Saturday, July 11, 2009

As she spoke, her daughter's eyes filled with concern. This was not her mother. She didn't know who was this strange, eerily calm woman who was going on and on about biblical stuff. Her mother knew a lot of things, but she never talked like this. What had they done to her? What happened in that place? She wanted her mom back.

Her stepfather glanced up at her. He was thinking the same thing. He knew his wife was still in there, somewhere. Late in the evening, when the medicine began to wear off, she was there, laughing and joking like always. Thinking clearly. Not this woman sitting before him now under the kitchen lights.

They are looking at each other funny, she thought. She began to listen to herself as she went on and on. Oh my god. Where am I getting this stuff? I sound crazy, talking like I am here to save the world. Shit.

"Hon," she said. "Yes," his voice a solemn whisper. "I don't want to take my medicine tonight," she said, her voice trembling. "I don't want you to either."

"What do you think, Princess?" she asked her daughter who never feared to be straight up with her. Her response was quick and firm. "I don't think you need to take it."

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