Mother From Bates Motel Novels & Stories

Instead, he was looking at me with a hint of curiosity. The woman, whose hand Julian held, was dressed in a long, white dress. She had an elegant and gentle air, yet she was nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear under my scrutiny. Yohan noticed the way I was staring at Emily Walker. He then stood protectively in front of her. If I truly had lost my memories, I might actually believe that these people before me were a loving family of three. Julian tugged at Yohan's hand and whispered, "Since Mommy lost her memories, does that mean you guys can get a divorce now, Daddy?"

Our daughter approached, whispering, “Mommy… Did Daddy go to that auntie again? Aren’t you his mate? Why does he sleep with another woman every night? Isn’t that lady his mom? How can they sleep together?” I crouched down and hugged her, forcing a smile. My lips parted, but I found myself incapable of explaining such a shameful mess. Instead, I diverted her attention and changed the subject, played games with her, distracted her until she fell asleep. Then I lay on the bed, my mind filled with restless thought as I tossed and turned. Years ago, I had given up my birth right as heir to the Blood Moon Pack in North America for the sake of Mason. My family had deemed him unworthy of me.

Furniture overturned, clothes scattered everywhere, mirror shattered. And on my bed, written in what I really hope is red paint, is a message: **THE DEAL IS SIMPLE. YOU FOR YOUR MOTHER. MIDNIGHT. THE CEMETERY. COME ALONE OR SHE DIES.** Below the words is a photo. A woman who looks exactly like the one from Melvanie's locket, my real mother, Selene, tied to a chair, very much alive but terrified. “No…” I whisper. My breath catches. “That bitch.”

… The next morning, I took a day off to bring Natalie to the mall. I bought her a new dress and a new backpack. Everything that was hers had to be brand new. We shopped, had a good meal, and went to the movies. For once, we did everything an ordinary mother and daughter would do. That day, Natalie finally broke out into a bright smile. … In the afternoon, I received an unexpected call. It was from my mother-in-law, Catherine Brown. Her cries filled my ears as soon as the call was connected. "Whitney, you heartless woman! Haven't you ruined Arnold enough? What more do you want?" Catherine's high-pitched tone stabbed at my ear.

"It was Vera! She stole it, sold it to another publisher, and tried to cover it up!" Joe chimed in, backing her up. "Unbelievable. My mom lets you stay here, and you repay her by stealing? I'm calling the cops. You're done." "Unbelievable. My mom lets you stay here, and you repay her by stealing? I'm calling the cops. You're done." I smirked, unfazed. "Really? Because only an idiot would steal something and leave all the evidence lying around. Go ahead, call the police. Let's see how that works out for you."

My mother, Samantha, believed I was born a liar. Because she was deceived by my father's sweet words in her youth and abandoned after giving birth to me and my sister, Mia, she harbored a deep, bitter hatred for lies. She begged a witch for two magic rings. The rule was simple: if the wearer lied, the ring would glow red and burn them with magic. Mia's ring never hurt her, even when she broke a vase and blamed it on me. But if I simply said, "I'm thirsty," my ring would sear my flesh until I screamed. At first, I tried to defend myself, but Mom would just say, "The ring doesn't lie. Only through repeated punishment can your wicked soul be cleansed." After thousands of burns, even I started t

She just swallowed hard and walked into the motel staggeringly, clutching her purse and drugs as though her life depended on it. "Hey_____good afternoon. Can I get my room pass, please?" "Room number please_____" "Room 222____". The receptionist scanned through the system and looked up at Amanda with a lot of inquisitiveness. "That woman over there has your pass. I suppose she is your mother and I guess you're the daughter she has been looking around for ". Amanda looked in the direction where the receptionist pointed and found her mother conversing with some dude. She wondered what they were possibly discussing. She got closer to get a clearer view and to her greatest surprise she saw Brent

#ExposeMadamBuenavista My mother experienced abuse from that rich demon. My mother is a masseuse and was once summoned to their mansion to massage the demon. After the massage, she complained that my mother's hands were too heavy, and then suddenly took my mother to their basement and hit her with a wooden stick, claiming that it was so my mother could experience the pain she felt. You have no heart! You deserve to be burned in hell! #ExposeMadamBuenavista

BASTARD Wayne arrived home later than usual, his heart heavy from the memories of the girl who had saved him earlier in the day. Despite the joy that her smile had brought him, he hesitated before opening the door to his home. He knew what awaited him inside - the monster that was his mother. The sound of the creaking door echoed in his head as he stepped inside and saw her sitting in the chair, facing the entrance. Her furrowed brow and tense posture indicated her anger.

She types in the internet code that is listed on the small brochure inside the room. Within minutes she is browsing many articles on the internet about the Sleepy Oak motel and all the disappearances and murders that happened here years ago. Clicking a news article from a local news website, she reads it quickly. It tells how Nate and Dave Matthews kidnapped, raped, tortured and murdered nearly twenty women over a span of two decades. How they tried to kidnap a woman on Christmas Eve and tried to murder her husband and kids.