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Mother Knows Best

The Insane Truth

By Isabella RosePublished 2 months ago 4 min read
3

The doctors all gave their harsh medical diagnoses with the cold and methodical voice of scientists: "Paraplegic, unable to ambulate, and with the arrested development of a small child."

Mama's unwavering eyes looked at me with what they all assumed was love, but something dark and sinister lurked just beyond their bright exterior. Hugging my stuffed animal in the confines of my wheelchair, I wanted to speak, to scream, or to say anything at all. The toxins did their purpose. They kept me silent even though inside I was trembling. Slipping her chubby hand into the doctor's open palm, he beamed at me before stating, "How marvellous of you to take care of such a little angel."

My head felt heavy under the lead weight of the narcotic mixture Mama had provided to me earlier that morning. It involuntarily rolled back, forcing my eyes to look into the bright florescent light that beamed from the ceiling. My eyes were watering and stinging from the torturous glare, but my Mama barely noticed as she glowed with rapture at the adoration spewed at her feet.

The wheels squeaked across the polished white tile of the hospital as the familiar scent of disinfectant trickled into my nostrils. The assistant lifted me into bed as if I was a rag doll; a mere plaything of my Mama's; a life broken and wasted for her unsatiable lust for attention.

The blonde nurse pranced into my room before exclaiming, "Gypsy has an infection." Her nervous eyes darted around the dark room before continuing, "We have also discovered an alarming amount of Morphine in her blood. Do you know how she could have gotten it?"

The smile grew wider on my face despite the drug induced dizziness in my head. She was discovered, I triumphantly thought.

Tears slowly rolled down Mama's cheeks as her shaky voice responded, "She was in such pain last night. I couldn't let my baby suffer."

Glancing at me, covered in a quilted blanket in the carefully designed prison my mother had devised for me, the nurse's face softened as she touched Mama's hand before responding, "It's okay, Dee Dee. I won't report it."

A pint-up scream wailed within me, threatening to dissolve my sanity.

Frantically, I made my stiff fingers text my one companion and love, "SHE IS GOING TO KILL ME!"

My phone glowed and danced in front of me as I read the response, "Not if we kill her first."

Nick's responses never ceased to calm my broken and fragile spirit. I couldn't actually kill her. After all, she was my Mama. I didn't want her dead, but if she continued to pump that poison in me, I would soon be magot food, but death may be better than being a prisoner.

"Do you have a plan?" I typed, quickly deleting the message in a panic.

Mama appeared to the side of me, making me startle as she handed me a soft stuffed whale before pulling the covers over my useless and numb legs.

"I can't move, Mama," I exclaimed, desperately wanting some type of reassurance that the narcotic induced paralysis would wear off this time.

"That's because I had to give you larger doses of your special medicine," she stated before kissing my forehead. "You're such a big girl now, Gypsy Rose."

"I'm not fourteen, Mama, and you know it!" Let me see Nick, now," I demanded through the dullness of the drugs.

"You will NEVER see that grown man again, you little slut," Mama stated as the mask of affection that she carefully concealed herself behind slowly slipped away, revealing her true nature.

*******

That's all I can remember, Dr. Ryan," I quietly stated as I looked into his kind blue eyes, my fingers smearing the green crayon along the clean white paper.

He questioned, "What about later that night?"

Images of blood soaked bed sheets stabbed my mind's eye as a childish giggle escaped my mouth. "May I please be excused?" I hopefully asked.

Metal handcuffs were slipped onto my thin wrists as I walked back to my gloomy and cramped cell. As the heavy door clanged shut, imprisoning me inside, I began softly singing a familiar Disney song as my cell mate looked at me in terror:

"I know you. I walked with you once upon a dream."

fictionfact or fictionCONTENT WARNING
3

About the Creator

Isabella Rose

I am a dedicated author with a passion for fiction. I own a joint business with my amazingly talented co-writer and poet, Raven Black.

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Comments (3)

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  • Dharrsheena Raja Segarran2 months ago

    The Gypsy Rose case is so scaryyyy! I feel both she and Dee Dee are crazy! Nick ain't innocent either but I feel he's more of Gypsy's victim just like how she was Dee Dee's. I loveeeeee how you wrote this story! So creepy!

  • Raven Black2 months ago

    Amazing, :-)

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