She stood still in the window, afraid to move in case she looked back. So independent; she insisted on taking the journey alone. She was getting older, but it was not easy to let go.
She watched the little pink umbrella bob up and down in the little girl’s hands. She could still see the delicate white hand holding on tightly on to the handle. The little girl skipped down the road, so happy, looking into every house window as she passed by. Twice she stopped and waved hello to the neighbours.
Her Mum stood in the window smiled to herself; such a friendly little girl. Always one to stop and chat, and tell the neighbours everything that was going on in her little life! She was never to chat to strangers though, her Mum had warned her many a time.
Just the tip of the umbrella was visible now. She was almost out of sight. Turning back to the room she set about finishing her chores. Normally the little girl loved to help, often making the task so much longer. But her Mum did not mind.
She had treasured every moment they spent together. She was her only child after all. Today she was visiting her little friend down in the village, and had insisted on taking the walk alone. She was to be home before dark that was the agreement.
Lost in her own thoughts, time went by without her noticing. She had accomplished a lot of her tasks and took the time to rest before her daughter returned. She fell into a deep sleep on the chair. The house had grown dark; the nights closed in quickly on a Winter’s day.
She woke hurriedly, her head shot up and panicked to focus on the clock.
She was never late. Grabbing her scarf she ran the path her daughter had skipped happily along earlier. The street lights were beginning to illuminate. A cold wind tried to stop her in her path. Wrapping the scarf around her tightly it brought little comfort or warmth.
She was shivering…
Frantically looking for any sign of her daughter returning home, a rustling noise startled her. A pink object was protruding from a bush. Her eyes now filling with tears was making it hard to focus.
Kneeling down on the wet, mucky ground she put her shaky hand through the bush to grab it. Pulling it out she sat back on her heels and began sobbing very hard.
It was her daughter’s little pink umbrella. It was torn, bent and inside out. Her own heart began to tear in half.
Where was her daughter?
What happened to the little girl with the pink umbrella? Part 2 coming soon!