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"Hide?Why do we need to hide?" The girl stopped short, turning to look up at her mom. "I don't understand what's going on. Why do we need to do this? Why can't we just stay here and wait for Dad to come?"
Her mother forced a slight smile, but it was so weak, so brittle, she thought her mother's lips were going to crumble. "I'll explain it all to you one day when you're older, but right now, I just need you to do as I say."
Nodding, the girl pushed the screen door open, pulling the bag behind her. Walking down the steps, the suitcase bounced off each one with a loud pop. But her mother didn't scold her for not lifting it up, she just kept pushing her along, telling her to hurry.
"Put it in the back with you and climb inside." Walking to the other side of the car, she opened the door and pulled the baby off her hip, setting him in the car seat.
The little girl leaned the bag against the edge of the door and started to lift it from the bottom to push it up. It was so heavy, as if her mother had packed it full with every ceramic dish from the cupboard.
"What did you put in this thing?" she asked, grunting as she gave it another hard shove.
Tires squealed up the street, so the girl stopped, letting the bag drop back to the ground. Peering at her mother, she watched the blood drain from her face as she threw her hand above her eyes to block the sun, and searched for the direction of the sound.
"What was that?" the girl asked, taking a few steps towards the back of the car.
"Get in the car, get in the car now!" her mother screamed as she scrambled to pick up the small girl at her feet and stuff her into the car. "Get in the car right now!"
"Mom, what's going on?"
"Go! Go now!" her mother yelled, flailing her arms wildly and trying to pull the keys out from inside her purse.
But the young girl was paralyzed as she watched two cars come flying up the road, slamming on the brakes as they reached the edge of the driveway.
Five men emerged from the cars, all of them carrying guns. The men stalked up the pavement, each one dressed in black clothing and heavy black boots, their eyes shaded by dark sungla.s.ses.
"No! I won't let you! You can't do this!" her mother screamed at the men, running towards the group and throwing her arms out to block them from coming any closer. "Run! Run, little flower!"
But the girl couldn't run. She wanted to, she knew she should, but she couldn't. All she could do in her state of confusion was stand there, watching in shock as a man threw her mom to the ground, placing his gun to her temple as she begged him to let her family go.
It didn't look like he was listening to her, or even cared one bit about what she was asking. The other guys veered off in different directions, splitting apart like the arms of a branch. Each one moved with precision like it wasn't a sporadic event, but a well formulated plan.
Her eyes tried to follow each one individually, but it was impossible. With her head twisted over her shoulder, she watched a man enter her home with his gun held out, aiming it at invisible danger.
The s.p.a.ce around her grew dark, as if the sun had suddenly disappeared behind a thick cloud. Turning around, she quickly realized it was the shadow of a guy coming towards her. A tall man with a light brown beard walked stealthily up the driveway, tucking his gun into his waist.
"Run! Run!" her mother demanded, but the girl stood frozen, unable to move her legs.
It was like time had stopped for that little girl. She could hear the sound of her mother's voice, but couldn't hear her words. She could see the man getting closer, but couldn't make out any of the fine details on his face.
"RUN!" Her mother's voice finally found its way inside, flipping a tiny switch in her brain. Turning on her small heels, she tried to take off. But it was too late. The man grabbed her around the waist, tossing her over his shoulder and turning back towards the cars.
"Let her go! Don't do this! Please, you don't need to do this! Just let her go!" Her mother pleaded to the man with a gun to her head, her nails digging into the lower part of his pants.