P.T. Barnum's Oddities

Chapter 2: Anne and W.D.

Her father had died just months before Anne was born, shot by white men. Her mother was the strongest figure in her life. To Anne, her mother was powerful. Indestructible, even.
But that was when her world came crashing down, that one Saturday in mid May, when the sun was shining and three year old Anne was playing with her stuffed rabbit in the only bedroom of her mother's small apartment.
There was a bang. And the sound of crashing glass, making Anne jump and her bottom lip quiver.
"Hands up!" She heard a booming voice demand.
W.D. rushed into the bedroom, capturing the young girl and moving her under the bed, with him as well.
"No, please! Don't take me!" Was all they heard they're mother cry.
Anne squirmed in W.D.'s arms, just aching to help her mother with whatever was going on.
Some rustling and then another loud bang, then silence.
They waited under the bed for a few minutes that seemed like ages, then slowly crawled out.
"Ma?" W.D. called softly, making Anne stay at the top of the staircase as he crept down, careful of the dangers that may lurk below.
"Ma? Where are you?" He said, more frantically this time. "Ma!"
The only trace left of their mother was a smudge of blood on the floor.