Chapter 6

Monica poured the last of the piss from the pitcher into a clear glass and handed it to her waiting mother who had given up on trying to cover herself. She had tried so hard to find some means to do so, but the tears were too great to hide anything. Liz might as well have may have been naked, but refused to take off the ruins. Her mother must’ve felt something was better than nothing, and Monica managed not to ogle any part of her body.

She set the empty pitcher in the sink and handed the cold glass to her mother. As long as she pretended it was lemonade, Liz had accepted it as true. Monica was going to use all the side effects to her advantage, which included some altered senses. Liz no longer stopped at the strong scent of piss emanating from her kitchen whenever the refrigerator was open, just as she had when taking her pills.

Monica had already set the final pills for the day aside, which included that added dose that would lead to increased hallucinations and loss of memory. Both would be used to bring justice to her mother. She had given her mother a small taste of what lay ahead, but nothing like what she would be doing later.

She watched her mother take every pill and drink the last of the piss without putting up a fight. Her mother had been her normal, vile self, which was to be expected. Monica let the words fall away, since she couldn’t risk losing control. Everything was going to plan.

Liz shoved the glass into her hand. “Water, you fucking whore.”

Hot breath washed across her face and filled her nostrils with the strong scent of piss. She took the glass and turned towards the sink without saying a word and proceeded to fill the glass with just enough water to moisten her salted tongue. Monica turned towards her mother with the clouded liquid and pressed it towards her mother.

Liz glared at her daughter, and refused to take the glass. “I want a fresh glass, stupid girl.”

Monica refused to react the way she wanted, since she had to remain calm. “Im not getting you a fresh glass. Drink what I gave you, mom.”

Liz shook her head and stamped her foot. “I won’t drink it, you worthless whore.”

She took the glass from her hand and poured the clouded liquid down the drain. Monica set the glass next to the pitcher, and turned to look at her mother’s angry face. A few streaks of red could be seen among the pink, and almost made her smile.

Her voice took on a determined tone. “Fine with me. You can go to bed without water.”

Her foot stamped hard as she crossed her arms. “Not until I get some water. It tastes like fucking piss. I’m not moving until I get some water, you stupid cunt. Get me some water, now, you worthless whore.”

Monica tilted her head back a little and placed her fists against her hips. “Bed or back to be locked up, mom. Don’t think it’s too late to drive your ass there.” She stared her mother down for a few seconds. “You know what, mom? Fuck it. I’m taking you back. You can’t seem to understand this is my house, not yours.”

Panic could be seen in her eyes and started to pale what had been a reddening face. “I’ll do it. Ill drink the water out of the glass.”

She shook her head, and spoke to her mother with an authoritative voice for the first time in her life. “Too late, mom. I offered and you refused. That’s on you. Bed or car.”

Liz looked down in defeat. “Fine. I’m going to bed, whore.”

Her fists remained planted in her hips. “I’ll be in to restrain you after I wash out the pitcher and glass. I expect you to be naked and in bed when I get there. Don’t fuck around, mom.”

Liz nodded and turned away as she cursed at her daughter. Every step brought some new insult as she went about the business of cleaning. Hot water cascaded around her hands, which gave her something to concentrate on. Control was needed as the last of the soap rinsed away and allowed clear thoughts of justice to take over strong temptations.

She grabbed a cloth to dry her hands and pitcher to give her a little more time to focus. Monica took a few breaths and turned towards where her mother was waiting. Liz met her daughter with a hateful look, but remained silent as she waited for the restraints. Her mother was more worried about going back than she thought, which led to blissful silence from her naked state.

Monica stepped over clothes that remained scattered across the room. Her hands reached for her bare wrists without a word being spoken and placed the black cuffs over pale flesh. There was no pulling away as the second cuff went into place. Liz’s ankles took the cuffs without so much as a curse under her mother’s breath.

She was tempted to look at her mother’s body one last time, but didn’t want to call attention to anything. Her mother would soon be asleep, and could wait her out. The switch for the bedroom light clicked softly beneath her fingers and turned the room to darkness, but made certain to leave her door open.

The light to the hall was left on, much to her mother’s displeasure. Monica refused to acknowledge her at all as she returned to the kitchen. She went to reach for the dried pitcher when and idea struck her, and silently cursed herself for not thinking of it sooner. A quick search in silence brought out a second clear pitcher set next to the first.

With both in hand, she went to her bedroom to get to her bathroom. Beneath the sink were the glasses she had filled throughout the day. The scent wasn’t as strong as when she opened the refrigerator, but was clearly there. If her mother noticed it, Monica could simply tell her she was smelling things that weren’t there.