She stood, shivered and shook. She stared, saw and suffered the trauma of the whole tragic experience. She was just 5, but in the mind she was 15. She was so cute, but inside she was a time bomb waiting to be exploded. She looked so scared but looked scarier on the inside. She was a feeble kid with a fierce mind.
She looked at the disaster all around her. Pieces of shattered glasses, broken utensils, spewed food ingredients and free-flowing blood. She gawked at the great man who used to be her dad, who taught her to be strong and fight away bullies in school. Who trailed and caught well known criminals, who handcuffed high-handed assassins. Yeah, he handled all the bad men, but will never hit a woman. Because of that trivial weakness, he now lay in his own blood; his skull smashed into two, letting room for the remains of an ugly and useless organ, called the brain, creep sheepishly out of its cage. The saying that ‘no one uses up to 5% of the brain’ is really true. In fact, it rates a hundred and fifty percent. It explains why a well renowned criminal detective, despite all the construction and hand-in-hand ejection of the cerebrum and medulla oblaganta would be so vulnerable to a woman.
A woman? No, that was no woman. She realized it now. It was a mad woman. Her mother had run mad. The woman who carried her for nine-months, who made her together with this horrendous corpse, who named her Sasha, had run mad. Yeah, they say her name meant defender. Well, right now, she was going to defend the dead.
Her mum who had been staring and shivering out of fear from one corner of the kitchen crawled out, tears rolling down her cheeks. “My God, Sasha, I’m sorry.” She whimpered. She knelt beside her dead husband and cried, “God, I killed him. Please forgive me.” This was really disgusting to Sasha. “He’s dead.” She cried. “He can’t speak, he can’t forgive you, I can’t forgive you, you’re a murderer.” “Oh my God, Sasha, please.” Her mum reached out for her hand. “Don’t touch me, you want to kill me too.” “It wasn’t intentional; it was a five minute madness.”
Five minute madness? She had heard of that. Does it really happen? She never believed in stuff like that so it could not explain the disaster her monster mother just created. Suddenly, like electricity all the way from her foot to her spine. She was turning into a lion. It felt good. She strawed in all her breadth and released the most screeching scream. No, it was a roar. Her mum backed off in terror. Was it her mum? She couldn’t see anything, every where was red. It wasn’t her mum, it was a prey, one that would satisfy her thirst for blood, and suddenly she grabbed a cookie jar from the table and smashed it on her prey. Tick – tack – was that just 5 minutes? It all happened in five minutes. Slowly, she came back to herself, like a deflating balloon. She took in a deep breadth to register in her surrounding. All she saw was two smashed skulls at her feet. The one that had some long hair had pieces if broken cookies jar around it. ----- She- She just killed her mum. Then it occurred to her, she just had her 5 minutes madness…..
‘Turn off that TV and go wash the dishes!’ A screech came from the kitchen. The kid who was watching the movie was suddenly snapped back into reality. Slowly, as she switched off the TV set and headed towards the kitchen, she couldn’t help but wonder if all the times her mum screeched, screamed and ranted, it was all due to her own almost – too – regular five minute madness.
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