Returning to the packhouse was like walking into the nunnery all over again, and Mother's face was tight with anger and disappointment as she confronted me in my room. "I'm very displeased," she told me. "I expected you to respect my will because you finally saw it as the right thing, rather than capitulate simply to avoid punishment. I will be watching you closely, and if you even think of being disrespectful to me in word or deed, I will have you sent back, with orders to keep you there until you are fully broken. As it is, you're not going to escape your fate, and I intend to make you suffer fully for all the disgusting behaviour you've exhibited. In the meantime, you are to stay in your room at all times. I've arranged to have an ensuite installed so you can relieve and keep yourself clean as needed. Your meals will be brought to you, and unless you are required, you will stay on your bed at all times. You will go to sleep only when I tell you to, and you will not be permitted to dream. I won't have you seeking help from your disgusting friends. And in that regard, your mind is to stay open to mine at all times. If you try to hide your thoughts, I will give you nightmares that will scare you straight, and if I feel you've been disobedient in any way, I'll ensure you know about it." She paused, staring at me as I sat on my bed, hands folded tightly in her lap. I could feel her mind invading mine, and I shuddered as she rifled through my most precious memories. "Stop that," she told me sharply. "You have no right to feel violated. You are my daughter, and I have the right to see into your mind. It is not an invasion, and you will stop thinking of it as such."
I had to make myself be calm as she continued to rifle through my mind, and I think she stayed a bit longer than she needed just to be spiteful, and when she finally withdrew, I took deep breaths to calm myself, which earned me a slap across the face that had me seeing stars. "No more of that either," she told me. "I will not have you act like it's a relief when I withdraw my mind. I will link you to me 24/7 if I have to, so don't you even dare to think you're free. I'm warning you; you are on very thin ice. Make one misstep, and I will have you sent back and broken so thoroughly that no one will ever be able to put the pieces back together. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," I said, keeping my tone as level as I could manage.
Mother slapped me again. "Do I make myself clear?" she snapped.
I realised she wanted me to repeat her words back to her, and though I felt sick inside at having to be a parrot, I didn't want to get slapped again. "You make yourself clear," I said.
I think she almost wanted to slap me again, but she refrained this time, and I had to hide my relief. "Be careful," she told me. "Or I'll have Faith come home and finish your breaking. You won't need to be sent to the camp for me to have you reduced to a mindless shell, and you won't need brains to breed." So saying, she turned on her heel and left, and once I was sure I wasn't likely to recieve an etheric visit, I let out a soft sigh.
Things had only gone from bad to worse, and I couldn't quite stop the shudder that wracked me as I realised I'd gone from the frying pan into the fire. Almost I found myself wishing I'd stayed at the nunnery, but it was too late to revoke my rash decision to come home. And Mother had threatened to recall Faith in any case should I step out of line, so in reality, I'd be broken one way or another.
And break me she would. Mother didn't want me to have my facutlies intact in case I tried reaching out for help, and she'd forbidden me to dream. How she could police that was anyone's guess, but as I sat on my bed, staring rigidly at the wall and watching the shadow move slowly across, I knew she'd figure out a way.
My only hope now was that she'd get the breaking over with. I suddenly found life much more unbearable, and I found being reduced to a mindless shell an infinitely better prospect than being tormented.
Though I had the feeling Mother would make the process as drawn out as she could, simply because she could. She'd never been anything but a spiteful, bitter old hag, forced to marry my father after she became pregnant with me, forever forbidden to even think of her true love, which had caused her to turn bitter towards me, as if I was to blame for being conceived, thus setting the pattern for our future relationship. Faith had been much more to her liking, but Faith had always been a poor man's consolation prize, thus culminating in the desperate desire to get a grandchild so she could raise him or her the way she wanted them to be raised.
And now it seemed she'd gotten her chance with me. Rescue at this point seemed a distant pipe-dream, and though I'd likely get walloped for it later, I couldn't help the tears which slid slowly down my cheeks for a very long time after Mother's departure.
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