Chi&Fei+ching


 * __ Kidnapped.__**

They say that every second that passes by in life, defines the next minute. I was left breathless, cold and perplexed. I continued ruminating on my predicament. I knew I had to make a decision, my only battle was the dominant worry of the outcome of my choice. Solutions. Did they really exist, or they were like pure gases which are never felt nor seen. My head felt liked it was going to split into two. My deep deliberation seemed to make me feel as if I were schizophrenic. I felt lost with the emptiness that I knew could come from my decison if it were wrong, but at the same time I knew the amount of relief that would come if I was right. Pros and cons. What was I going to do? The night gave an enigmatic feel, subtly emitting a misconceived idea of what the darkness held. Outside, the lightning collided with the heavens, making the sound of roaring thunders which sounded as if they were crying out from pain. A vague premonition of danger-only a second or two- flew through my heart. However, I ignored it. The skies cries remained as I kissed my child goodnight. I was desperate for a sound, long sleep. There seemed to be a harmony in my silent room- the cries of thunder and the sounds of wind-trailing me into sleep. Out of the darkness, the sound of breaking glass distorted the harmony, waking me up from my slumber. My child. I rushed to the room. Dead silence. I looked towards the bed, and instead of my child, all I could see was a crumpled paper laying on it.

I stood in unmitigated disbelief. Were my eyes deceiving me? Where was she? I felt dizzy and sick, my bones felt weak. I was unable to move. I began to shout her name out from the darkness, with breathless intervals. My only reply was the silent lightning that ripped the night. I ran to her bed, in hope that my eyes were deluding me. But as i came to the note, my hopes only seemed to be like a far-fetched dream. The note was debilitating. What seemed like a life time, my presence in the room, was interrupted by the foot steps of the body guards, running up the stair case.  Fifty thousand before noon or else you will never see your daughter again. These words pierced my heart as if they were like double-edged swords. Body guards were around me, shouting towards one another and ransacking the room. I should have asked them to stop. My daughter doesn’t like her belongings being handled by others. But I couldn’t care less. All I could think of was how she was. Was she crying for help? Did she look or shout for me? Like dew on grass, the tear drops from my eyes soaked the paper. My legs weakened and I collapsed onto the floor. I squeezed my fist and twisted the paper uncontrollably. I was not going to allow anyone to take my daughter away from me, no matter what it took. I was determined.

The police arrived along with my team. We did not want this to go the public for the simple reason of my senatorial position. This is when my predicament was illuminated. In the office we had written up a bill which was talking about how we want to reduce crime, it explained the causes and prevention methods of crime. It managed to get us favour from the public, and the parties supporters increased. Therefore, my decison of whether to the pay ransom or to race against time and try find my daughter, could be seen as a contradiction to what the party stood for or be seen as an irrational decision. What was I going to put before my daughter's life, my country or her? It was this realistion that made me feel as if my world was crashing right before me. I suppose this is the 'unpareil cruelty' of life which needed to be dealt with.

In a blink of an eye, the blazing sun shone on my tearful face. Two hours was all that I had left. The money was ready, but my mind wasn't. This decision would not only affect me, but the reputation and image of the party. My rivals would be gratful to have the chance to attack me. My phone rang vigourously, giving no moments of silence peace. Despite of those everlasting noise, not even a second of it came from the kidnappers. No location stated. How was I going to pay? This shook the doubtful choice in my heart even more. Worries and frights began invading me once again. I fought, but was futile. While I was falling into an abyss of despair, the sudden movements from the fax machine held unto me.

"Your daughter is safe. Pick us up at 52nd and Walls Street, and HURRY," the message on the paper stated. As soon as I saw the message, I called out to my team and the police, thrust the paper into their hands, ran out to my car and drove off. They would send back-up the moment they understood the message, and true enough, the sirens of the police cars that were parked in front of my house could be heard not far behind me. I rushed to 52nd and Walls Street as fast as I could, and soon I drew up in front ofthe intersection of it. I jumped out of the car and scanned around, keeping a sharp look-out for my daughter. I stopped when I saw it. She was smiling, sitting on the arms of the man who was carrying her. He had a bruise on his right cheek, and he was bleeding on his left forehead. It took me awhile till I noticed that familiar smile on his face, the small scar on his chin, and the deep, understanding blue eyes in those sockets. Tears began running down my face. "Neil?" I whispered to myself.

Fatin: From my point of view I like the story. It's short, simple and nice. Though there are some parts that I would like to point out. There are a few spelling mistakes and also at the ending the story is like left hanging and I thought that if you could write in a little more I would like to read it. The story gives suspense to me and I like to read some stories that give a little flavour in it. So I think the story is great.

Cristien : Overall, I like the story. It's simple and nice. There are some spelling mistakes as what Fatin mentioned and it's true that the ending of the story is left hanging. It would be better if there is a continuation of the story. I love the beginning of the story when the tension is built up. I would like to read more of it. Words used show their high-quality ability of writing. It's great!