After school, Debbie took a stroll in the street after leaving her bag at home. She always did this every day. She looked at the window display of her favourite shop and felt she couldn’t live without those shoes; a pair of red high heels with pointed toes. She felt the desire to steal them as she always did when she lusted over something. The voice in her ear always encouraged her. She liked it because in the end and she always got what she wanted. She didn’t seem to comprehend the wrong of stealing.

She wore blue skinny jeans with a black top and a white jacket with a hood. On her feet she wore black Tommies.

“Go and get them even if you don’t have money,” a voice said in a low voice.

She agreed with the voice. This was the only way to get possession of them. It’s not like her parents couldn’t provide for her but it was in her blood stream, controlling her. Debbie had a brother who at a boarding school. Her mother and father worked hard to supply their needs but Debbie was never satisfied. She refused to go to boarding school and attend a day school. She is a boffin in science subjects and passes all the time.

She entered the shop and watched carefully for someone who might be watching her. Debbie walked towards the shelf with the shoes. Two women sat trying some shoes. She watched for the shop assistants but they didn’t seem to notice her.

Come on, get them quickly. They will not see you, the voice instructed.

Debbie grabbed the shoes and placed them in her jacket and walked out the shop quickly. Her heart beat fast even though it was not the first time. She kept walking fast until she was home, the shop people didn’t see the shoes had disappeared.

In her inner realm, the voice encouraged her: Nothing wrong with taking something you want, it’s not only you who steals.

She tried the shoes and they fit perfectly. She smiled and walked around in the house smiling. She hid them under her bed where there were other stolen items: a wallet, white skinny jeans, a black satchel and some necklaces. Her mother never looked under the bed; if she had, she would tell her father who would punish her severely. Even when she cleaned she never bothered with under the bed. Debbie made sure her bed was always neatly made and decorated because she knew her mother got frustrated when she left her bed unmade after waking up.

At a quarter-to-five she went to the kitchen to prepare dinner before her parents returned from work. She prepared chicken stew, knowing how her parents loved it. She cooked pap and made a Greek salad. Her parents came back in time for dinner as Debbie sat watching the television. She heard the car driving inside the garage and knew they were back.

Suddenly her mood changed; she was angry. The voice recalled back what had happened years ago when her mother falsely accused her. It made her furious, her happiness suddenly changed to anger.

“Baba, you should have seen that woman,” Christine said entering the door.

Debbie didn’t look at them but kept her eyes looking at the television. Her parents looked surprised but walked to the kitchen holding grocery plastic bags. She didn’t seem to notice them. She looked like a billy-goat that would attack when you came closer and Christine kept her distance.

“Debbie, greet Daddy. Debbie, are you OK?” he asked cautiously.

“I told you that day she was behaving like this, you never looked in on this matter… Let me dish up,” her mother opened the pot. “Wow, this is a delicious meal,”

Her mother looked at her, hopeful she would respond.

Calvin sat on the couch opposite the one Debbie sat on and removed his tie and blazer. He looked at the ceiling, breathing harshly and stretching his legs. Christine dished up the food and set the table quickly. She looked at Debbie and it made her worried. What had changed Debbie from a cheerful daughter to a moody girl? Maybe it was just a phase, she hoped. Maybe it was just hormones, every girl who reached womanhood had mood swings.

“Come, let’s eat,” she called out.

Debbie stood and grabbed her plate and walked to her bedroom, slamming the door. Calvin looked on and Christine just lifted her shoulders and sat down.

After tucking in her food, she put the plate on the floor and slept on top of the bed. She slept with anger and hatred in her heart. Her mother opened her bedroom door to peek on her, she was asleep. She said a prayer, “Please help my daughter my Lord, whatever happening take control.”

She switched off the light and went to join her husband in the bedroom. Still her heart was not relaxed and worry and confusion ripped off her peace and sleep.

***

Tell us: What do you think is the matter with Debbie?