The Gypsies - By Eva

It was a cloudy December afternoon when I picked up the hitchhikers. The gypsy woman and her children. The runaways.

From a distance it had looked like a sweet old lady with two adorable kids. However, it turned out to be a jumpy, scared looking woman who kept glancing nervously down the road. A boy who had a sly smile on his face and an evil glint in his eyes, these I had initially mistaken for a cheeky grin and a happy sparkle. The seemingly sweet looking little girl holding a fluffy golden teddy bear was the worst of all, close up the teddy bear was grey, worn and ragged. Her hair was long, uncut and unwashed. She looked hurt and scared, she looked...used.

I could hardly say no to them, but they climbed in before I had a chance to say a word. The little girl began urging me to start the engine, her mother frantically shushing her.

After the worlds longest silence and fruitless attempts to find out who these people were, where they were from and where they were going, I heard a faint “clip-clop” the girl turned in her seat and screamed in terror.

I almost laughed, at that moment the red-faced man on a flailing horse attached to an extravagant gypsy carriage bouncing along the road looked pretty funny. I didn’t even think to speed up. The old lady had gone white as a sheet, illuminating the deep red scars covering her face. That’s when I knew.

I was to late, try as I might, I could not escape, I could not save these people. In a last desperate attempt to save these virtual strangers, I spun the wheel and the car skidded across the road. This only made it easier for them.

After we were caught we were blindfolded and knocked out.

I woke up in a camp full of rowdy men. But I know they’re there somewhere, other women, and children to, hidden away behind bars like me,

and that’s how I became a gypsy.