Dazed

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Dazed, confused, terrified, lonely and bewildered might be the adjectives that can describe me the best. However, Webster's dictionary has not discovered a word to describe such a nightmare. Experiments have shown that dreams and nightmares do not last more than minutes but this time, it was different. The nightmare lasted an entire week and even today, my family's life and mine are still being impacted.
Wednesday February 20, 2001, at 7:00 a.m. my brother was kidnapped. The kidnappers entered my house as construction workers. They had a perfect plan, they knew how everything worked around my house, they knew where each room was located, everybody's name, my dad's daily routine. They had a perfect plan. My mother, the 4 maids, all the drivers were taken as a group toward the farthest room. With a gun pointed at my head, I walked rapidly to the room. Lying on the ground and hiding under a bed the only thing I could think of doing was praying. The phone was disconnected and their attempt to lock us in the room failed when they couldn't find the keys. After 2 hours, the intruders who were in the room left and we could hear the dogs barking; we knew they were gone. We realized my brother wasn't in the room and immediately started looking for him. When I saw the keys to all the cars on the kitchen table, I noticed my mom's cars keys were missing and so was my brother. It took us a split a second to realize they had taken him and I was terrified they would never bring him back. My father came home immediately after we called him, and as he arrived, I was sent to my sister's house. My parents didn't want me to be around while the investigations were taking place.
Once again, thoughts and crazy ideas were running through my mind. I didn't know anything about my brother, and I wasn't sure I wanted to know. For an entire week, I talked to my parents only once a day and no one ever talked about what was really going on. I wish I had a friend to talk to while I was living a real nightmare. Then again, I wasn't allowed to tell anyone about it. Even though I was just a kid, having someone by my side would've been amazingly helpful.
Finally, one night we received a call from my mom. She was crying and all I could imagine was my brother being in danger - however it was only good news. My brother had been dropped off on a highway after the ransom was paid. I packed my bag and immediately went back home with my brother and my parents. I couldn't believe it, why wasn't he crying? Why does everyone pretend like everything is all right? These were questions I still can't find the answers to.
My mom sent me to the psychologist. Once again, I was confused and didn't know what I was supposed to do there. I thought everything was fine and after all, I was not the one who was kidnapped. What was I doing there? The psychologist answered this question as we walked into the room. He said 'Do you know what is happening? You were away for all this time but you are still part of it and after all it affects you too.' Going to the psychologist became the best part of my week. Talking was the only thing we didn't do. We played board games, we had relaxation sessions and we did everything I could think of to relieve the stress.
I am guessing I have chosen denial as the solution to my nightmare. Even though deep inside I know it truly occurred, sometimes I want to pretend like nothing ever happened. And by sometimes I mean all the time. I want to believe people do not harm their own species. I want to go back in time and skip that unforgettable Wednesday. And mainly, my greatest desire is to let my brother know I will always be there for him. Nevertheless, that day, that week and all those terrible moments my family had to go through has become a 'forbidden' topic to talk about. Up to this day, I still don't know what happened. The explanations I was supposed to receive were never given or asked for.





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