The Kidnapper

As a kid, every sound had me scrambling around in the dark for a baseball bat. I hated going to sleep. I was always too awake, too aware. I became a lone mother in her nest, having to protect her young, and the precious nest itself. It was either me, or even worse, my mom, who was about to be kidnapped. I even dreamt about the kidnapper; where he would be, where he would take me. Always in black, with only a strip of his face showing. That was how he appeared every time. The kidnapper was the ultimate enemy.