Last night was a close-to-sleepless night for me — it hasn’t happened for quite a while, and for the first time, it had nothing to do with Doughnut. She was sound asleep throughout the night, even lightly snoring at times. It had something to do with a disturbing news about a 20 month old boy who was abducted while playing his home’s front porch when his mother rushed inside the house upon hearing some sound, only to see him being taken away when she returned. She put up a chase but to no avail, getting herself some minor wounds in the process. 

I’ve always been a softie; and I’d be honest enough to admit it. But since becoming a mother, it has gotten from bad to worse. The smallest, pettiest things would get me into a cry fest. Just the other day, my husband caught me teary-eyed while we were walking past a young female beggar with 3 kids; a baby who was still being breastfed, and 2 older siblings (a girl and a boy aged around 3 to 5 years old) happily picking up litters from the ground and sipping leftover drink that someone just disposed of. My heart sank when I saw the baby, who was 7 or 8 months old at most, being fed with food taken out from a small tin which had several pieces of oddly-shaped biscuits in it — presumably leftovers. I don’t even want to imagine where they could have come from. I bent down and gave her some money. And when I looked up, I saw Doughnut staring blankly at the elder siblings, and appeared to be in deep thoughts. I wished I could explain to her what she just saw. I cried after we got into our car.

My thoughts were in a total mess last night, thinking of what would have gone through the mother’s head, seeing her very own flesh and blood being taken away from her. How was she to get through the minutes and hours thinking about where her son would be, how he’d be crying helplessly in search of someone familiar and most of all, how was she going to forgive herself if the abductors were to do anything to harm him. Thoughts of the little boy being hungry, cold and traumatized made me check on Doughnut repeatedly, even though she was sound asleep just right beside me. Even pettier thoughts like no fresh diapers, no warm food, no water and no comfortable bed for the abducted boy sent chills down my spine. It was the most heartbreaking feeling ever. 

Though the little boy was found unharmed about 19 hours later, this supposedly good news didn’t do much in cheering me up. My thoughts were still lingering around the poor mother who had to endure possibly the longest night of her life (the boy was abducted around 1pm local time) and to live with the guilt that her son was snatched away from her while under her supervision. Well at least I know I won’t be able to live the same anymore if it happened to me. So I’m just going to make sure it doesn’t happen to me. NEVER EVER. 

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