She's decided she's coddled you too much.

You lay on your bed for what feels like at least a few hours. For a long time you just shake and sob, completely unable to cope. Eventually you manage to calm down and collect yourself enough to check the clock. It reads 7:30PM. You sit up on the edge of the bed, dried tears caked upon your cheeks. All you can do for a while is stare at the wall.

"Why is this happening?" You finally say quietly to the empty room. Your stomach reminds you you haven't eaten at all today since breakfast. It has no compassion for your current state of utter shock as it rumbles loudly. You look down and clutch at yourself. Wrapping both your arms around your torso. You want to eat but you don't think you should leave the room until your mother comes. You don't think you could stand anyway. As you suppress your hunger, you return to staring. Without warning, you hear loud footsteps in the hall and the door swings open. Your mother is standing in the doorway. Your eyes dart to the plate of food in her hands. She carries it over to the desk and sets it down before walking back to the middle of the room. She turns and glares down at you. Her normally sweet and caring azure blue eyes **** you with their hard gaze.

"Eat." She says tersely. You want to say something, defend yourself, apologize maybe, anything. The look in her eyes tells you to remain quiet and do as she says until her uncharacteristic wrath has subsided. You walk to the desk, sit down, and begin eating. Your mother watches you eat without a word. Only the awkward sounds of you wolfing down your much needed food can be heard. As you finish, your mother speaks again. "I am extremely disappointed and hurt you would invade my privacy like this, especially at your age. You're not a fucking child, you knew you shouldn't have been on the computer in my office."

"I'm sorry mommy..." Your mother swiftly cuts you off.

"DO NOT SPEAK UNTIL I TELL YOU TOO! AND DO NOT 'I'M SORRY MOMMY' ME! CLEARLY I LET YOU GET AWAY WITH THAT TOO MUCH!" You clam up, eyes wide. This may be the first time in your life you've ever heard your mother full on yell. She rarely even raises her voice to you. She continues in an even tone, the sudden contrast chills you a little. "This is my house, that is my office. If you don't like what I'm about to say, you're 18, you're free to leave any time." Your eyes widen even further, this is not a great start. "You are on thin ice. I tried to be courteous and sensitive to your feelings, ridiculous as they may be. He tried to make amends and you just refuse to even listen. He went to prison. You sent him there. He's paid his debt and he's still offering more. His services and expertise could fetch him a nice price from the right clientele but he offered them for free because he still feels guilty. But you just can't let your petty little grudge go." You balk at this. The feeling of betrayal is simply indescribable. It almost shatters you.

"How can you say that! He tortured me! Abused me!" Before you can say any more your mother steps quickly toward you. She's already taller than you, but standing over you as you sit she seems gigantic, like an angry goddess. The ceiling light is blocked from your view by her head at this angle, creating a halo effect around her and casting her rage distorted face in half shadow. Increasing the menacing effect she seems to have. She delivers another slap, the second of both this evening and your entire life. You look back at her, clutching your cheek.

"Man up goddamnit!" She shouts. "So he bullied you a little? Big whoop. You were both kids, boys will be boys. Your an adult now and you need to start acting like it."

"Mom! Something's wrong! Something's changed! He's done something to you! Why do you keep hitting me?!" Tears well in your eyes as you desperately try to get through to your mother. Your real mother. Something has taken her over, you know it. This just isn't her, it can't be. Her only reaction is to raise her hand once more to deliver yet another blow. You cower throwing your hands over your face, and begin sobbing almost uncontrollably.

"Jesus, you're such a fucking sissy." Her voice is cruel and dismissive, full of contempt. To your absolute horror, it reminds you of Chris. She lowers her hand without striking you. "I can't believe you're this fucking paranoid. I thought the fortune I spent on fucking therapy would take care of this nonsense. Just go to bed. You're going to wake up at six AM tomorrow." You look up again slowly as she continues. "You're going to clean the entire house except for my room and office. THOSE ARE STRICTLY OFF LIMITS AND YOU ARE NOT TO ENTER UNSUPERVISED WITHOUT MY DIRECT PERMISSION! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Her yelling causes you to cower again.

"Yes mommy." You barely manage to squeak out an answer.

"Good." She says returning to her icey, commanding tone. "You will clean until dinner, which you will make. Whenever you think you're done, find something else to fucking clean. And then after dinner you will do the dishes and go straight to your room. I want this house cleaner than when it was first built. It is going to fucking sparkle. I expect it will take you more than one day. After that you will be responsible for maintaining all the common areas in this perfect state until I say otherwise. Clear?"

"Yes mommy."

"The first thing you'll do tomorrow, is take your TV and your computer down to the basement and store them somewhere. You can have them back when I decide you've learned your goddamn lesson. And consider yourself grounded. You're not to leave the house without permission. You man up, take your punishment, and show me you can be trusted, you can go back to your videogames or whatever it is you do on that stupid thing all day. Until then, I'll be installing a camera in my office and one at my bedroom door, so don't even think about sneaking around in there again you little shit."

"Yes mommy." This is all too much, you're practically on autopilot. You need to be alone. She takes the empty plate from the desk and walks quickly to your door. She flicks the lights off.

"Now go to bed, you've got a long day tomorrow." She slams the door and you hear her footsteps recede down the hall. You sit for a while in the dark staring at the door, crying and sobbing like a toddler. No thoughts come to you, you're simply broken. You can't possibly process what has occured. Eventually you crawl into bed and manage to cry yourself to sleep, exhausted by the ordeals of the day.