Monday, October 25, 2010

The Sock Monkey

Prompt: You are a 7-year-old child who has been kidnapped by a family who has been raising you as their child. They took you when you were just 2. What they did has been discovered by the police. One day you are playing quietly in your room when the police break down the door and arrest the couple you know as your parents.



The edge of the chair hurt my legs. I put my hands on the hard plastic and swung my legs. It hurt, but I tried not to let it show. I wouldn't cry. I was a big kid and I would not cry.

It was real big and empty in the station. My sock monkey was crumpled on the chair next to me. I wanted to pick it up and squeeze it tight, but I didn't want to look like a sissy. Daddy said I shouldn't like dolls at all - I was a big boy not some wussy girl. I wished I hadn't brought the stupid thing at all.

I could hear the police people talking, but I couldn't really hear what they were saying. I wondered where Mommy and Daddy were - I hadn't seen them since they brought us to the station.

I tried not to cry, but I was so scared. I reached over and grabbed my monkey's arm and clenched it in my fist.


A tall lady with curly hair was standing by the door.


She came and crouched next to me. "Hi, I'm Joanne."

I swung my legs. It hurt. "Hi, Joanne."

She didn't look like the police woman who had taken me away from Mommy and Daddy - the police woman had been scary. Joanne looked nice.

"Is that your monkey?" she asked.

I held on to it tighter, even though I wanted to let go and tell her that I was a big kid and I didn't like dolls. I didn't want Joanne to think I was a wussy.

"Can I see him?" she held out her hands. She was all careful with him.

"Does he have a name?" she asked.

I shook my head.

I looked up at her. Her curly hair was kinda shiny. "Do you have any kids, Joanne?"

"One," she said. "A little boy about your age." Then she just looked at me. I couldn't understand why she was crying.


  1. I like the way you jumped in and made the reader feel the fear of the child! As we see the media of situations just as this, we never really take that extra step back to would this child view what is happening?