The day prior to our kidnap was a Sunday. I remember because I woke up to the smell of burning bacon and smoking toast. I'd crawled out of bed to save my mother just in time from the spitting pan. She was holding it at arms length, her face terrified.
"Mum, are you ok?" I asked, taking the pan from her and turning off the gas, so the bacon abruptly stopped sizzling. I opened the window to let the smoke waft away.
She looked at me with wide eyes. She panted a little, like she'd been running. "Yes. I'm fine," she said sharply, "Just.... I'm just not used to.. to cooking... like this."
Smiling weakly, she took the pan from me tipped the ruined meat into the bin. I noticed that her hands were shaking.
"Mum, are you - are you sure you're alright?"
Her head snapped around to face me. She was inches from my nose. "Jenna," she said, breathing deeply, "I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise me that apart from school you wont leave this house. Not for anything. Do you understand?"
Her grip on my wrists tightened. "Why.. what - "
"Do you understand!" she shouted.
I nodded hurriedly, and she let me go. As she left the tiny, smokey kitchen, I noticed her stuff a crumpled piece of white paper deeper into her pocket.