Struck by lightning!

Zara could be found seated next to her stepmother on the steps beneath the heavy rain with her arms around her knees as she waits for the police to arrive. The woman on the phone said the police would be with her in three minutes but this three minutes feels like an hour to the trembling child.

Strong wind blows cold into her small body as the small stings that come with the rain that hits against her skin does nothing more than kill her body's warmth. All the while a stream of a thousand thoughts flows into her mind, both hope and fear reside within each of these thoughts but none could provide relief to the fear choking her.

A police siren suddenly could be heard from a distance but it was actually coming from the driveway and its sound is being drowned in the deafening rumble of the sky and the heavy platter of the rain against the roofs of houses and the ground.

Zara slowly lifts her head from her arms where they were recently nestled and almost immediately the blue and red light hit her eyes causing her to squint but she had no strength in her to lift her arm to block the bright light from momentarily blinding her eyes. For this reason, she doesn't see the two tall men in police uniforms jump out of their car and quickly jog to where she is.

She doesn't realise they are in front of her until the one who quickly picks her up blocks the light with his body. As she is being carried by one police officer through the door she left ajar, she watches over his shoulder as the other officer places two fingers on the neck of her stepmother.

The sight of the officer is lost from Zara's view as she's carried into the living room and gently placed on the couch.

"What's your name?" The officer asks as he goes down on one knee in front of her.

His blue eyes seem to glow with warmth but the way water slides down his pinkish bald head distracts her momentarily, and when the droplet lands on his moustache which oddly rests above his lips as though they've been shifted to the side. "Is he wearing a fake moustache? Is he that bald? But he looks too young to be bald." Zara couldn't help but converse with herself internally.

"My name is Officer Dexter and I want to help you, what happened here?" Due to her lack of reaction, he begins to wonder if the child is actually deaf.

"I've called an ambulance, they should be here in fifteen minutes or so." The bald-headed officer with a falling yellow moustache nods with understanding in response to his partner who just walked into the living room as he rises to his feet, "What did she say happened here?"

"Nothing, I think the child is deaf." Zara watches as the officer in front of her takes a quick look around the house with his hand on his waist, he suddenly lifts a finger into the air and makes a swirling motion as he says, "Let me take a quick sweep of the house, see if anyone else is around, you can stay with the child, try sign language if you know how."

He doesn't wait for a response from his partner, he quickly walks out of the living room.

The police officer walks over to where the small child is quietly seated the moment he looks into her big brown eyes it melts his heart. She reminds him of his little boy at home. He decides to sit beside the child then opens up his arms inviting her for a hug, he's hoping she would take it and collect some of his warmth, thankfully she falls into his embrace and stays still as he wraps his arms around her, "Are you hurt?" He asks softly.

She shakes her head no, he lets out a sigh of relief just as he notices Zara looking at his badge hanging on his belt, he sends a warm smile her way hoping he would help her open up, "Do you like it? Think it's cool?"

She nods her head as a small smile begins to grow on her face. He then asks, "Do you want to become a policewoman?"

"N-no, sir. What about mum? Can you help her get up?" she says lowly, he wouldn't have known she spoke to him if he didn't see her lips move.

"Where's your dad?" He asks quietly.

"He's out of town." She answers just as low as a whisper, "Where's mum, is she gonna be ok?" The police officer doesn't get the chance to respond to her inquisition because his partner walks in while shaking his head no as a signal to let him know no one else is in the house.

The other officer sitting with Zara in his embrace begins to quietly ask her questions about how the situation occurred meanwhile his partner's mouth hangs open in shock as he watches the child speak even though she stammers throughout the conversation but manages to let them understand what happened from the moment her stepmother left the house to the point she comes out and finds her lying outside under the rain.

She, however, avoids mentioning anything regarding her stepmother's treatment of her. The police officers collect her father's number and dials it multiple times but he remains unreachable on all tries and they are left a bit unsure if they should tell her about the reality on ground and take her to the station or wait for whoever her father is to respond so as not to take the child into uncomfortable situations.

It is not the first time they are assigned a case where a child is left alone at home. As the officer who still has Zara leaning into him lets his mind rake through his memory of large numbers of cases a parent or guardian leaves their child at home he can't help but feel that not everyone deserves to have a child.

He knew at some point this child would b told she found her mother dead on the front porch and that's a trauma no one deserves to carry. It could have been avoided if there were an adult in the house with her in the first place, she wouldn't have been under the rain.

He sighs heavily as he recounts the body he just examined outside and he can already tell they're dealing with a natural death, that is if you can call being struck by lightning to death a natural way to die.

It is at this moment he seizes the opportunity to look around the house, he takes note of the family picture hanging high above the fireplace where a brown television sits on top of a plain white table at the far right corner of the room while all three couches are positioned to have a view of both the fireplace and television.

There are a couple of family pictures hung on the wall on the left side of the sitting room, the pictures are filled with images of either a man and the now-dead woman on the porch or both of them with the child who's still sitting quietly beside him and apparently finds chewing her fingernails interesting.

"When did your dad leave the house?" He asks her, a part of him hopes the father is responsible enough to leave her in his care instead of having to hand him over to the court for child neglect, seeing as his dead partner planned on leaving a ten-year-old by herself in this big house.

"H-he left i-in the mo-morn-morning." She answers quietly. Our little brown-eyed girl can't help but feel the unease floating in the air, she knew something is wrong but she can't think of what exactly is wrong. She just knows she wants to be in the arms of her dad and not this officer but she's so cold.

Their small conversation is interrupted by the partner who once more has water rolling down his bald pinkish head.

"Manny, there are no signs of foul play." He says this as he walks over to them stopping in front of them all the while his two thumbs remain hooked in his belt loop. This is a habit the bald hag had formed during his years operating within the police force. "What about the ambulance? They should hurry up so we they can examine the child" Officer Dexter says with a gruff underlying in his tone because a part of him couldn't understand why the girl refused to speak to him, "Is it because he's white and his partner is black like the girl? Nah, I don't think that's it, but could it be?" These thoughts quietly swirl in his mind after all it's 1967, anything is possible, and people raise their children in a weird way these days.

"They would be here in five minutes or less," Officer Manny responds. Then he looks at the girl then asks, "What is the name of your dad's office?"

"Do you think she would know it?" Officer Dexter questions with disbelief coating his face.

"I-I do! It-ts called Tra-Trading Bro-broker firm." For the first time since these two officers met this child, they see a real sign of life in her. It had been expected that she would be curious at the very least but she had been so quiet the whole time. At least now she is speaking up more.

Officer Dexter steps away from Zara and she immediately misses his warmth as he receives a call from the station, "Yeah, yeah, we are here." He listens to the receiver, "We need you guys to call–" He then turns to the child and asks, "What's your dad's name?"

"Mr Jacobs." her voice is low yet loud enough for him to hear.

"Call Mr Jacobs at Trading Broker firm to return to his home, there's an emergency. His house address is thirty-five Bush Street." He relays to his colleague at the station.

After a few minutes, the cry of an ambulance could be heard outside. This makes the officers spring into action, he leaves Officer Dexter with the girl and steps out to assist.

Officer Dexter notices Zara's eyes drooping to which he tells her, "Sleep don't worry, your dad is on his way."

She nods her head as a yawn escapes her mouth showing just how tired she is. The thought of putting the child into something warmer suddenly hits him, or she might really catch a cold so he momentarily leaves trying to locate a bedroom downstairs.

He luckily finds one, he hurriedly takes the duvet and returns to the child making sure to wrap her in it. She quietly says thank you as she snuggles into the warm duvet.

Officer Dexter is suddenly taken aback by the man in a pink and white suit running into the living room. A rooster's bum being exposed by the wind is what this man's head resembles. It's the only thing he could think of.

The man rips his glasses off his face the moment his eyes land on the police officer standing in his sitting room.

"Where's Zara?" Mr Jacobs' voice comes out rushed and breathy. If one could place a hand on his chest they would feel his heart beating fast like a goat about to get slaughtered.

"She just fell asleep not long, good evening sir." Officer Dexter says while he uses his thumb to point at the little child sleeping peacefully on the sofa.

Mr Jacobs quickly walks closer to them and then bends to take a closer look at his only child, he gently yet quickly checked her hands and legs for any sign of injury, when he sees that she's alright, a breath of relief flows out of his lips. He had felt his heart jump out of his mouth when he was called at the office that there was an emergency at home. The worst thing he could think of on his quick drive home was a burglary.

Never in a million years would he expect to see his wife being carried away in a black body bag!

All he could think of is Zara, he needed to make sure she was alright. He didn't spare a second to weep for his loss, he needed to make sure his only child is alive and well.

Much to his relief, she looks fine. He pats her head gently.

"Officer, please what happened to my wife?" Officer Dexter could hear the brokenness seep into Mr Jacobs' voice, he could only feel sorry for him as relayed what he knew regarding the recent occurrence.

Mr Jacobs' mind develops a whirlwind of thoughts within itself as the news of his wife's death triggers a strange feeling of numbness.

The news sucks out all the strength from his body which causes him to stumble onto the carpet-covered floor, he doesn't bother to get up. Officer Dexter takes that as he cue and excuses himself the moment he sees a single tear roll down Mr Jacobs' face.

While all this happened, Zara's ears perk up as she listens to what the Officer had discussed with her dad.

At the end of it all, Zara now knew the reality that had been staring her in the face the whole time; her stepmother is dead, struck by lightning as a matter of fact and would still be investigated for child neglect.

Zara truly doesn't know how she is supposed to feel in such a situation. How does one feel bad for the death of an oppressor?