STALKED AND STOLEN

Chapter 1

Three weeks earlier.

In the tree straight across from my bedroom window sat a magpie. It’s feathers black, but shimmered blue when the sunlight hit it. It bounced on the branch sideways, frantically turning its head in all different directions. The birds liked to hang around outside the side of my house. My window was situated above the kitchen downstairs, and daily I’d be out there throwing bread and bits of fruit. Scraps of food that I couldn’t bear see go to waste. I’d been named ‘the bird lady’ by all the staff at the house.

Watching nature was one of the best things about living in the country. My family owned masses of land around our house, so there was no shortage of rabbits, birds, deer... allsorts of animals.

My chest lifted and fell as I sighed. I brought my knees up to my chest and turned my attention back to my book. I just couldn’t concentrate, though. My mind kept wandering. Sitting on my window seat I then looked around my room at all my stuff. I had everything most girls would die for, but it never made me happy.

When the latest CD Walkman came out, I was the first to get it. If I wanted a designer bag, my dad would surprise me with it. VIP tickets to my favourite band? Done. As the daughter of a very rich, well known man, I could have had everything I ever wanted, apart from a life, friends, and a job. It took me a while to realise that materialistic things really didn’t mean anything, especially when you have nobody to share them with. The closest I had to a friend was the magpie who hovered around my bedroom window. -and he was oy my friend because he knew I had access to food!

Knocking on my bedroom door startled me. I sat up and swung my legs around, placing my slipper socks onto my fluffy carpet.

"Come in," I shouted.

The door creeped open slowly, and Justyna, our maid, leaned in. Her long black hair hung in a plait over her shoulder. Her big brown eyes as bright as a star. The black and white uniform all the staff of the house wore fit her slim frame like a glove.

"Dinner is ready, Zoë," she said. Having moved here from Puerto Rico over twenty years ago, she still hadn’t lost her accent, and I loved it. She was more like my aunt than staff.

I slammed my book shut and slid off my window seat. Justyna linked onto me like a school girl as we made our way down the stairs towards the dining room.

“I hope you’re hungry, I’ve whipped up a feast!” Justyna said. She gripped my hand and bounced on her heels in excitement. One thing Justyna and I had in common was a love of food. In fact, most of our conversations were about exactly that. I loved to hang around the kitchen while she showed me how to bake cakes and make traditional dishes from her country.

“I’m always hungry,” I said, shrugging.

“My dear, what is wrong?” She stopped me and turned me around to face her, her hands on my shoulders.

“I’m OK. I’m just bored. It’s five o clock and I’ve spent another day in my room in my pyjamas.”

“Sweety,” she said. She ran her thumb across my cheek and patted me on the shoulder. “Tomorrow I’m going out to the grocery shop. You know, to buy the food! You will come.”

My lips grew into a soft smile. It was bitter sweet. I hated how exciting the thought of going shopping for groceries was. I was eighteen, I wanted to go out and experience more of life. I wanted to have an actual friend, someone I could rely on, someone I could pour my heart out to and share secrets. I wanted to go out and dance, have my first taste of wine. Maybe even kiss a boy.

“I’d like that.”

“Now, come. I have made your favourite, salt and pepper cauliflower. You need some colour in that face. Indoors too long my sweet girl.” She snapped her tongue and shook her head.