I ran into my mom’s room and screamed. Laying there in her bed was a mutilated bloody mess. I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was my cat, it’s whole body was cut open and every part of him hanging out. I heard a snicker in the corner.

“Mom?” I asked.

“Mr. Whiskers was a bad kitty.” She said with a twisted grin.

“Mom, what’s wrong with you?”

“Mr. Whiskers was being a bad kitty.” She said once again, “And you have been a bad girl!”

She ran from the corner of the room and in her hand was a knife.

“Mom! No! I am your daughter!” I yelled as I ran out of the room, with my mother chasing not far behind.

“I am going to get you!” my mom screamed, followed by a demented laugh.

I tan to the door, but then it slammed right in my face. I screamed in panic and jiggled the door knob. It was stuck. I frantically looked around the room, as what I thought was my mother stared at me with wide eyes and a twisted smile.

I tried so hard to open the door. Finally, it slid open without a sound. I ran to the next room I could find. I ran to the window and tried opening it to go outside. For some reason, it was zip tied shut. My mom had been planning this for a while now.

Knowing that my mom was getting very near, I knew if I looked back, I would clearly be next. I’m only a teenager! I have a lot left in my life to experience! I haven’t even had a real boyfriend yet! What am I going to do? How could I escape?

I headed for the front door as I heard a cackle come from my mother’s mouth. “Where do you think you’re going?” She asked in a demonic voice.

“Oh, I think I will head out for an evening stroll, Mother. Head on back to bed.” I replied as calmly as possible. There was that twisted smile upon my mother’s face again. I screamed and tried to open the door, but she grabbed my hand as I reached for the doorknob.

I screamed. “Mom! Please don’t do this!”

My mother smiled at me with the twisted little grin I had come to know her for. I wanted to scream, cry, do something, but nothing would come out. I couldn’t move. My arms and legs weren’t responsive. I was frozen with fear, or maybe something else. This didn’t seem like a normal bodily reaction. What had she done to me?

“I told you to clean your room last week, darling.” My mother stated, “You went out with your friends instead. You should have listened to what I asked you to do, dear. A mother deserves respect from her daughter. You should have listened.” With a smile, my mother walked away as I collapsed to the ground.

Eventually, my vision was restored. I looked down, to find a shot injected into my stomach. I was paralyzed. For the rest of my life, I will lay, obeying, always my mother’s prisoner.