The Sea Foam Churning from My Mind (Collection)

Kidnapping in Daylight [FF]

A random video showed up on my tl of a man coming up to a family and trying to take the girl. Although the story behind the video must have been scary for that family, I have no other information about it. This video inspired this short piece, but it has a little twist.

Kidnapping in Daylight [Written 9-12-20]

The girl swung her tan legs back and forth beneath the metal table. They were still too short to reach the ground, but she liked them that way. It meant she was a child; small and free.

The sun was shining high in the clear blue sky. A perfect day for ice cream. She giggled as she shoveled melted spoonfuls with chunks of strawberries into her mouth.

"Is that your favorite flavor, Callie?"

She beamed and nodded, the sincerity moving her whole body. "Yes, Mr. Johnson. Daddy always gets me some on the weekends, but never this much!" Callie dropped the plastic spoon to stretch her arms out as far as she could.

Mrs. Johnson smiled down at her. "You're perfect." A small swirl of pride and uneasy mixed in Callie's stomach. Only her Daddy had ever called her perfect, his little angel, but it felt nice to hear it from someone else. Callie sat up straight in her chair and stopped swinging her legs.

As Callie ate her eyes wandered. The other small tables were all full. There was a performer in the park across the street dancing, his movements as fluid as water. And little bubbles floated on the air from another family and their children.

She followed one of the small bubbles. It changed colors as it flew above her head, shining rainbow and reflecting her wide eyes and stubby braids. It bounced along with the dancer's music and landed on the short fence that separated the sitting area from the street.

It popped.

A man appeared behind the fence. He charged.

His dark hands grasped for her and held on. He yanked on her small arms, but Mr. Johnson was holding onto him. Others from the tables jumped to help pull the man to the ground. There was so much crashing and yelling for Callie to think.

"Ah!" the man on the ground yelped.

The group stilled. Everyone backed away. The man lay there sputtering, reaching his hand out to Callie, choking on his own blood. The metal fork winked at her.

She squealed, "Dad—"

Mr. Johnson's hard hands clasped over her soft face. "Shut up!" His voice was kept low, but filled with urgency and venom. He scooped her up into his arms and held her to his chest.

Callie knew at that moment that he had the strength to make her shut up. She knew that would hurt. She took a shaky breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She screamed.

The patrons of the restaurant exchanged guilty looks and rushed to cover the body. Small apologies bubbled from the growing crowd. And as Callie readied herself to scream again, to wriggle free of the man's vice grip, Mrs. Johnson hugged them.

She had become the cut meat in a human sandwich topped with wet tears and the scent of sweet cakes and ice cream. Then she was limp in their arms.