The Children's Court/Carl O'Brien: The middle-aged mother with bruises around her eyes spoke in a trembling voice. "Before I go to bed at night I have to hide the knives. She has beaten up my son, my daughter and me. I haven't slept. Last night I was afraid to go to sleep," she said, her voice still faltering.
Across the small courtroom her 17-year-old daughter with long dark hair bit her varnished nails and stared darkly at the ground. She had just been led into the court by two gardaí, her legs trailing on the ground.
The garda explained that she was on a cocktail of prescription drugs and alcohol.
"The family are living in fear of the accused," said Garda Sinéad Magee. "As you can see by her mother's injuries, there will be other incidents. The brother and sister are terrified."
Faced with no other option, the mother was in court to ask that her daughter be remanded in custody.
"She's coming around every night," the mother said, as tears streamed down her cheeks and on to her grey fleece jacket. "I really am afraid of her."
The girl, who had been bent over, suddenly snapped upwards and began to shriek at her mother.
Judge Seán MacBride ordered her to be silent. When she did not stop, he ruled that she be temporarily removed from the courtroom. She was dragged out, screaming, in much the same way as she arrived into the courtroom.
The girl faced the charge of breaking a bedroom window in the family home, while other more serious assault charges were also being processed.
"This is not just about breaking the glass of a bedroom window," the judge said. "I have to refuse bail because of the seriousness of the offences and the possibility of interference with witnesses."
The root of the girl's problems were not clear. Her father died some time before. She appeared to come from a strong family background. Her address was a relatively well-off area from Dublin's north side.
The girl had been brought back to the courtroom by now and rubbed her red eyes.
"She appears to have some difficulties," Judge MacBride continued. "I will make a recommendation to the governor of Mountjoy that she is a person who requires an immediate psychological assessment. And I'm going to underline the word 'immediate'. It is for the welfare of the defendant."
At the mention of the name of the prison, the girl threw her hair back and began to shriek again. "Please don't put me there!" she cried at the judge with tormented eyes. "How can you care about my welfare? My Dad used to work there. You f***ing bastard!"
The judge continued to write out his order, ignoring the girl's tirade. When he was finished, the two gardaí seated close to her took the girl by the arms and removed her from the court as she continued to scream.
The judge asked the garda still present to ensure a close eye was kept on the girl. The garda nodded.
The mother, a well-spoken woman wearing gold-rimmed spectacles, turned to the judge with mournful eyes. "I'm sorry about that," she said. The girl's grandmother, who looked lost and confused, nodded sympathetically at the judge.
Outside the courtroom, sitting on a wooden bench, the girl's solicitor, Sarah Molloy, took some details from the mother, who held a piece of torn white tissue tightly in her hand.
As the door of the court swung open, the girl's screams could still be heard echoing faintly from the cells.