A Little Bit of Me

Jottings and Writing, miscellanous misgivings

The She

Mia dialled. The idea had not fully formed in her head yet, and, she wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do. A stiffened reply from the other end of the telephone.

‘Wicham Police Station. How may I help?’

Mia felt a temor pass up through her legs, through that region of her body she could not bear to contemplate and then shudder up her spine. She slammed the receiver down. There had to be a better way to do this. To finish this right. To…. Her thoughts trailed off as she thought of the weeks and possibly months that lay ahead.

Meanwhile Fredericke dreamed. He was lying in a narrow bed. His thoughts were drifting off to form dreams. He heard a rustling of wings. Large wings. Was he still awake or now dreaming? He sensed rather than felt, a large presence descend onto the bed. An unpleasant smell accompanied the feather like structure. He sensed the wings enveloping his body. He felt suffocated as the beast crushed his small body.

The little boy climbed the play frame blissfully unaware that not fifty metres away lay two of the most sadistic killers in the history of crime. They, in turn, watched him, one in the certain knowledge that this would be a watershed in their personal and criminal relationship. They watched as his little Mickey Mouse hat, with little white ears, disappeared over the rim of the frame and he somersaulted over the other side. Fredericke moved in what Mia thought to be haste. He quickly halved the distance between himself and the playground equipment. Mia hesitated, then followed, uncertain as to what her part was to be in this unfolding mystery. Suddenly, from the surrounding bushes, a phalanx of bodies emerged, heavily armed and screaming different instructions. ‘Freeze motherfucker’, ‘Police – stop’, ‘Get down on the ground – Now,’ ‘ Police-you’re under arrest.’ Fredericke turned to look at Mia and, for an instant, a look passed over his face of betrayal, of love, of trust, of hate. Mia dropped. Rough hands pulled her arms behind her back and handcuffs were painfully applied. She could feel the cold metal burning into her wrists. She heard the sounds of feet on bodies, she moved her head, and looking under her arm, she could see heavy boots thumping into the side of Frederickes’s body. She grimaced as she was jerked to her feet and she could see Fredericke lying in a pool of blood as they moved their attention to his head. She thought of yelling for them to stop but realised that she may focus their administrations on to herself. She was led away.

The she-hawk circled the barren countryside from hundreds of feet. Her yellow eyes blinked as he pinpointed a rustle in the paddock at the base of the hillock. Her attention became totally focussed on that one spot. Her wings went back, her neck extended; she went into a steep dive. Her speed increase as she rushed headlong to the ground. At the last moment before impact, she thrust forward her legs, talons extended. They struck as the young fledgling tried desperately to regain the shallow hollow, that moments before had been his home. That he had gained the comforting warmth of his brothers and sisters while their mother went in search of food. The she-hawk felt the extra weight as she lifted skywards again, her wings now bearing the extra weight of bird and prey. She felt the life slowly draining from the bleeding body beneath her. She looked for a suitable spot to begin the dismemberment.

Final session 23/9/95. Fredericke continues to be withdrawn. His moments of lucidity, observed during session five and eight, have now receded. It would appear that he has entered a fugue-like state. Occasional snatches of conversation and some scribblings suggest that he has avian fantasies. The relationship of these to past or recent events remains obscure and will probably continue to remain that way unless there is a gross change in Fredericke’s mental state. The subject Mia continues to present a complex clinical puzzle. While my personal opinion is that she is of sound mind and should stand trial as an equal of Frederickes for these ghastly crimes, I am aware that defense counsel has credible psychiatric sources who are willing to testify that she is mentally incompetent. My overbearing impression of Mia is a statement she made to me as I left our last session. After being belligerent and uncooperative for the duration of the session she turned to me as she was being escorted form the room and simply said ‘I did it because I could.’ Out of context, this statement could have meant either her betrayal of Fredericke or her part in the killings.

Mia could see him through the one way mirror. He had aged since the last occasion she had been allowed this privilege. His once proud shoulders now stooped. His skin, once beautiful, seemed sallow and grey. His eyes were dull. She heard the words from the man she assumed to be the lawyer telling Fredericke what he had written on the pad before him. Mia assumed that it was taken verbatim from the statement she had made earlier in the day. She watched as Fredericke’s eyes darted to the mirror of the room, as if he senses that someone, perhaps Mia, was watching. She saw his shoulders slump further as the weight of her accusations sank in. She saw a small, almost imperceptible movement of his head, and then saw his nod of approval. She saw his life leave him as his hands moved forward to grasp the pen proffered by the lawyer. She didn’t know what she felt.

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