My Evil Mother Atwood Novels & Stories

It gave her pleasure when she saw that the dogs were almost sinking their fangs into my legs. She liked it, she enjoyed seeing me hurt, she enjoyed me whimpering in pain and calling out for help, she was never going to help me, she got off of seeing me beg for mercy, she enjoyed watching me as I suffered. What kind of a mother was that? And what was even more annoying was that she wasn't in any way hiding it, she showed the world that I meant little to her. Evan Asher took note of it, he knew that anytime he saw my.mom and I talking it was never for the best because my mother was a bad person, she was a bitch, a witch that hated me, she only loved herself.

Thank you for informing me. There is something blocking my throat, but I forced myself to speak . . . again. "And where did you also get the audacity to chase me out of here when in fact, the half of this mansion is my mother's? I'm only needing a single room, for just a single night at that. You're forbidding me with all authority, yet you do not have all the rights to do so. How dare you, Dad? Is it not yet enough that you brought dirt in this mansion? They say that even a garbage can produce money. But the ones that you took are simply trashes. They cannot be recycled. They cannot be sold. Worthless!"

prepared for all of it, we gathered up and made sure we were all armed. Just incase we might need protection, as we walked in we were being stared at from all angles. I walked straight towards the bar asking for who ever is in charge and then that’s when everything turned to hell. The man pointed behind me in the darkish corner. Red fucking hair, my mother fucking mother. She looked all to please with herself as she leaned back into her chair her black boots placed on the table and a beer in hand. Well, this I did not expect, what a fucking actress she is. “You came to negotiate baby?” I could feel the bile of vomit raising into my throat as I tried to swallow it back, what the fuck did we

She looked innocent and vulnerable—but so did her mother, who’d been a real-life Poison Ivy, renowned for her voice though infamous for her sadomasochistic activities. As naïve as Mila may seem, she was astute enough to see straight through me and to quote “The Raven.” Too bad her soft heart was her downfall. Her breathing grew a little shallow, and my chest tightened with the thought I’d injected her with too much etorphine. I slapped her face. She flinched like her sleep was disturbed, and the uncomfortable sensation faded. I didn’t care about this girl. I just didn’t like killing women. Though, after my brother and I did nothing but watch while our mother choked on her own vomit, it wasn’

He can't help but chuckle bitterly. Now, he finally understood. His mother and Harper Davis have the same evil personality. They would do everything just for their gain. They're just both evil. "You hate Harper, but you aren't aware that you're just the same as her, mom.” "How dare you compare me to that woman?!" she seethed, her voice sharp with indignation. "I would never stoop to her level!"

A sharp ringing in the middle child’s ears that dropped him to his knees just beyond the threshold. By the third attempt, they stopped trying. At night, the hut breathed. The eldest lay awake, listening to the slow expansion and contraction of the walls. His anger had sharpened into focus. He no longer cried for his mother. He blamed her. Whatever had followed her into death now lived with them — and he would not kneel to it. The middle child listened differently. He heard words between the breaths of the house — fragments, instructions, names spoken without sound. When he closed his eyes, he saw paths branching endlessly, some ending in blood, some in silence, none in safety.

Mother hissed at who I guessed to be Creighton. "Leave her alone please. Take my life instead, I beg you." Mom cried out. "Oh, enough with the crocodile tears already Nuella. No one here gives a fuck about them, the only one that does, is about to die." Mother barked. "You can't do this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I tried to win over Matthews , just please forgive me and let my daughter go." Mom pleaded. "You seriously think this is only about Matthews?" Mother scoffed. "Not only did she kill my lover but she is also mated to the evil ones who burned me."

You know, I continued, circling her like a predator, you’re a terrible mother. Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t speak. What kind of mother wages war while her only son lies dead on the battlefield? What kind of woman doesn’t shed a tear, doesn’t mourn? Instead, you came here, all dressed for battle, ready to destroy everyone just to prove a point. She growled beneath her breath, but I didn’t stop. You made him a monster, Evelyn. So obsessed with power... So blinded by it that he thought he could become a god.

As I listened carefully, I vaguely heard her say, "I love Liam... Please, let him be safe..." Looking at her devout appearance, I suddenly found it laughable. Love was something I never understood for as long as I lived. However, every one of Mom's actions contradicted any definition of love. Did someone like her deserve "love?" After the failed attempts to save him, Dad died from excessive blood loss. Soon after, Mom was sent to the insane asylum. She didn't fare well there, as the place was full of unreasonable lunatics. As her family member, I applied to visit her.

The dishcloth had fallen anywhere in the room. "I don't want to repeat things to you, Elizabeth, but if you want to know who she is, all I'll tell you is that you killed her. You have murdered her. She and her son. Yes, you did. By warning Cliff's demon that they're here, you've done it." Elizabeth began to gasp, she wasn't understanding anything. "What are you talking about? I didn't kill anyone..."