The Mother

The woman is visibly agitated as she paces around the beautifully decorated room, her eyes shifting from the wall clock to her phone lying on the bed every three minutes.

The maids don't dare approach her in this mood except they're begging for a whip or their abrupt maiming.

Back and forth she paces the length of a guest room as agitation simmers into murderous rage.

The phone rings and she answers with a little difficulty.

“Is it true?” She demands, her voice high with emotion.

“Uh…” The man stammers.

“Answer my goddamn question!” She screams into the phone.

“We entered the doctor's office but before we could grab him, he began convulsing.” Another male answers.

“Useless! The bunch of you are useless!”

“My apologies Mistress, do you need us for something else?”

“Yes, shoot that coward. Make sure to aim where it hurts.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She ends the call and her rage overtakes her as drawers are pulled out, the round table smashed in, the TV upside down with two holes pro