(This story was lent by one of my friends, Julian, who rather be called "glasses boy" and he decided to give me this story so that I may have another short story. I usually don't write horror but he wrote this and he gave it to me. If you think this is a lot different from my other stories, now you know why.)
It was that time of year again where you get to have your daughter for 6 months. The house has never been the same without your little bundle of joy so you tidied up the place for her and took her to ice cream. Right before you go to sleep, you watch the news like you always do. The news reporters are talking and it's time for the big piece. "Breaking news in the Houston area, there have been many reports of children kidnappings in the area so lock your doors and watch your kids. All victims have been found dead." says one of the reporters. They then show one of the victims, a little girl, 7 years old, just like your little kid. "I don't know what happened! All I heard was the door closing and an ice cream truck in the middle of the night. Then my little Erza was gone.". It was the parent. You shut off the T.V and think to yourself, "If I ever see anyone try to take my girl, I'll beat them right there." You go to sleep stuck on that thought. Would you fight someone trying to take my girl?
You sleep, turning tirelessly, in your slumber. Then you hear something, "What's that noise?" You hear a 2 doors slam. The first one is the door to my daughter's room, and another that sounded like the front door. Then you hear the ice cream truck. "No," You shout. "No, this can't be happening." You look out your bedroom window, giving you visibility to the front. You see your girl, talking to the man with a mask in the ice cream truck. Your instincts make you do whatever it takes to get her back. You get the nearest item and break the glass with it. "Run! Get away from the ice cream truck!" Then she was gone. When the glass broke, the man swept her off her feet and put her in the back of the truck. By the time you said something, she was gone. You look around and see the item you used. It was a picture. A picture of a not so broken family. Your family.
A month has passed since the accident. Everything is gone. Your will to live and your bundle of joy. The police found her. She had been beaten and dismembered. She had been assaulted in more ways than one. She was gone, and they're still out there. She appeared on the news, had the same reporter say the same thing, and you see you. Being the sad parent, thinking you would do everything you could to save her. You were wrong. All you did was shout. Now all you have is a bottle of whiskey and the end of a loaded gun. "I'll see you soon, my bundle of joy."