THE INTRUDER IN THE GARDEN

When she finally came to, her wrists felt chaffed in the pitch dark. She could barely see but
they felt red hot like they used to feel when Mummy smacked them for being naughty.
Slowly but surely, her chloroform induced state of mind began to clear. She couldnt feel her
little feet anymore. The lost five year old girl wanted to cry out for her mum, but her throat
felt dry and she bit down on a foul tasting cloth gag. Her screams came out in strangled
whispers.
Oh, but how cold and dark this place felt! She shivered and felt the last teardrop dry on her
soft cheek. A soft knock sounded on the glass window that separated the driver and the
kidnapped passenger. In his usual soft mellow tones, he ushered her to keep quiet and stop
moving about for there were almost there. Almost where, she wanted to ask but the gag
stifled her sobs once more. Only a while ago had he bounded her petite wrists and feet while
her small body could only comply, weak from the drug. Her nave mind had taken a blow,
why would someone she loved betray her trust? Her young body grew weak once again, and
she registered into shock. It slumped into the form of a limp rag doll. Behind the steering
wheel a pair of pink lips (almost feminine) plastered into a sickening smile. It was the little
girls birthday today.
Her name was Emily. She had a pet rabbit which she aptly named Ms.Potts. It was a fine
rabbit, white and grey with a blue ribbon around its neck. Sometimes, she talked to it. She
liked to pretend it understood her questions, such as why Mummy wouldnt talk to her
anymore after Daddy and her slept in separate rooms. Why didnt Mummy bother taking care
of the lovely garden anymore which Emily took over now? She would talk to Daddy about it
but she barely saw anything but a shadow at the breakfast table and the tophat on the stand.
She remembered only the ever present moustache above his upper lip. Nowadays, she saw
him even lesser than before, which wasnt very much to begin with.
The house she lived in was huge, but only one part of it mattered to little Emily; the garden.
Her bathroom took five minutes to cross and her own bedroom was bigger than most boys
and girls her age, but she only loved her garden. It was a garden of memories for her because
her parents would play there with her when she was young. It never changed; the grass was
the same shade of bright green and two inches high. There were many types of flowers with
complicated names; Mummy had taught her a few. She knew Queen Annes lace decorated
the path down the middle of the garden and bright daffodils grew in pretty clusters around the
wrought iron gate. Sometimes she would take off her Mary Jane flats and socks, and just
walk with naked feet on the grass. On occasions, she played hide and seek with Ms.Potts,
hiding behind the large sturdy trunks of maple and poplar trees in the garden. One of them
had a tyre tied to its sturdy branch which acted as a swing for little Emily.

Exactly two weeks before Emily turned seven, a stranger intruded her garden. She was
playing hide and seek with Ms.Potts and as the rabbit scurried around looking for the giggling
girl, the iron gate creaked. He was a man with chocolate skin and dark hair. He entered
slowly and carefully, a calm mask of nothing on his face. She continued to observe him as he
whispered into a little device in his shirt pocket. Ms.Potts bounded over to his feet. Emily
froze and bit her pink bottom lip hard. It seemed like ages before he picked it up gently and
stroked it lightly before feeding it some grass. It was then she decided to make herself known
to him. (For anyone that Ms.Potts deemed trustworthy must be so)
She called him Mr.White for that was all his wardrobe seemed to possess in terms of colour.
He always wore a suit, gloves and a plain tie, all the same shades of white. He was a softspoken and nice man who played with her and taught her loads of new games. Emily grew to
trust him and look up to him the way many children clung to a parent. For an hour everyday,
he slipped into the garden and talked to her, played with her and her pet rabbit. She showed
him her house and even Daddys study room which held many safes and secret files Mr.White
seemed to take interest in.
On her seventh birthday, she waited patiently for her new friend to come. It was a Sunday
filled with hopes and dreams. It was her first time celebrating her birthday without Mummy
and Daddy this year. He came in singing her a beautiful birthday song and holding a small
cake. It was her favourite chocolate mousse cake. After eating and having a wonderful time,
he asked her to follow him for a special birthday present. It all went downhill from there. He
pressed a strange smelling cloth to her little face, and her body went weightless under the
influence of chloroform. He tied both her wrists and feet, and then tossed her to the back of
the van and started driving away from the garden.
When Emily woke up again, she was surrounded by flowers. The flowers were her own; they
had been plucked from her garden. She stifled a burning tear, her small voice held inside her
throat. She saw him making a call. After that, he walked over to her and cupped her chin,
removing the gag. Then, he forced a mouthful of bitter liquid into her and made her swallow
it all. The last thing she remembering thinking before the world spun around and turned black
again was the beautiful scent of her flowers on Mr. Whites clothes.