Whispers Across the Moon

1

When I was thirteen years old, I was abducted away by human traffickers.

I yearned to return home every single day.

During a transfer as they were loading me into a van, I seized an opportunity when they weren't paying attention, broke free from the ropes, and leaped out of the moving vehicle.

One of the men inside the van cursed and swiftly jumped out to chase after me.

I sprinted wildly ahead, running until I reached a bustling street.

I stumbled and fell right in front of a woman.

With tears in my eyes, I pleaded, "Ma'am, I've been kidnapped, please, you've got to save me."

The trafficker caught up to me and seized me, then he told the woman, "I apologize, she's just having a tantrum and saying nonsense. She's my own daughter, and this is a tantrum she likes to throw."

I was utterly terrified, and my attempt to argue was met with a swift slap that silenced me.

Standing next to the woman was a tall, thin young man in a school uniform. He fixed his gaze on her and calmly said, "Mom, I believe what she's saying."

Without much delay, he dialled the police.

The trafficker's face grew darker.

He quickly turned aggressive, forcefully pulling me back.

I clung tightly to the woman, while the young man pushed the trafficker to make him release his grip.

It continued until sirens blared nearby.

The trafficker's expression changed, and he let go of me before making a run for it.

This unquestionably confirmed his identity as a trafficker.

He ran too fast and managed to escape.

But now, another question arose - where could I go?

I was very young and had no recollection of any information about my family.

At that time, it seemed like the only option was going to a foster home.

But the boy pleaded with her to adopt me.

The woman's face bore signs of exhaustion and aging.

I knew she wasn't initially keen on taking me in.

However, in response to her son's heartfelt plea, she eventually relented.

And so, they brought me to their home.

Their house had warm lighting and cozy blankets, creating a truly comforting atmosphere.

Yet, as welcoming as this home was, it wasn't my true home.

Every day, I still dreamt of returning to my real home.

2

Even though I was abducted, I still recall my biological parents naming me Kathryn Wilson.

And this young man, his name is Travis Lewis.

He's a top-notch student. Once, I peeked into his locker and noticed a stack of achievement certificates.

It seemed he didn't have a father figure in his life, being raised solely by his mother.

He cared deeply for me, and when he learned I was missing my family, he took it upon himself to help me find my mom and dad.

First, he printed numerous flyers and distributed them to the locals.

Then, he used his mother's Facebook account to post online, assisting