saving darcy h.s.

1

Everything in my mind at this moment is only focused on one thing. The stressors from work today, I hope, are about to vanish when I see my baby girl. I unlock the door and the apartment is quieter than I thought.

"Darcy!" I called out. No answer.

I kicked my heels off by the door while hanging my jacket and purse on the coat rack.

"Darcy, baby, Momma's home!" I cooed, hopefully to get the, nearly, 1 year old's attention.

Her toys littered the living room but there was no sign of life. The only sign being her stuff animals lined up in a row on the floor. I went into her nursery to find that it was ransacked. We're talking crib knocked over, drawers from her dresser were thrown onto the floor, it's contents spilling out. Her changing table was knocked over on it's side; it was clearly broken from where the wood split on its impact to the ground.

What the hell happened?

I went back out into the living room and retrieved my phone from inside my purse and dialed my roommates number. She was supposed to watch her today since my friend, the person who usually watches her while I work, was sick. Maybe they went out to the park and I just missed a note that she intentionally left for me. Maybe I'm overreacting.

As my phone rung telling me it was trying to reach Mel I heard Mel's ringtone coming from the kitchen.

"Hi, you've reached me, Mel. I'm obviously not able to come to the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll try to call back."

Voicemail?

I slowly made my way into the kitchen, scared of what I would find. I screamed when I saw Mel lying in a pool of blood on the kitchen tile. My hand covered my mouth while my other arm is clenched tightly around my stomach, my breathing is erratic. My back finds a wall and I sink down to the floor as my vision becomes blurred with tears. I don't know what to do.

I'm going to get sick. Mel's eyes are open and they're looking right at me. I get up and run to the bathroom. I make it to the toilet, but just barely. I'm finally able to lean back against the wall, still not feeling too well. I pick up my phone and call the police.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Please, you have to help me. They have my baby!" I cried while screaming at the operator.

"Who has your baby?"

"They do! You have to help me! They took her and shot my roommate! Please, just help me." I cried. I can barely breathe. The sickness lingering in my stomach doesn't mix with this sudden crying and anger that I'm feeling.

"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to calm down so you can tell me where you live. Just take slow, deep breaths. Can you do that for me?"

I nodded my head even though he couldn't see me and told him where I live.

"Apartment 8. 9th floor."

I hung up the phone and sat on the bathroom floor not knowing what to do until the police get here. What the hell do they want with my baby? She too young to understand orders if they want her as a maid. She's too innocent to rape.

The police came about 10 minutes later and I was forced my self to walk out and open the door for them after I flushed my throw up down the toilet. The smell of Mel is nearly intoxicating while I walk to the door and I nearly throw up again. She must have been laying there all day. The police instantly make their way to the kitchen. I sit on the couch and observe my daughter's toys.

It was then that I found something strange. As I stared intently at her cars and stuffed animals I noticed it spelt something.

Darcy.