Why wouldn’t she?
Didn’t she know what was going to happen?
If onlyhe’dknown what was going to happen, then perhaps he could have stopped it.
He would have given anything to stop it.
“Dora, wait,” he begged.
She paused and turned to look at him. Her big blue eyes were bright and sparkling like jewels in the sunshine, her blonde braids were untidy from playing outdoors, and her yellow sundress was stained brown from climbing trees and making mud pies.
She looked so pretty, so sweet, so innocent.
She was so young.
She hadn’t deserved what had happened to her.
It just wasn't fair.
“Dora, wait there; I’m coming for you.”
He started to run toward her.
He ran as fast as he could, but it was taking him forever to reach her.
Then Dora giggled and began to run in the opposite direction.
“Dora. No. Wait,” he screamed.
Why was she running?
Did she think they were playing?
He was running as fast as he could. Faster than he ever had before. Why wasn't he catching up to her? He was ten, she was only six. Usually he could catch her without even trying. But today it didn’t seem to matter how fast he went, she only got farther and farther away from him.
Then abruptly, Dora stopped.
She was talking to someone. He couldn’t see who, they were hidden behind a tree, but he could hear his sister’s voice. He strained to make out the words. Maybe if he knew what they’d said to her, what she’d said to them, he’d know where to look for her.
Then she disappeared.
Poof.
Gone.
Just like that.
“Dora.” His screamed echoed, growing exponentially louder until it was deafening.
Finally, he reached the place where he’d last spied his sister. Only there was no sign of her anywhere.
Then he saw someone sitting on a picnic blanket.
Someone with blonde braids and a yellow sundress.
“Dora?”
There was no answer.