curb. The man who threatened me repeated some of the bad words I'd said, and together they hopped out of the window and disappeared into the alley.

I suppose I should have been angry that they got away with all of our food and silverware, but surprisingly I wasn't mad at anyone. My mind, my world was filled with despair and loss. I leaned my head on the cold, bloody chest of my father and cried, staring into his blank blue eyes that flickered with the light of the fire in the kitchen.