To this day, I get physically sick when I remember the event that I will describe here. It lasted for only about half an hour, but it is the single most horrifying experience of my entire life.
One day in late summer when my daughter was three years old, I put my newborn son in the stroller, and took them both out to the park.
My daughter played with other kids, did her rounds on the swing, slides and other fun playground rides, and then it was time to go home. I needed to feed my little one, and the evening was slowly creeping in.
We went towards our apartment building, and my daughter was running around me, picking flowers and leaves, chatting about what some little girl said to her in the playground.
The entrance of the building is facing the playground. It stands on a wide plateau, next to a bank, a library, some weird workplace-injuries office, pizza place and a grocery store.
There are also pillars on the plateau, and my daughter loves to hide behind them, screaming with laughter when I look for her and finally find her.
She ran and disappeared.
There was a sudden jolt in my heart, but I dismissed it.
I called her name and started looking for her, saying the same silly things as every time:
"Where is my little girl?"
"Oh, no, the goblins stole her!"