When I was seven years old my ten year old brother Jamie was kidnapped, or so they say. The police claimed whoever had taken him were ‘professional’ in doing so. That I had been incredibly lucky to have not been taken as well. They described the kidnapper in this way because no finger prints were ever found on any of the furniture. My brother had never made a sound at the time and most importantly, there was no sign of a break in at all. None of the windows had been broken, the doors weren’t busted. Nothing.
Several days before his disappearance my father found a painting while rummaging around in the attic.… Read the rest