Norman Bates (i_shower) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-01-02 19:17:00 |
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Norman. Wake up!
Groggy. Confused. Lost. Everything was blurry. Norman just wanted to roll over and lie on his side. He wanted to continue sleeping. But he couldn't roll over. And the voice was loud in his mind. Loud and screeching.
Wake up, you rotten, good-for-nothing, worthless, child! Would you dare disobey your Mother?!
Norman mumbled something indecipherable. His head was like a cloud. A fluffy cloud floating through a cheese grater. He didn't know where he was. He barely knew what he was. He only knew that he was asleep. And when he was asleep, Norman was at peace. He was happy. He had solace. But the voice continued. It grew louder and more insistent. Then the voice began to have form and Norman knew that he couldn't ignore it any longer. It was too dangerous to ignore that voice.
"M-m-mmother...?"
Who the hell else would it be?! Who else cares about you like I do? I'm your Mother, Norman. I'm the only woman in your life. Not like those whores and tramps that you let near the motel. You disgust me. If you weren't so pathetic, I would kill you. But you don't deserve that. You don't deserve to be treated that way your poor Mother was treated. Isn't that right, Norman? Isn't that RIGHT?
His eyes slowly opened. The world came into focus, one piece at a time. She had been gone for so long. She had been so quiet. He'd gotten rid of her. He left The City. No, wait. Mother had left The City. She had left. She'd gone back home. And now she was back. No! She was back and Norman was afraid again. She was so disappointed. He could hear her disappointment.
He tried to sit up, but he couldn't. He was held down to the bed by restraints on his wrists and ankles. But not his bed. Where was he? What was happening?
"Help me! Help!"
Nobody can help you now, Norman. Nobody.
"No! Please! P-p-pplease! Somebody! Let me out! I can't! I can't be like this again!"
He'd been to a place like this before. But they had cured him. He wasn't supposed to be sick anymore. He was supposed to be at home. He was supposed to be at his motel. And Mother. Mother was--
Dead?! Mother was dead?! Ha! You are a wretched creature, Norman. A horrible excuse for a son! I could never be dead. Never! I will always be with you, Norman. You know why? Because a boy's best friend is his mother.
Norman screamed.