Wasn't Always Easy

“We were all shocked to say the least,” I told the news reporter. “I didn’t think she was capable of doing something like that.”

It was Wednesday December 23rd 2012. I was nine years old, going to the annual Hastwick Winter Festival. I was taking my four year old sister to the festival to visit our mother who was running it. Mom was always busy, so we barely saw her. She worked long hours and often had to travel for her job. Even when she was home, she was usually too tired to spend quality time with us, so we spent most of our time with our cousins across town.

We took a bus to the winter festival. The winter festival was a sight to behold. Everywhere we looked, there were twinkling lights and decorations that glistened in the snow. The air was filled with the scent of hot chocolate and roasted chestnuts. There were ice sculptures, carolers, and children bundled up in their winter coats. It was a truly magical experience, though it didn’t stay magical.

As time went on, the novelty of the experience wore off and I started to notice the small flaws that had been hidden before, but that wasn't the only thing that was off. There were people in black coats posted at every entrance and exit. I soon realized that the entire place was heavily guarded, making the whole atmosphere feel oppressive and tense, though the guards there weren’t for the festival.

“His name’s Suka.” A man next to me said, pointing towards one of the men in coats. He was one of my neighbors. “He and his friends moved here a couple of days ago from the Congo Region.”

I didn’t think much of them at the time, but then I realized who they were, and so did my mom, but she realized all too late. 

They were kidnappers.

And they took Amber. Amber had been so excited to attend. She had been laughing and playing with her friends, when suddenly I saw men appear in front of her. They grabbed Amber and ran, and before anyone could do anything, then disappeared into the night. It was clear that these men had come specifically for Amber, and there was nothing anyone could do to prevent them from taking her. It was a terrifying sight, and one that none of us will ever forget.

I don’t even think Mom cared enough to run up to me the second it happened.

I don’t even think she noticed until her coworker yelled at the men to let Amber go. She just stood there, frozen in fear. I know she was scared just as much as I was, but it didn't matter. 

We both left the town a couple of months later. We couldn’t stand being there after everything happened. We moved to a town called Greenthone. It was a town in the same state just an hour away so we could still be near our cousins. The town was lush and green, filled with trees, flowers, and plants of all kinds. Everywhere you looked, you could see the beauty of nature, with its vibrant colors and fresh air. The streets were lined with trees and the parks were filled with a variety of plants. The town was truly a paradise.

Everywhere you went, you could hear the birds singing and the leaves rustling in the wind. It was a peaceful oasis, a place where you could forget your worries and just enjoy the beauty of the natural world, and yet somehow I still worried. I worried about Amber, and if she’d ever come back.

Mom decided to take us back to Scis Plaza in 2021 when I turned eighteen. Returning to my hometown after it had struck was a difficult choice, but Mom made the right choice. I guessed that Mom wanted to show me that the town could still be a place of beauty and peace. Mom wanted to show me that the town could still be a place of beauty and peace despite the destruction that had taken place. She wanted to demonstrate that the people in the town could still be kind and caring, and that the town could still offer us a sense of belonging.

But it wasn’t. 

We came back just in time for us to attend the Winter Fest, and more tragedy struck the second that we returned. More children went missing and were kidnapped by the same ones who took Amber. The police brought me in to ask some questions on the kidnappers to see if I remembered anything, which is honestly stupid considering that the incident happened over ten years ago. I felt that the police officers were wasting their time by questioning me and that they should be out there doing something more productive to help solve the case. They were being stupid by not looking for other clues and leads, and it was frustrating. It wasn’t my place to tell them how to do their job, but still, it felt wrong.

The town looked the same as usual, but the vibe wasn’t right. When I returned to my home town after years away, I felt like an outsider. Everything looked familiar, but I felt like I didn't belong anymore. It was a strange feeling, like I was seeing the town with new eyes. I'm not the only one who feels this way. In fact, many people who have left their home towns and come back feel like they are outsiders in their own towns. It's a common feeling, and it's not necessarily a bad thing. It just means that you've changed and grown in ways that your hometown hasn't.

Everywhere I looked, I could sense the unease in the air. People were walking quickly, avoiding eye contact, and seemed on edge. It was likely because of the recent news of the kidnapping. People were likely scared and worried, which was resulting in their behavior and the general unease in the atmosphere. I was feeling the same way, so I hurried home. I wanted to be in a safe place, where I could gather my thoughts and process what was going on. I felt a wave of relief as I arrived at my door, except it all faded away the second I opened the door. 

Walking into my house after the burglary seemed like a nightmare. Everything was in disarray, my furniture was overturned, and my electronics were missing. I never felt so violated and helpless in my life. It robbed me of my sense of security and a safe and private space. Seeing my house in such a state of chaos made me realize that my home was no longer a safe haven. It was a stark reminder of the vulnerability of my belongings.

I not only lost my sister that day, but my mother as well. After my sister was kidnapped, my mother was never the same. She was consumed with grief and guilt, and her health quickly deteriorated. I felt like I had lost two people that day. I had lost my mother and my sister, but then I actually lost Mom. It wasn't just a feeling anymore.

It was my whole life.