Page 1 of Stolen Ones

Prologue

The door opens and I stare at it. Why is the door opening after all this time?

I grab brown bear and hold him close.

Is someone coming in? Are they coming to get me? Where am I being taken now?

I don’t know how I feel.

I’ve waited so long for the door to open, and now my stomach is rolling like when I had to do a sums test that I wasn’t ready for.

‘Oh no…oh no…oh no…’ I whisper as I back away from it. I don’t understand.

Brown bear’s ear hovers close to my mouth. I give in to temptation and allow it into my mouth. I spit it back out again. Only little girls chew on toys.

I reach for the hairbrush on the dressing table. It sits beside the small glass jewellery box that holds my most treasured possessions: a sparkly bangle and a silver chain. They’re new and I just love to take them out, touch them and put them back again.

Behind the jewellery box is my diary, covered with my favourite Barbie picture. I never had anything so lovely before in my whole life.

I turn away from the door completely and look at the other side of the dresser. The triangular sandwich packaging from lunch sits on the top. The apple core has fallen inside it. Hot meal for breakfast; sandwich, crisps and fruit for lunch; and biscuits and crackers for snacks.

Keeping my back to the door, I move to the desk in the corner. My schoolbooks are open. Double reading on Tuesday afternoon. Every Tuesday afternoon.

I remove the strawberry from the end of the pencil and replace it with a furry grape. It’s purple, my favourite. Another present. I love it.

I turn back to my books but can’t concentrate. Before I realise it, I am chewing on the purple grape, and strands of fur are resting on my tongue.

I scratch at my tongue to remove them and wipe my hands on my jeans.

Gross.

I step into the bathroom and swill my hands under the mixer tap. Maybe when I return the door will be closed again.

After using the towel, I fold it. I’m not sure why. No one else uses this bathroom.

It’s mine. All mine.

It’s my toilet, my bath, my shower, my sink. My wardrobe filled with new clothes. My bed that’s bigger than a single but not as big as Mummy’s bed.

My very own television is fixed to the wall above my desk. I can see it from my bed or from the soft cushioned single chair beside the door.

I still don’t understand what’s going on.

I look to the single camera nestled in the far corner of the room. I stare at it waiting for an answer.

It doesn’t answer me.

Beyond the door is grass, bushes, trees. I strain my neck to get a better look, to see what else is beyond.

Nothing happens.

I take a step, making sure I take brown bear with me.

Another step.

And then suddenly I am there. I am at the open door.

I have only one question.