The road is dark and thin winding around the mountains. It was chilly outside, so it must be around mid-December. Sitting in my car seat, I look out the window in awe of the stars. A normally talkative and peppy child, I keep my mouth shut. I'm not allowed to speak unless spoken to. If I do speak, it has to be a simple, "I love you," or else she gets mad. She's scary when she's mad.
Speeding drunk and tired down the highway, I see her send a quick prayer to God that she doesn't get pulled over; she doesn't have a licence. The wind from the rolled-down window pulls at her fake-golden locks as she puts out her cigarette. As she sighs, I cough a few times; I couldn't stand the smell.
"Only a few more hours to go, my angel! Oh, isn't this exciting? You finally get to see everyone!" Her voice, diminished by smoking, had a fake cheer in it. Even then, it had a sweet musical ring to it, like a church organ in a haunted house.
"Where are we going?" I ask innocently, like the child I am.
"We're going to my house! Don't you want to go to my house?" Her question was simple, but her voice was menacing.
"Yes ma'am," I whispered. Manners had been beaten into me, mentally and physically. "Where's my dad?"
"Oh, your daddy doesn't have to join us, right? It'll be just me and you. Is that okay?" She turns around and squeezes my leg just enough to earn a whimper, then flashes a bleached smile.
"Yes ma'am," I whisper.
The car goes quiet. The only sound being the tires going over the ice-covered the road. Her ice-blue eyes pierce into me through the rear-view mirror.
"They never loved you, you know," she began. "They never loved you. I love you, my angel. I love you. I do."
"I love you, too. I love daddy and Nona, too."
"Of course you do, sweetheart. Of course you do." She grips the steering wheel tightly. "They took you from me," she says through clenched teeth. "You are mine, my angel. I won't let them take you from me! Never!" She shouts, pounding her fist into the console.
The car goes silent. By then, I had learned how to cry in silence. Through my tears, I see a sign that reads "Caution: Roads May Be Slick." I feel the car speed up and grab the arms of my car seat. Suddenly, we start spinning out of control. Scared, we both scream. A cliff on one side, we veer to the other. The spinning stops abruptly when we collide with the hard earth. I jerk forward in my seat, gaining a red mark on my neck from the seat belt. She mutters curses in he seat and I begin to cry. A few minutes later, I see red and blue flashing lights pull up. A cop walks towards our car. Opening her door, she turns around to me and speaks sternly, "You will never tell anyone about this."
This is all I can think of when my dad tells me my mother kidnapped me in the middle of the night when I was four years old.
