Dont Fear....

Sympathy for a Mother

Have you ever had something precious, taken from you?

My twin boy and girl were blissfully playing at the playground, swinging on the swingsets, sliding down the slides. We had been coming to this same playground a lot that week. But on that day, it couldn't have been more than a minute's inattention.

A minute, that's all it took, and then they were taken from me.

Quickly panicking, I started calling out for my two children, then yelling for them, then shrieking until I shredded my vocal cords and broke down in the street. Passers-by noticed my obvious hysteria and phoned the police.

Officers hurried to the scene, but were too late.

No trace of the children was found that first day, when my husband held me close, doing his best to comfort me, and the police reassured me with their utmost confidence. Nor did they have any leads the following day, when I stayed locked in the bedroom, refusing even to eat. On the third day, we held a press conference, where I pleaded for the safe return of my children, while also begging the public to come forward with information.

Everything happened so fast after that.

An elderly woman saw the news segment, and called the tip line having seen a van parked suspiciously close to the playground on the day of the disappearance. The police then found security footage from a gas station nearby that showed a van matching the woman's description. They found the van belonged to a convicted felon. They rushed to his house outside of town. They arrested him at his door. They found my boy and girl but - but!

When they told me, they witnessed me fall to the floor, burying my crying face into my palms. I felt their hands reach out to console me. I heard their voices whisper their condolences.

However, they couldn't see me grinning from behind my palms, and mistook my laughter for sobs. Truthfully, I despised those two parasites since the day they first slithered out of me. But I couldn't simply kill them myself.

Of course not. Too risky.

No, it was necessary for my hands to remain clean. Which is why I posted thousands of pictures of my "adorable" children onto my Facebook page. In my "excitement" I let slip the details of our schedule, where and when we were out and about. To make absolutely sure, I even dropped a careless link to my page on the "darker" corners of the web. A predator is such easy prey for the perfect crime.

Now then, how does it feel to have something precious, taken from you?

How does it feel to know that the next time you hear about a kidnapping, and you see the despair in the mother's eyes, for one moment you'll think of me, doubting her sincerity as your suspicions become overwhelming.

In other words, how does it feel having your human compassion and sympathy for that mother, taken from you?