Hostage

Shiloh's POV

I just arrived from school when I heard a gunshot as we entered the door. I was scared to get inside the house, but what if something happens to my family? I run upstairs but there's no one up there. I came down and saw my mother on the floor.

"Mommy!" I cried my heart out when I saw her lifeless body lying on the kitchen floor. Swimming in her blood.

There was my dad standing with the young man holding a gun by his side. 

"You killed my mom! You killed my mom!" I stood up and hit him anywhere my fist landed. The man stared at me and spoke.

"I never killed your mom," he said.

"I don't even have a gun." He continued staring at me.

"And what's that in your hand? Isn't that a gun?" I pointed to the gun in his hand.

"Your dad gave it to me. I just came in, and he gave it to me. Believe me," the man replied firmly.

"Liar! I saw you shoot my wife. You're a killer." My dad shouted and punched the man in his face.

"You killed your wife. He killed your mom, believe me," the man shouted in my face.

He earned more punches and kicks from my father. A moment later police came and took the man. They interviewed my dad.

While they were at the police station giving their statement. I still can visualize the face of the man holding a gun. I could sense that he was telling the truth. The man is innocent. How can he have a gun? He looks poor; he is like a student. I don't know; I never knew him. Besides, what will be his motive for killing my mother?

I never knew that someone hated my mother. My mother is loved by our people.

When the police ask me. I want to say something to the police, but I cannot even open my mouth because my father throws a dagger at me.

So I remained silent for the whole time.

"Just leave her; she's still in shock. She lost her beloved mother. I hope you understand," my father told the police.

"We understand, sir. If she wants to say something later, just approach us," the police told my father.

Going back to our home, while in this car, my father told me.

"Don't give the police any statement. I'm afraid that you will say something because I know that you're still in shock. Otherwise, your mother will not get justice. Let that killer suffer from killing your mother."

I just nodded in agreement.

"We will not let your mother's funeral take longer than one day. We will bury her the day after tomorrow. It's more painful for us to see her lying there lifeless," he said, choking.

Is he crying? I want to see his face but I chose not to. 

I could sense that he was not in his right mind since my mother was killed.

Maybe it's painful for him losing Mom. 

I didn't respond to him regarding my mother's funeral. I know that my voice doesn't matter to him anyway. So better to keep silent.

All I wanted, for now, is to cry. I lost my best friend. The only person who loves me.

What will my life be like now that my mother is gone?

I immediately rubbed the tears that dropped in my hands. I have to be brave. Now that I'm alone. My father doesn't exist; physically, yes, but not emotionally.

For him, I'm only a decoration. Me and my mother. We have to portray a perfect family in front of my father's associates. We have to pretend that we love each other. We have to pretend that we care for each other. Because of those pretensions, we were envied by others. How they wished that their family was like theirs. Nobody knows that inside our home, we don't really know each other. We don't care about each other. Only my mother loves me unconditionally. Now that she's gone, what will happen to me?

I choked and it didn't escape from my father's hearing.

"You can cry all your life if you want but not in front of me," he said, glaring at me.

I nodded and wiped the tears on my face with the back of my hand. I must control myself. 

After the funeral, my dad sent me to study in Paris. He sent me with my nanny.

I was never allowed to come back to our home since then. I tried to ask Dad many times if I could visit Australia, but I only got a scolding from him. So I never mentioned going home anymore. I kept my mouth shut and followed my father's order.

I wonder why I'm not allowed to come home. But instead of asking him again, I decided to keep it to myself. 

I also wondered why I couldn't feel the love from my own father. Since I was sent to Paris. My father seldom visited me. Or does her father visit me? I'm trying to recall when was the last time I saw my father. Never. He only sends me money for my studies. I only heard his voice every time he called, telling me that he sent me money. And also when I called him to say thank you and to inform him that I have received the money. That's all.