Understanding The Borderline Mother Novels & Stories

My mother, Sophie Nash, was also my homeroom teacher, and she loved nothing more than using me to assert her authority. She was convinced that the worse off I was, the more afraid my classmates would be, and the higher her authority would be. Once, when I passed an eraser to a classmate during class, she slapped me so hard across the face in front of the whole class that my face swelled up. Another time, after I secretly ate a crumb of a classmate’s snack during recess, my mom dragged me up to the front of the classroom and pricked my lip with a needle until blood gushed out. Later, when a classmate was caught by the vice principal for having a romantic relationship while underaged, my m

Alas, I was already dead, and the dead could not cry out in pain. In the end, Mom was sent to a psychiatric hospital. Her self-harm had gotten so severe that she almost electrocuted herself at home. The community intervened and had her forcibly admitted. She became the strangest patient there. Somehow, she got hold of a red plastic ring and wore it around her neck as her collar. Anyone who tried to remove it would be met with frantic biting, as if she had gone rabid. "Don't touch my collar! Irene is watching! She'll be mad if you take it off!"

Saw me feel the bond muffle. “Your warriors can’t reach you,” she said pleasantly. “The barriers will hold long enough.” She took a step toward me, the practiced warmth fully gone now, the thing underneath it fully visible — the obsession that had driven twenty years of planning, the grief of a person who’d wanted something real and had been handed the tools of harm instead and had chosen to use them. “Mother started this,” she said. “I’m going to finish it.” She smiled. “Now, let’s finish what my mother started.“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

I appreciated that, at least. I spent the first hour alone unpacking and thinking, which is how I process most things: methodically, turning each piece of information over until I understand which side has the useful edge. My mother had been pack-born. She had fled a controlling Alpha—Dominic and Rafe's father. She had spent my entire childhood hiding me from a world she knew I was built for, and she had done it, I was beginning to understand, out of genuine love and genuine fear in equal, inseparable measure. I could not be angry at her for it. I could be sad, and I was, and I let myself be sad for approximately fifteen minutes before I put it away and returned to the practical.

Mother looked straight at her before going on. “The Final Binding will break you down to your lowest and then rebuild you from the inside out. Your final gift is usually the most stubborn to emerge; therefore the most gloriously excruciating changes occur.” When horrified murmurs began, Mother raised a hand and the room stilled. They all knew the cost of rousing her ire. Though usually composed, when she did lose control it was like a switch flipping, suddenly Zraconian, and no one wanted that. She pushed away from her desk and walked between the rows of seats.

She even took a knife and slashed at my skin, leaving trails of blood. That bloody scene shocked my dad. The man who had always been absent suddenly exploded. He raised his hand and slapped my mom hard across the face. "You crazy woman! How could you treat my child like this? Do you have any humanity left? That's our son... Your own flesh and blood!" My mom's head snapped to the side from the blow. However, this time, she did not fight back. She did not argue. She just stared blankly ahead. "This…isn't my fault…"

“When you said you wanted to go out on a territorial survey, I was more than happy we were strengthening our border security so nothing like this would even happen. But it did. And where were you?” The question mother asked hung heavy and unavoidable like an elephant in the room. “All I wanted was for Ariana to be safe, and you criticize me for it. I don’t like this, I don’t want it. I’m leaving,” mother said, getting up. She brushed past Marco, who held her hand. Mother turned and looked at his hold, then at his face. Her eyes narrowed before she freed her arm from his grip and left, shutting the door with a loud bang.

she had made that clear over and over again. His mother had been nothing short of kind and sweet ever since she had adopted him, That's why Adrian could never relate to the version of her the workers seemed to have, he had never met that woman they feared so much, and then, there was this person AA. Adrian was sick and tired of them! why were they messing up with their business? Why do people push others to the edge and then act confused when react or move? Why do people assume that someone would somehow remain static or was born void of emotions and feelings?why though? make it make sense!

"Kory, where the hell are you? Don't tell me you're in the human realm! Those creatures are unsightly and vile Kory. How can you live with them!? Talk with them? Breath the same air those things do? Kory, you're Royalty! You know that? You're a failure doesn't mean you're family! Your constant fails won't rub off on your sweet brother; he can never be as lowly as you. He knows the true importance of working hard, unlike you Kory! Your brother is the only day or sunshine we have in this family. You're the black sheep yes, but that doesn't give you the right to leave. Kory you're a failure and..." Kory ended the call abruptly. She tossed her phone on the floor. It broke into numerous piece but

Of course, meaning we’ll do as we like. “The border patrol reports… an absence,” another prodded. “There will be no search.” “You cannot know she is safe,” a third pressed. “I know what happens if you find her.” My voice dropped to steel. “And it ends with your blood on my floor.” My father’s ring scraped the table. Warning. Pride. I didn’t care which. Mother’s gaze lifted then, sharp and steady. She didn’t speak—she didn’t have to. Her look cut deeper than words: You are breaking what the Goddess gave you, boy. And you know it.