"What do you mean you are in charge here?! There's a girl who works here! Long, dark hair and hazel eyes."

"Sir, I already told you I am in charge here and no one else is."

"BUT..." but what? What do I have to say? Nothing. I have never been here before. I only picked her up sometimes, but she would be already standing outside. I have no debate. Somehow everything about her seems to fade away. Like it never exist. Like she didn't either.

"Sir, I assure you there isn't female workers here. So will you please go now? You're wasting our costumers' time."

I turn back to a line of annoyed people, all staring at me in contempt. I ignore their looks and walk away in defeat.

I think of her all the time. Her wellbeing. Is she still breathing the air I do? Maybe she is. But also maybe she's in a madman's arms. Or she's hurting. In pain. Just the thought of that makes me tense. Blood boiling in the back of my head. I can't let go. I can't give up. But what can I do?

Something was thrown on me. I flinched innately. A little boy on a bike did it, and before I even open my mouth he was out of sight. I picked up what he threw on me, which was a well folded piece of paper. It was a message. I gasped as I read.

We are everywhere. Don't try messing with us. If you want your baby girl to stay alive then follow the orders. Will know where to find you. Now cut this note to tiny pieces that could never be pieced back together and throw it in that mail box by the corner. Then head home. Remember, we are watching.

It took me awhile to process what I was reading. Panic erupting through my head. I am clueless and scared, and that's the worst combination ever. I fumbled the paper as I tried to think. What do I do now?! I've been waiting for their interaction. But now that they did, what should I do next? Listen? Then I thought of the consequences if I didn't, and I, immediately, terminated that choice.

To cut the paper, I decided.