Jane recognized the sensation of not being in control of herself. It had happened all her life. In her earliest memory, she remembered losing control just before her fifth birthday. Her mother had asked her to do something in the bedroom. It was either to clean off the bed, or, to pull up the sheets, or something or other to do with tidying up the room. It had been so long ago that the exact chore wasn’t an issue any more. Jane only remembered that she didn’t want to clean up her room and that she had wanted to color in her new book.
“You may not come out of your room until you finish your work.” There was a soft click as the door closed.
Jane went into a rage. She ripped the curtains off the window. It felt good.
“That will hurt Mommie,” she thought. But, she wanted to hurt Mommie more.
Jane tore the sheets and ripped up the bedspread with her teeth and did what damage she could do with her new paper scissors. She rolled up the dirty clothes and stuffed them under the bed. She took anything that she could and put anything anywhere that it didn’t belong. She wanted everything upside down. It felt good to mess up her room and to hurt Mommie. The more she destroyed the better she felt.
* * *
Jane woke up and looked into the dark. Her bedroom window showed a picture of night and pretty stars. She was thirsty and hungry. She pretended to ice skate in her fluffy yellow slippers down the wooden floor hallway to find her Mommie. Mommie’s voice sounded scared and sad. Daddy was talking low and soft.
“She only threw a temper tantrum,” her father said.
Jane stopped skating by her Mommie and Daddy’s room and held her breath.
“No! She did not just throw a temper tantrum, George. She was like a crazed, wild animal in there. She pissed all over her bed and rubbed shit on the windows and walls. There is something wrong with her! That’s not normal,” her mother slapped her face in her hands and started to cry in sobs.
Jane peeked through the cracked open door into her parents’ bedroom. They were sitting on the edge of the bed. Her mother’s head was down in her hands and her father was sitting by her looking down at the floor.
* * *
The hall between Jane’s room and the master bedroom was dark and small. A sliver of light glowed from the little crack that was slightly ajar by the doorway.
“I dare you to press your nose on that door,” the voice in her head taunted.
“What good would that do?” Jane whispered. But she knew it would be fun to listen and see them without getting caught. If she bumped the door sneaking too close to it, it would be bad.
Jane sniffed around the curb instead. Daddy’s Vitalis hair tonic fumed behind the door and smelled wonderful. She could hear them better closer to the door.
“Why don’t we go to bed and see about this in the morning,” he sighed. “I’m tired and I have to go in early to the office with revised blueprints.”
“You just go home, it’s one o’clock in the morning now and you have to go in early?”
Jane frowned. “Mommie looks very mad at Daddy.” Jane wanted to cut Mommie with the big scissors that were in the top kitchen drawer. Jane liked the idea to hurt Mommie. She watched them without making a sound in the hall.
“What Jane did today was not normal!” Her mother cried harder. “George, you weren’t here and you didn’t see what she did. You go ahead and go to work and pretend it’s only a temper tantrum, but I’m taking her to a psychiatrist in the morning. I’ve already made the appointment.”
George slapped his leg and stood up, “Al right then, what do you want from me? I’m going to bed.” He started to walk to the door where Jane was.
Jane backed up through the hall, keeping her eyes on her father until she couldn’t see him anymore. She turned around the corner and flew into her bed, diving onto the mattress under the covers in one smooth move. “Why was her Mommie sad and crying like a baby? What did I do?” She didn’t remember anything except jumping up and down on her bed. She did remember a bath and some help from Mommie putting on her pajamas today. “What happened? Daddy said I just got a little out of control. Jane loved her Daddy. Daddy didn’t seem mad at her, she thought. The last thing he said to Mommie was, “Try not to make more out of it Victoria.” He seemed mad at Mommie. That made Jane feel good and smile. She still had her fluffy slippers on but her feet were cold anyway. She curled up on her side and went back to sleep with a big grin on her face. The sleep that takes babies away came for her.