Every night waiting by the door remembering the night they took him. I couldn’t believe it has been 9 years since that night. What have I done to deserve this, how could they do this?
It was a pouring night and the rain was coming down like bullets, everything was alright while we were watching the New York Giants play the Dallas Cowboys. Until that moment when the door burst opened, “Bam!” and we jumped off the couch faster than the speed of sound. The whole scene took place in a matter of seconds. I was tackled by some kind of foreign police force as they grabbed him, my 14 year old son. They pulled him out the door and I sprinted after them but as they got in their trucks they shot bullets at me and hit my arm. I immediately fell to the ground screaming in pain as they drove off with my boy. I was a sitting duck not moving just shouting, and after that I blacked out.
I woke up in the hospital with a bandage on my arm and started sobbing. That night was the last night I saw my boy, but every night I would wait by the door for my son. I would donate my life to my boy and every day I would search everywhere I could. I searched the computer for who that police force was but had no luck. Every night as I listen to the outdoors I could hear whispers in the wind telling me to keep searching for my son and to never give up. I never did and never would because I know I will find him someday and I know I will.
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