That's What I Thought

• Tara Zschech, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2017

It’s too late she’s gone, they’ve taken her. I run into the dimmed hallway in a helpless state. I ran into the damp street. They’ve taken this too far, it should have been over. I get into my iced car and drive into the rainy night to the police station. I tell them everything but they seem to be angrier with me. I ask them to help but they grab me by the wrist but I pull back and run out. I can’t do anything, the police are against me. How will I get her back?
I drive into a back street of the howling city to find the thugs that took her. I plead for them to let her go but they just punched me and they said the only way to get her back is to pay the price. I lay there on the cold street with my face badly bruised. I knew for sure that this is ransom. I have to rescue her. I find a low window with little light coming out. I can just make out a figure of a little girl. Her cries were horrendous, she pleaded for her father but she knew she wasn’t going to get out. The thugs leave but I don’t, I slip in through the open window.
I’m standing there in the dim room with my daughter. Her face is red with fear, she didn’t recognise me. They’ve brain washed her for sure. She screamed and kicked. The door opened, it was too late, I didn’t see the arrow. I later wake up in bed, it’s again twelve o’clock. But how, I was out for hours? I turn around finding my daughter slimly standing next to me. I jolt back in fear. She tells me they’re here so I pull her into my arms. We hear the thunderous thumping from down stairs. I hold her tight it wasn’t over yet, I knew what I had to do.
They slowly rummage through her bedroom hoping to find her, I get up and grab the baseball bat from my cupboard. I have to end this. I sneak into the room and club them over the head. I knew I couldn’t call the police, I had to dispose of them. I drove to the creek and laid their bodies in the damp soil. Someone had found out about the bashed men and called the police, fortunately the police didn’t touch me or maybe even recognize me. I watch them drive the brutal bodies away. We have never heard of the men since