A Neat Mess

13.A Broken Doll

"What's the occasion?" Sam asked.

"I am going to check on Jenna," Lucille said as she leapt up from the couch and rushed upstairs.

Ben put the bottle on the bench. "Just thought it has been a while since this house has been incident-free. We should celebrate that!"

On a Wednesday? She had to put a stop to letting negative thoughts constantly take over her decision-making. The problem was, she couldn't stop them from entering her head in the first place. She'd been about to blurt out, 'go upstairs and have a look at Jenna's face to see what incident-free looks like.

Ben brought the glass over to where Sam was sitting and filled it right to the top. "Celebrating with one glass?" Sam asked.

"Uh, I thought you'd just have a sip or two from mine as usual?" Ben said, surprised.

Compounding Ben's confusion was the fact that Sam never drank any alcohol except on very rare social occasions, which now had been reduced to hardly once a year. Ben rushed to the kitchen and brought another glass before Sam could change her mind.

"We should do this more often," Sam remarked, clinking her glass against his. Neither of them knew at that time that this would be their last drink together.

"Did you notice what happened to the front garden rose bush on your way in? Apparently, Jenna fell onto it and is now covered in scratches."

"I didn't pay much attention," Ben replied as he stood up. "Nothing caught my eye. I'll be back," he added, heading towards the bathroom.

A sense of unease gnawed at Sam. She still hadn't gathered the courage to ask Jenna the pressing question:

"Has he ever touched you?"

In her mind, Sam could still hear her mother's frantic voice demanding that question. Now that the situation felt all too real with her own daughter, Sam understood the urgency in her mother's tone. Back then, she had been crouched on the floor, while her mother stood in front of her, next to a grey metal cupboard. Through her tears, Sam had responded, "No, Mom, he didn't!"

BANG! Her mother had punched the cupboard.

"Liars! You're covering for him! Maybe you liked it? You did like it, didn't you?"

Sam had cried uncontrollably. "Nothing happened! Nothing ever happened!"

"I don't see much celebrating here! Your glass is still half full!" Ben's voice snapped Sam back to the present.

A loud crash echoed from upstairs, jolting Ben and Sam from their seats. For a moment, they exchanged alarmed glances, but their worry quickly shifted to resignation—they were all too familiar with the chaos that followed Jenna's outbursts. Jenna must have woken up and discovered Lucille in her room, perhaps trying to tidy up or investigate something she shouldn't have. The mystery of why Jenna had decided to hurl a toy to the floor or smash it against the wall remained unsolved. The couple exchanged tense looks, bracing for the next noise, but it seemed Lucille was managing the situation—until the sounds grew more intense.

A second crash followed by a third resonated through the house.

"Ouch, that hurt!" Lucille's voice, laced with pain, rang out.

The fourth smash sent Ben and Sam sprinting upstairs, hearts pounding. They found Lucille huddled in the corner by Jenna's toy box, her face twisted in distress. Jenna stood defiantly, gripping a toy car, her eyes blazing with fury as she prepared to hurl it at Lucille.

"I said I'm sorry!" Lucille shouted, her voice trembling.

"Drop it, Jenna," Ben commanded, his tone unyielding.Jenna dropped the toy, but she looked furious, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. At that moment, Ben thought she looked more intimidating than cute.

"What happened?" Sam asked as she helped Lucille to her feet.

"I accidentally tripped over one of the toys, which woke her up. Within seconds, toys were flying at me," Lucille explained.

"See? This is exactly why you need to keep your bedroom tidy," Ben said, kneeling in front of Jenna.

"Honey," Sam said to Ben, "Could you please take Lucille downstairs? Jenna and I need to talk."

"It's my fault she's so sleep-deprived and tired," Lucille murmured as she left the room.

Sam tried to have a brief conversation with Jenna to make it clear that throwing things at people was unacceptable. Jenna, still frowning deeply, made little jumps and emitted muffled noises, as if she wanted to scream but kept her mouth closed.

Frustrated with Sam's attempts at an "adult" conversation, Jenna pointed to her favourite doll lying on the floor. It was a doll that played music and she had used to fall asleep to since she was a baby. She named her Aggie. 

Sam picked up Aggie and tried to fix it while Jenna watched with a pouty face. The music played briefly before turning into eerie, scrambled noises.

Jenna began to cry and fell into Sam's arms.

"I'll take her to the little doll's hospital," Sam said reassuringly.

Still, Sam wondered why Jenna's doll was on the floor. She never went to bed without it. What was it doing on the floor?