Missing Marcy

“Don’t cry,” said the police lady as she handed me a tissue from her pocket. “We’re doing everything we can. Everybody’s looking for her, including your dad. We find lots of children who’ve got lost or run away and hidden for a while when they’ve done something naughty and are afraid of being told off...”

“Marcy’s not afraid of anything,” I whispered. It wasn’t an answer to a question but I had to say it. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see mum’s glare. Vicky followed my gaze and saw it too. She smiled at me and stroked my arm.

“Well, perhaps she got lost or forgot the time,” she said.

“She’ll come home when she’s hungry,” said mum.

“But not if she’s been snatched away so that her mum never sees her again and is sad for the rest of her life until she dies!” I wanted to shout, but it wasn’t an answer to a question so I kept that thought inside and cried even harder.

After a while I calmed down a bit and the lady asked me when I had last seen Marcy. I stole a sideways glance at mum. Yes, that was a question I could answer.





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)