‘Priscilla!’

She sniffled. ‘Papa…Papa…Papa…’ she said then she stopped crying. She slowly swerved her head. Her eyes settled on Sineas. She leapt from her position towards him, her eyes speaking murderous intent.

Janice was ready for her though. Stepping in front of her sister, she grabbed her arms from the front. Although being the younger and smaller sister, she was able to keep her at bay. Priscilla’s grief had obviously weakened her.

She raved all the more, looking over Janice’s shoulder, ‘Say, “hello, papa! Hello, papa”! Say it! Say, “hello, papa!” ’ After a while of struggle, her body finally gave in. she collapsed into Janice’s chest, her body motionless.

‘Is that all the information you have, ma’am?’

Janice had finally called the police who had arrived with the medic team as well. The police officer questioning her was in his uniform. A blue jacket, blue trousers and black formal shoes. The two medals pinned on the left pocket of his grey shirt suggested that he had attained a respectable rank over the years. His deputy was standing just beside the television set. Janice thought he was a rookie. The way he kept his eyes glued at them indicated that he was absorbing everything taking place. The senior officer was finding it hard to conceal his shock whilst he scribbled into the small notebook in his hand. At every second he would steal a glimpse of Abraham’s corpse as two heavily built male nurses carried it through the door on a stretcher. His twitching black moustache obviously betrayed that he was repeating Janice’s words as he wrote them down. She thought he was too young to be a police officer of such authority. He was too good-looking for such a position. 

‘Yes. Yes, I think that is all, sir,’ she finally replied to the question, gently stroking Sineas’ shoulder. He was standing ever closer to her.

‘Where is my son? Let me go, I want my baby!’ Priscilla had finally woken up but after what Janice had told the police, upon re-gaining consciousness, two nurses- a male and female - put leather restraints on her. ‘I want my son! Baby! Baby!’ she cried out to him. ‘Baby, please come to mama!’

He tried to walk towards her but Janice pulled him back. ‘No, Sin.’

‘Give me my son, Janice! You whore! You slut! Witch! Give me my son!’

Janice strengthened her grip on Sineas’ shoulder. ‘It’s okay, my boy. Everything will be fine from now on,’ she reassured him amidst her sister’s demanding cries as they carried her out of the house.

‘How long has she been like this?’

 Janice and Sineas had been brought into the police station by the senior officer and they watched through the two-way mirror at Priscilla sitting at a table across a man wearing a lab coat.  They had come to learn that the senior officer’s name was Charles. He was an Inspector. ‘Ever since we were kids,’ she answered him. She pulled in Sineas much closer to her side. ‘Any traumatizing ordeal like the death of our parents is enough to take anyone’s sanity away,’ she added. ‘I think the car accident must have triggered something inside her. Certain…moods.’

‘Moods?’

‘A certain kind of anger. A rage…makes her hate everything around her. Sometimes.’

‘I know about your parents’ accident,’ said Inspector Charles. ‘They called it the “Murphy” case. The lead detective said it wasn’t clear whether it was an accident or…’

‘Since it’s unsolved, let’s call it what it is; an accident,’ Janice said.

He shrugged. ‘Any guess as to what her “condition” might be?’

She shrugged too. ‘Could be anything.’ Her face turned serious.

Priscilla looked glum. The skin below her eyes was now sagging lower. Her hair was greatly unkempt. It looked like two birds of prey had attempted to build a nest in it but gave up before completion. She was in a straitjacket, her face staring blankly into the table like she had been drugged. The table was the only furniture in the room. Opposite her sat Doctor Darren Jacob. Just like the Murphys, he was also of African descent. Black people were the majority race in the small neighbourhood of Breechwood. Doctor Jacob was bald, which actually made him look a lot younger than he was. The conspicuous pimples on his face betrayed a man who was obsessed with shaving off his facial hair. Besides his lab coat, the only thing visible were his black slacks and brown farmer shoes. He shuffled the small stack of papers on the table before him. 

 He said, ‘Now, Priscilla; let’s start at the very beginning. Is there anything your son may have done or said that made you act like that towards him?’

She persisted in her silence.

‘O-kay, allow me to re-phrase the question. Why did you hurt Sineas?’

More silence.

He sighed. ‘Priscilla, I’m trying my best to…’

‘I want to see him,’ she mumbled with her eyes still staring blankly into the table.

‘Pardon?’

‘I said I want to see my son, Doctor Jacob.’ She raised her eyes towards him. They did not betray any expression.

‘I’m afraid with the condition you’re in, that may be a little difficult to achieve, Priscilla.’

‘Doctor Jacob, I want my son now!’ she banged her knees beneath the table.

He slightly jumped, almost from his seat, startled. He nervously adjusted his tie. He turned his eyes to the door, the only exit, as if ready to leap for it if she made an attempt to attack him. ‘Priscilla, even if we were to allow you to see him, there is no guarantee that you won’t lash out as before.’

She leaned in closer towards him from across the table. ‘But I’ve changed…I’ve changed. Can’t you tell by my sexy smile?’ She attempted what almost looked like a grin at him. It shook as if ready to mutate into something else.

‘Priscilla, I think you should sit down.’ The advice sounded more like a warning.

‘Psssht!’ She scowled then sat back down. The impact of her buttocks striking the steel chair produced a thud. She turned her attention to the two-way mirror. Of course, all she could see was her own reflection. But it looked as if she could see right through it. ‘I won’t let her have my son,’ she muttered.