My Virtual Darcy 🏆 2021 Wattys Shortlister

23 - Berserk

"Yippee! I'm so happy Edward comes out of the hospital today." Amy galloped down the stairs with a plastic box. "Those are the Game Boy console and cartridges I promised him last week when I visited. No need for skin contact, no need for internet connection. Four AA batteries and he's good for hours of fun."

Dad put on his coat then struggled to lace his shoes, his broad shoulders straining the thick wool of his adjusted garment. "There's chicken stew simmering in the slow cooker for dinner, but you can have some for lunch if there isn't enough remaining batter for the banh chew."

"Okay." I nodded as I waited for Mom to put the finishing touches on her makeup, and hand her a jacket.

"Let's go, honey. See you tonight, girls." She sniffed my cheek, then grimaced and rubbed my skin. "Oh, sorry, sweetheart. You got lipstick on your jaw."

Ames waved them goodbye while I faced the hall mirror and tried to get rid of the stain.

"You gotta use some oil-based makeup remover. Mom's cherry lipstick is long-lasting." She paused, before adding with a strangled voice, "It looks like blood."

Indeed, the smudge could pass as an open wound on my chin. I ignored the foreboding that arose at Amy's remark, and plastered a smile. "Whatcha got planned for this sunny Saturday morning?"

Her hand waved towards the living room. "I gotta watch replays of yesterday's newscasts for my Data Analysis assignment. Mark down the titles, then compare how different provinces cover the same story. Wanna keep me company?"

"As thrilling and enticing as this sounds, I'm gonna pass. I have to start my essay on chick lit."

"Oh, pretty please? We could play an eating game? It would be fun. I'd get some candies, and we'd gobble them up according to the news type. Confectionery breakfast?" Ames joined her hands in a prayer stance and fake-pouted.

I caved in at her adorable imitation of Puss in Boots' eyes. "Fine."

Once the contents of the pantry had been raided and piled up on the coffee table, we settled on the couch. While Amy created a spreadsheet on her laptop, I used the TV remote to select the replay services of the first channel on her list.

"Politics, business, health, entertainment, sports," she enumerated pointing out to labels she had placed before each candy bag. "And news when it doesn't fit in other categories."

"I sure hope there will be many reports that won't fit," I said, ogling the peanut butter cups.

And there were. Two hours and three newscasts later, only five cups remained.

"After this station in Winnipeg, I'll have enough data to analyse." Ames took a huge bite of a strawberry Twizzlers. "Urgh. This guy deserved it."

I tore my fluttering eyes from the ginormous pile of gold foil before me, and focused them on the recording.

On the television screen, a security camera video showed a man running in a building entrance, then being bludgeoned by a petite yet fierce silhouette.

"What did he do? 'Battered woman attacks partner.' Oh. Is he okay?"

"Who cares?" Amy snarled and chewed her licorice with vigour. "He beat her."

"Then he should've been arrested and undergone a trial. Now, she will be convicted of assaulting him, and might face jail time." I pinched my nose blade, taking long breaths to reign in the effects of the sugar rush.

"She'll plead insanity. The reporter said she went berserk. She ran after him with a bat, pursuing him out of their apartment and throughout the building hallways. When he hit the ground, unconscious, she dropped her weapon and tried to help him. She claimed to have no memory of what possessed her."