by Jo Michaels
*****
Shirley’s daddy came down the stairs and halted; his eyes taking in the utter destruction in the house. Ornaments shattered all over the floor, packages ripped open with the contents strewn about like someone had played with them, cookies eaten and milk drunk, and empty candy dishes everywhere. Rage showed plainly in the knitted brows, scarlet cheeks, and frown that appeared on his face. He spun on his heel to collect his daughter.
I knew what was coming next, and I cried a few tears of my own.
When he entered Shirley’s room, he found nothing but empty sheets, drops of tea on the small table in the corner, and gumdrops scattered on the floor.
His wife entered behind him and asked what was going on.
He couldn’t speak until he’d inhaled and exhaled many times. “We’ve been robbed. And someone has kidnapped Shirley.”
Mom screamed and collapsed on the floor, her eyes spilling rivers of tears.
*****
Meanwhile, Shirley was frolicking through lush gardens with the fairies, having forgotten all about her home, Christmas, and her parents when she was whisked through the portal to the tiny creatures’ home. Many more flew about her, sprinkling her with sparkling dust, and tickling her still bare toes when she could run no more and fell over in the grass, giggling.
She was never seen or heard from again.