A healthy soul

Dwells within a healthy mind

And a healthy body

"Even though we have enough evidence against you without the interrogation," the policeman sat across from the Witch, "it's still required that you get to tell your side of the story." The Witch stared boredly ahead of her. "So, Miss Gorgon, is there anything you'd like to tell me about your son?"

Medusa averted her gaze and smiled in a mix of sadness and fondness. "He was a very imaginative child. He was convinced for his whole life that I was a witch. Although, I can't say I blame him. But we're not here to talk about what he thought of me, are we? You want to know how I treated him." Medusa sighed, staring into the distance and drumming her fingers. "I wasn't ready for him. When he came," she said flatly. "I had the money to carve out a good life for him, but I wasn't ready to be a mother. I found myself failing over and over again, to the point where I started blaming him for my failures." She looked the officer dead in the eyes. "And so I punished him."

The policeman took notes. "What kind of punishments?"

"I would lock him in a closet for days at a time. Sometimes he would be denied food or even water. He was encouraged to kill animals, and I didn't say anything about it when he…when he decided to hurt himself."

"Tell me more about his condition." As an afterthought, the officer added "Please."

"Oh, well he was always a bit disconnected from the world. Off in his own little place where he could be alone. He didn't know how to deal with anything that he wasn't used to. And sometimes, he seemed like an entirely different person. I couldn't call 'either' of them my son."

There was a pause. "Tell me about Ragnarok."

Medusa inhaled deeply. "He started talking to Ragnarok when he was five. I assumed it was normal, I mean, even I had an imaginary friend at his age. But then Ragnarok started being described as somewhat…abusive. Like a school bully. But…he seemed to find some solace in Ragnarok's teasing. He was the only person that was always there for him." She gave an uncharacteristic giggle, "Isn't it ironic, don't you think? The only reason he still has Ragnarok is because I acted like a mother for once—I made pretend that Ragnarok was real. I suppose it was my way of caring for the child—when I locked him in the closet, I denied him food, but brought plates for Ragnarok." Medusa sighed and frowned. "He never ate them though."

Silence passed. Medusa was finished. "Well, Miss Gorgon, that was…eye-opening for me. Any information you can give on his mental state is helpful." He leaned in on his elbows, giving the woman that he despised and admired a look of understanding. "I know you care about him. I know you want him to be happy with his new life just as much as we do."

The officer sat back down. "So, do you plead not guilty?"

Medusa thought about it, weighing her emotions. "I'm afraid I'd be lying if I said I thought I was innocent," she concluded quietly.

Sitting in a dark room at a long table, the child carried out a unsettlingly one-sided conversation. "The nice man in the suit said I was 'clinically insane,' Ragnarok. What does that mean? A 'nutso?' I'm sure he didn't mean it like that, Ragnarok…but…but I don't want to go to an institution! I don't know how to deal with that, I want to stay with Lady Medusa!" The child hung his head. "Why are you being so mean? I'm sure you would hate the food at the nuthouse—you don't like nuts, remember? They give you a tummy-ache." He flinched. "Ow, stop it Ragnarok! I won't say tummy anymore, just stop hitting me! When you hit me it gives me a headache and I don't like that!...But if you put tacks in my shoes, it will hurt when I go outside and I—hush. I hear someone coming."

The door cracked open, the aforementioned man in the suit peering in.

"Chrona? How are you feeling?"

Dr. Franken Stein was never very good at being sympathetic, and worse, he felt awkward in a suit. But he had seen the state this child was living in, he knew how he had been treated. It was impossible not to feel sorry for Chrona. "

"Ragnarok has been angry," Chrona replied meekly.

"Why is that?" Stein pulled out a chair, sitting—improperly, as per usual—across from Chrona.

Chrona mumbled, "He thinks you're going to take me to a ward, and Ragnarok hates nuts…"

Stein smiled weekly. Chrona was such an innocent looking creature, with choppy lavender hair and large, curious gray eyes. Stei n could hardly believe he came from the snakelike woman Stein had previously called not just a coworker, but a friend.

"Well, Chrona, I am going to take you away, but not to an institution." All Chrona could see of Stein was his large, round glasses that caught and reflected any incoming light and the scar running across the left side of his face. Chrona wondered how he got that scar. "You probably don't know this, but I was very close to your mother. When I heard about what she did to you, I was disgusted. But I've seen the place they want to send you to, and I don't think you'd be able to handle it. Hell, even I was a little unnerved." He ran a hand through his thick, greying hair. "I have degress in many fields, one of them psychology, and I've arranged to be your guardian—and psychiatrist—until you get better.

A bit of silence passe between the two. Chrona averted his gaze. "Don't be so mean, Ragnarok! Dr. Stein is offering to take care of us! He seems much nicer than Lady Medusa, doesn't he?" Chrona met Stein's eyes. "What will happen to her?"

The scientist sighed. "They're going to take her to prison for an undetermined amount of time. The most likely outcome is that you'll never see her again." Chrona didn't respond. "She deserves it, Chrona. Mothers aren't supposed to treat their children that way. Trust me, you'll be much happier with me and Marie."

"I…if you say so."

Stein smiled warmly. "You'd like it at our home. It's always quiet there. Now come on, it's time to go. I'll pull the car right up next to the door, so you won't have to walk through the parking lot. Okay, Chrona?"

"Okay…but, may I see Lady Medusa before we leave?"

Stein frowned. "It's best that you don't, Chrona. There's no telling what she could do right now."

"I-I understand…" Chrona dipped his head, uneven bangs covering his face.

"Come on," Stein stood, "I told Marie about you—she can't wait to meet you," he led Chrona out into the hallway, speaking as they walked. "You'll enjoy her company. She's very calming to be around. Do you like cats, Chrona?"

"I once had a kitten…"

"We have a cat named Blair. Be careful that she doesn't smother you. Wait right here while I get the car, OK?" Stein left Chrona alone in the lobby.

"Why is he being so nice to me, Ragnarok?" Chrona listened to the rambling of the imaginary 'friend.' "That's not true, Ragnarok. Lady Medusa said…I suppose so. She is gone now, the best thing to do is forget about her…Does this make Stein my father? Oh, do you really think so? I've never had a father before…but then, how did Lady Medusa have me?" He was silent for a moment. "Cradlesnatching? What's cradlesnatching? Oh…if you say so, Ragnarok. Oh, Stein is back!"

Stein pulled up to the glass double doors in his grey care. It was a nice enough vehicle, looking as if it came from the early sixties.

"Come on," Stein said as he came in, laying a hand on Chrona's shoulder. "It's not a long drive to my home."

In the car, Chrona stared out the window from the back seat, occasionally mumbling something to Ragnarok. Stein decided to break the awkward silence. "So, how old are you, Chrona?"

Chrona seemed to have to think about it, furrowing his brow. "I don't remember…t-the last time Lady Medusa said something like that…fifteen? Sixteen?"

Stein had assumed so. "Do you know what your birthday is?"

"…No."

"When was the last time Medusa said something about it?"

"When do you think that was, Ragnarok?" Chrona mumbled. "Really? That long? Oh." He sunk back into his seat, tapping his forefingers together. "Ragnarok says it's in October…" Chrona said, just above a whisper.

"Well, that was only a month ago!" Stein smiled at Chrona in the rear-view mirror. "We're going to have to show you what a real birthday is like. Would you like that, Chrona?"

Chrona blushed. I've never had a birthday before. Not like the people on television…"

The poor thing, Stein thought, that's fifteen, mayne sixteen years he'll never get back. He glanced at the pair of sad eyes in the back seat as the pulled onto the driveway of the somewhat small, ordinary-looking house. For a moment, stein worried about the way Chrona was dressed—in something that Stein would have called a priest's robe if it didn't look so much like a dress on Chrona. What if Marie…? No, Stein would have to trust the forgetful woman to remembe that he had used the acronym "he" on the hpone.

Stein turned around, evening light bouncing off of his glasses. "First impressions are important, Chrona. Just remember to be youself, okay?" He stepped out and opened Chrona's door.

"O-okay. Come on, Ragnarok. Let's meet Ms. Marie."