“But, Mom, all my friends are going…..”
The desperate pleas fell on deaf ears. She just would not allow her kids to go to the Childrens’ Park. Her husband thought she was being unreasonable.
Betsy knew that they will not understand why. They were not aware that she had spent six years of her childhood in that park, till her parents divorced. Her father used to work as a caretaker there. Betsy enjoyed all the rides and games, where she was allowed to enter. On that particular day, her father had directed her not to go near the bird-shaped boat, perched on metal supports. It was under maintenance, and closed to the public. Curiosity got the better of her, and she sneaked in there after dark to see what was happening.
Her voice had choked with fear, as she saw blood streaming out of a man’s body, and an open suitcase with shiny gold bars. She was horror-struck with a large hand covering her mouth. It was her father, and he held a gun to her temple with the other hand.
“You will never speak about this, all your life, or you will meet the same fate, as that man”.
Inspired by Sunday Photo Fiction at