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He sits in solitude except for the incoherent yelling in the next room.
The yelling is accompanied by the high pitch shrill of breaking glass and china smashing the ground and the wall behind her. 
She doesn’t know what day it is. 
She feels like she has awakened into a nightmare. Her thoughts don’t finish themselves anymore. They are slower to even materialize. In the middle of her thought a noise is amplified in her mind to the point her ghost leaves her skin and startles her. 
It makes her angry. 
She has to start all over...what was she thinking about? 
    The people on the t.v. are talking about her in Japanese. She hears her name. The dog barks and she remembers she has a dog. 
She is holding something. 
She looks down and her hand is dripping something but she doesn’t know why. 
She is squeezing a piece of broken glass, but she thinks it is her watch. She doesn't know what time it is. If you asked her what her name was, she would look through you, trying to see her name on the wall.
     The wall, the dog, her name, the noise, is someone screaming? Some guy comes in the room. “ Mom, are you ok?” 
She is bleeding everywhere. 
She throws her watch at him. It shatters against the wall. “ Get out!” She screams. “ Help! Police! He’s killing the babies!” 
She doesn’t know who he is. Nothing makes sense anymore.
 She thinks he has hurt them.
 She hasn’t seen the babies in weeks, maybe months. She remembers holding them but cannot see the faces.  All the faces fade.She wonders if she has always been crazy. She thinks she might just be sick. She thinks she might be dreaming. Then she forgets what she was thinking about. 
She has to start over. 
Where is she? 
She wants to go home, yet she has lived where she is for 16 years.
 She thinks about the guy who….where is her watch? She remembers a dog….she was going to…..the paper said…the faces fade . where am??
Another year has gone by...she thinks it is 1984. The room has a pungent odor. She sits in a soiled diaper, the Japanese know she is dirty. Her hand is trembling and bleeding. " Ma let me help you." He wraps her hand. " You are a gambling Nazi." She says to him. Nazi? He sheds a tear as he looks to his phone for the nearest care facility. It has come. He has to make the call. After all, he was her son and he was raised Jewish.
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