Chapter 2

She closed the door without waiting for a response and left her alone in the cold room. The gray chair with wooden legs looked more inviting than it actually was and chose to pace rather than sit on a cushion that was little more than show. Each step echoed back in a room designed by the mad for the mad.

A tap on the door after countless echoes followed by the smiling face of Dr. Carlyle. He was an older man with gray hair kept short against the fading lines. Despite his age, or perhaps because of it, he was an attractive man whose smile was almost as comforting as his deep voice. His dark flesh played well against his dark eyes, that seemed to glow under the lights. Bedside manner alone proved he was doing something he still loved, unlike the receptionist with the scowl.

The door closed behind him and chose to stand rather than sit on his rounded chair of gray. “How are you doing, Monica.”

She guessed he never stopped playing the role of Psychiatrist and gave an answer he must have heard thousands of times a year. “I’m doing fine, Dr. Carlyle.”

He touched her shoulders with a gentle firmness and nodded the way she’d seen every time they’d met in one of the little rooms. “Good. It’s not going to be easy for your mother to recover, but it’s important for her to have family around.”

Monica gave a false smile as she did her best to match his nod. “I understand. I’ve made arrangements to take some time off work to spend with her.”

His voice changed a little as his grip firmed against her shoulders. “Do you have restraints for the bed she’ll be sleeping in?”

There was a little sincerity in her voice, but hid most of her thoughts from him. “I do.”

His nod showed the importance of what he was about to say. “Good. Your mother still has hallucinations. They aren’t as bad during the day, but you have to restrain her at night. It may seem wrong to do, but it’s important for her safety.”

Monica took in his words to give the appearance of time passing. “I understand, Dr. Carlyle.”

He released her shoulders as he continued on in his wonderful tone. “Her memory loss is getting better. There’s been a few episodes, but not like they were. You understand the need to balance out her medication?”

There was no need to delay her response. “I do. She won’t get better without it.”

His eyes searched hers, probing to find something hidden as he would a patient, but she wasn’t his patient and held firm to her hidden plans. “If you need anything, call the office. We have staff who can help adjust to the difficult times you’re going to be facing.

“Wait here, Monica. I’ll get your mother and be right back.”

She returned to pacing as the door closed with a silent click, since it was better than standing. The chair wouldn’t trap her as it had in the past. Sitting on the hard surface was never a pleasant experience and only served to send unpleasant signals throughout.

She couldn’t tell if there was more or less echoes before the tap came again, but thought it was more. Her mind had been lost in his words of less memory loss, but she’d take care of that. Monica was the dutiful daughter in the place of madness and none, not even Dr. Carlyle suspected anything.

The door opened and her eyes fell to her mother’s dark eyes. There was nothing pleasant about the look; there never was and this time was no different. Brown roots showed below the bleach line of her unkept hair and was a little taken back Her mother had always been so diligent about hiding her real color, just as she had covered her face to hide behind heavy makeup.

In some ways, this wasn’t her mother staring back at her. Had it been the same woman dressed the same way, she wouldn’t have had this easy a time controlling herself. Part of her wanted to lash out, but managed to hide the anger threatening to consume her. There was no shame hidden within to show a hint of feeling sorry about what she had done, but she would learn in time. Justice was coming for her.

Her dark blouse looked wrong without a bra to keep her large tits hidden away. It wasn’t an obvious glance, since she had learned to use her peripheral vision from living under her roof all those years. She wondered if her mother was every bit as pantiless as she was braless, but pressed the idea to the back of her mind.

His arm was around her shoulder as Dr. Carlyle guided her further into the room. The door behind him remained open as she fought a little against his grip. Her mother’s body tightened a little at being seen in such a state. She had always been in control, which led to her breakdown. Here she was, dependent on her daughter to get her out of this place of misery, which she hated almost as much as being institutionalized.

His voice sounded a little different, more professional. “See, Liz. I told you your daughter was here to take you home.”

A scowl reached her lips as her eyes burned into Monica’s, which made it more difficult to control what she really thought about the vile woman. “I’m surprised you made it. You’re dumb enough to get lost in your own house.”

With each word spoken she smiled sheepishly as she had as a child, but this time was going to be different as she bore the words with dignity. “Here to take me home with you? Better off taking me to my house. I’d be better off alone. You can’t take care of me. You’re too useless to take care of me. You can’t even take care of yourself.”