Losing Celine. ✔

Taken Away.

'I'm Home', I call out, as I step inside the brightly lit hallway of my house, keys jingling in hands.

No answer.

Frowning, I try to shrug off my black leather jacket impatiently. For a moment, it clings onto me, drenched in sweat and I struggle to take it off, almost feeling like I'm peeling off a second layer of skin upon my own. I grimace as I finally manage to take it off and hang it on the empty hook.

I hate to end up like this. My reflection in the mirror shows how worn out I look, a totally different person to the one who wakes up with natural, perfect hair, messy at just the right angles. But now, my hair look a mess, damp with rain and sweat. My shirt clings onto my body and my face is pale, such a damn sorry sight that I feel bad for myself. Sighing, I kick off my shoes, and shove them inside the shoe rack, unlaced, making a mental note to put them right later.

I frown. Normally, Lucy would be welcoming me by now, with a cup of her perfect hot coffee, a tight smile on her gorgeous face and a fresh bundle of complaints. But there is nothing.

There is only silence. Which is unusual.

Maybe Celine slept early. Maybe she's lying next to her, singing her an old fashioned lullaby.

Yes, that must be it. Sighing deeply, I drag my feet to the kitchen, hoping to fix up a quick dinner. I should have ate something on my way back home. But I was feeling too impatient. And irritated. Lucy must have called a dozen time, demanding me to come home while I tried to reason with her, trying not to lose my temper.

These endless arguments leave me exhausted. It's an unhealthy habit that must not be broken, at all costs. Most annoyingly, most usually start on phone calls and end late at night when both of us are too tired and worn out to shout anymore.

Celine has been in my thoughts the whole day. Her chubby face, Her big gorgeous green-grey eyes and her plumb lips that smile in delight when I scoop her up in my arms, and her sweet laugh that relaxes me when I pretend to take aim and spin her round and round, making aeroplane noises. It's one of the countless games we play.

She is the source of my happiness. A perfect reward after a long tiring day. Though I love my job as an actor, though I've learned to deal with all the crap that comes with it, by the end of my day, I need comfort, warm hugs and laughter that isn't flirtatious. Celine provides me just that. And a great deal more pleasure, and relaxation.

Abandoning my idea of fixing up a plate of leftover food, I climb up the stairs that lead to our bedroom and Celine's nursery, wanting nothing else but just to see the sight of her sleeping with her dark hair slayed over her tiny pillow, those big eyelashes of hers curled and sparkly with tears -Celine always cries before falling asleep- My heart aches at the very thought of cuddling her, I quicken my pace, and take two stairs instead of one.

Reaching her room, I take a deep shaky breathe before pushing open the white door of her nursery, with half crescent moon engraved on it, and step inside.

The very sight of the tiny crib relaxes me. The crib that we bought at an overly expensive shop. It was wooden and bare, shaped like a boat. It was yet to be painted and was not on sale. Lucy had begged the shop keeper to let us buy it. She wanted to paint it herself, decorate it with tiny stars and a full moon, the idea based on the memory of the night when we had been blessed with the arrival of our little baby.

The whole nursery is like that. A place full of memory, every bit of furniture a piece of goodness; our style, our creation. I have never been tempted by the lastest fashion, least interested in colourful clothing items that seem a little too bright for my taste. But I found myself shocked when I first felt the desire to go into a kids's clothing store and buy pink frilly frocks and embroidered tiny shirts. If I was ever a dull man, Celine's arrival sure changed me.

Smiling softy now, almost breathless with relief and happiness, I walk over to the crib, shaped like a little boat, with it's snowy white net curtains pulled around it. I lean over to peek and my heart stops.

The crib is empty. The mattress unfolded, the pillow gone. For the first time in my life I feel like I've lost the ability to breathe, or to think. For a minute I simply stare, feeling numb, then a jolt of pain hits me, pulling me out of trance. Barely daring to breathe, with a thudding heart, I dash out of the nursery and run to my own room to check if Celine is there. She's not. The room is empty. No Lucy. No Celine. Just an unmade bed, and a dozen blanket thrown over the floor like litter.

My heart nearly stops beating. Frantically, I wipe out my phone from my back pocket, My hands tremble so hard I can barely hold my phone, least find Lucy's number. My fingers stab at the screen, icy cold. I feel cold all over, my head throbs suddenly.

Dammit. I can barely think.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

The call ends, a female voice states that her phone is turned off. I curse under my breath. I swear all I see is red.

I scroll down the screen and start calling anyone that comes in my mind. As I run down the stairs, my heart clenches and burns inside, as if Lucy really has grabbed hold of it and wants to torture me.

I'll kill you, Lucy. Where the hell are you?

I don't want to think of what she might have done. Lucy is a cautious person, she wouldn't have got in trouble. That can only mean one thing.

I run a hand through my hair, pulling at the strands. I may have not been the most organized husband, but I always, always stay in control. Now I can't even hold my freaking phone without dropping it.

Jamming my feet into my shoes, I'm out of the house in two minutes flat. I can't breathe. I can barely think.

I feel like my legs will give out any moment, they feel like they've turned into jelly, but somehow, I manage to run towards the house next door and bang as hard as I can on their door.

The door opens almost instantly.

'What the hell are you doing?' Diana shouts, her face reddening. I feel too suffocated, I can hardly breathe, least manage the find enough energy to shout back. Panting, I grab hold of her shoulders and shake her.

'Where is Lucy?' I demand. 'Have you seen her?'
Goddammit, answer me!'.

She's gasping like an idiot, and I want to snap her head out of her body. I shake her harder. 'Answer me, you stupid women.' I'm growling. My head freaking hurts.

'She left at seven.' She gasps again. And I release her, shocked, feeling like I've been slapped.

'What?'.

'She left.' She screams, pushing me. 'You bloody idiot. She left you. And took away the screaming child. Took nothing else. And I don't blame her one bit.'

Rage builds inside me. But the cold fear doesn't leaves.

I swear, I'll kill her as soon as I get my hands upon her.

'Where did she go?'. I grab hold of her again, I can't think straight. The whole world is swaying before my goddamn eyes.

'I don't know, do I?'. She hisses, spitting the words at me.

I curse under my breath before pulling out my phone again. This time, I call the police.

'Hello, Mister Carter.' A voice familiar speaks. 'How-

'My wife.' My voice cracks. I feel like I've lost the ability to speak as well. 'My wife is gone.'