Nine days

She's been missing for nine days.
The police are worthless. They said that without a ransom, she could be anywhere. I've been driving around the neighborhood where she was taken in wider and wider circles, putting up fliers, knocking on doors...people are searching the woods for any sign of her. It's been on the news, that amber alert thing- like that'll do any good. People just change the channel. Haven't I done the same thing all these years? Another missing child, not my problem. If only.
Contacted the National Center for Missing/exploited Children. There's a hotline. Every call has been a false alarm.

The police are sitting with their thumbs up their ass watching. And so's my prick of an ex. He's passively waiting for news. His daughter's been kidnapped and he's just sitting there watching CNN like that has answers, like Meg's going to show up safe and sound on the tv screen. I spoke to him yesterday and he thinks...he's given up hope.
Annie's barely spoken since Meg was taken. She rides along with me when I put up fliers and sleeps in my bed at night. For once I want her to cling to me.

And there's nothing- no sign of Meg. Whoever has her, the son of a bitch is good. But I'm not giving up. I'm going to find him if I have to quit my job, live on the street, devote every ounce of energy to looking...if I have to do it completely alone. Meg's not dead. She's not dead. She's my fucking daughter and if that man's touched a hair on her head...