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by wallacetrust watosen
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In violence and experience, those huge warders had stabbed in a calculated dose of another tranquilizer into the struggling but manifesting patient. A moment later, dirty words and curses spat out of his pale purple lips as this mal-nourished teenager crawled up into a far corner of the cubicle and further shrunk into his already over-sized pajamas, withdrawn. He was only fifteen years but he looked fifty; all because his mother had deprived him the joy of family.

Soon the warders all trooped out. They did not bother to observe him so carefully; otherwise, they could have noticed that he was still trembling. Even though he fought hard to keep calm, the appetite of the 20 billion nerve cells in his body conquered his efforts with a ravenous crave for satisfaction, so deep that the haloperidol sedative he was given could barely take effect. Over time, his diminished delicate body had become very drug-deadened with heroine opiates, cocaine and marijuana. Now, he was only responsive to a few selected anti-psychotic drugs. Unfortunately, this new sedative was not one of those few.

Since he was not as lucid as he portrayed, his composure had to be nervous. His head had dropped low but as two women strolled in, he lifted his eyes. In them, he flashed a vicious gaze of hatred and disdain for something and someone he could not remember forgetting. However, the usual redness in his eyes, coupled with the swellings around his dark-banded lids, all blended his distaste to pass for fatigue.

With hallucinations after hallucination, he hardened to paranoid. Flash-back birthed his anger the more he saw the high-class executive woman, who wrecked his life, walk in. with her was his nurse, yet he cared less. In a spilt second, he jumped at her and sank his fingers into her corporate hair-do. Cursing and screaming, he undid her perm with a firm grip and made attempts to bite at her face. She raised both arms in defence but he caught one of her wrist in his teeth and tasted a stream of blood.

Before the nurse could press the security buzzer and grab at his bright blue polyester garment, he had flung his prey by her hair across the room. The impact was lessened as the woman slammed against the cushioned walls of the intensive-care psychiatric ward. She dropped to the floor, her footwear after her, gasped loudly for help and tried running.

He charged, tore away the nurseís grip and reached ferociously for his target that was fast getting away. The nurse fell away. He dived, then crashed her into the door and followed her to the ground. Her suit tore, and she slummed with blood trickling from her forehead. Without any trace of human sympathy, he grabbed her stray shoe, trying to drive the heel through her temple. Smartly, the nurse caught his hand mid air and the door swung open. For him, every thing went one-second blank.

With blow, belts and syringe, the warders had handled the rest. Helplessly, he was moved to a bedded room in a semi-conscious state and wired to an electroencephalography (EEG) machine.

As the nurse helped the executive with her injuries, their discussions were brief. Later, the female executive went to her mad sonís bedside. She had been advised to recount his happy moments for him but she could not remember any. She could not even remember being a mother. All she had been to him was a career-and-cash woman, too busy to notice that her son had been frustrated into drugs.

She knew it was dangerous enough to grant excessive cash to youngster of his kind. But then, she had to do that to replace the hurt she had caused them both. From the adorable family that she had, she had ripped the family with her naggings, divorced her husband and at last, shattered her sonís sweet memories.

How she wished she could tap into those images of neglect that had hunted his teenage. Nothing worked.

Finally, after many efforts, she sung him a lullaby. He did not stir; but, for the first time in six-months-asylum, beta waves appeared on the EEG monitor. That meant he was concentrating once again. All she needed now was to recall more memories, recall incidents and recall her husband; even though they were memories she remembered forgetting.

Divorce cases have been known to tamper with the mental balance of victim children; such children carry memories of how life must never beÖ

If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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