Paxan Freck hated the smell of her mother's house. The aroma of stale smoke, mingled with old fryer grease and cats was enough to turn the young woman's stomach. More than the mixture itself, it also brought back that feeling, the one she wanted desperately to forget. She couldn't quite figure it out exactly, but the smell brought back that sensation of being a scared child, the one she used to be before she ran away from home.

That was the past though and Paxan wasn't going to let all that had happened back then to creep up and control her now. She wasn't that little kid anymore. With determination renewed, Paxan meandered through the disheveled house and made her way to the back bedroom. The redhead could hear talking and movement as she approached the door that was partially ajar. She heard the unmistakable rasp of her mother's voice, "...told you ta gimme my pills you fuckin' bitch!" she cursed.

Paxan held her breathe as she observed the nurse standing nearby with her arms crossed and a look of extreme displeasure onher face. Paxan knew all to well the kind of mood her mother could get into and even though she'd been told a number of times that this was the nature of her disease and she couldn't help it, Paxan had to admit she wouldn't blame the nurse if she slapped her mother, the patient. "Now you listen here, Mrs Freck, I ain't gonna be having any of that. I told you already I gave you your pills today," said the nurse frustratedly. She hadn't resorted to violence yet, maybe this one wouldn't quit.

The young woman wasn't about to let it get that far and before either one of them could say anything else, she stepped through the doorway, making her presence known, "Hello Mother," she said with a forced smile. She then looked to the nurse and nodded, "Hello Lupe. I'll take it from here," said Paxan with a polite thin smile. The nurse looked beyond relieved as she grabbed her things and headed for the living room.

Lenair Freck sat in her recliner, a nearby end table covered (like much of her house) with what Paxan could only describe as garbage. Since becoming ill, the woman had become somewhat of a hoarder, finding it near impossible to let go of anything. In her younger years, Lenair had been beautiful and seemingly obsessed with her appearance, atleast that's how Paxan had remembered her. Now though, the old woman looked older than her 64 years and was atleast 50 pounds heavier. Her once auburn hair was now grey and time had not been kind to her skin either, replacing her porcelain complexion with liver spots and wrinkles. Beside her right hand atop the end table was a nearly full ashtray. "How're you feeling, Mom?" asked Paxan as she emptied the ashtray into a garbage can and set it back on the table.

Lenair looked at her youngest daughter with an arched brow, comprehension not quite there yet, "Charleston? Did you dye your hair," she asked with a furrowed brow.

Paxan took a breathe and patted her mothers hand, the gesture as uncomfortable for the young woman as holding a hot coal, "No...Mom, it's me Paxan. Remember? I moved back here a few months ago."

Lenair examined Paxan like a bug then seemed to understand, "Ooh...Paxy. My baby." she said joyfully while leaning forward and patting Paxan on the cheek. The younger Freck had to force herself not to flinch from her touch but Lenair didn't seem to notice, "How are you, my baby? Lookin' so pretty. Are you staying for dinner?"

The Frecks as a family hadn't had dinner together (that wasn't fast-food take out) since before Paxan had been a teenager and those times were anything but pleasant and uniting. "No, Mom," said the younger woman, "I just came to see how you're doing. You look good..." she said but could instantly tell by her mother's expression that she was changing before her eyes, another symptom of the disease. Instant mood swing.

"Well ofcourse I look good!" barked Lenair as she pulled her hand away and snatched up a pack of Marlboros, "I ain't never felt better either. I dinnah know why you got those fuckin' mesicans over here all the time. Spicks are tryin' to steal my shit!"

Paxan hated being here as it was but she hated this part of it even more. "Mom, they're not stealing from you. Lupe is a nurse and a really good one. She's taking care of you..." she explained as calmly as possible and deciding not to point out that Lupe was actually from Honduras.

"Fuck that cunt!" swore Lenair, "She tryin' to steal all my fuckin' money! All you cunts are!"

"Mother, stop!" pleaded Paxan.

"Don't you fuckin' tell me to stop, you whore! And don't think I don't know what yer after either. I know you heart," Lenair spat, "...you sneaky little tramp! I know you been fuckin' my Sam! I know you are nothin' but a slutty temptrous, trying' to steal my man!"

The old woman's words stung Paxan like a slap to the face and she had to really think about who Sam was before remembering that he had been a boyfriend of her mother's when Paxan was only eleven years old. He had been particularly nasty and perverted when it came to the children and Paxan had suffered terrible abuse by that bastard. The fact that her mother would accuse Paxan of having a consensual affair with him at that age proved just how senile Lenair had become...but still, it didn't make it any easier to hear. Sam has been a molester, a sexual predator and one of the many men, Lenair Freck had brought into their lives, then ignored all the warning signs when her children were being abused. Lenair had been like a moth to a flame when it came to whom she chose to bring home. It's what caused Paxan to leave in the first place. The hatred and resentment she had developed for her mother (and to some extent her older sister who'd also run away to escape, leaving Paxan to endure it alone for a time) had created a lot of anger and bitterness in the young woman. All she had wanted was to go away from this place and never come back.

How had she come back here, to this place, Paxan wondered. She had escaped, she'd broken free from her mother, the bad memories and the nightmare that had been her childhood but now, here she was back again and being forced to relive the twisted words of a demented old woman. Why had she agreed to come back?

Paxan couldn't answer that then and definitely not now that she'd relocated to Hathian after learning her mother was suffering from Alzhiemer's disease. She felt it just the right thing to do maybe - to give her mother what she'd never gotten from her? Or maybe she needed to see for her own eyes what the old bag had become - a pathetic lonely old crone, living in squaller.

"...well, you ain't gonna have him," Lenair was still raving, "He's mine, ya hear! I ain't lett'in you have him! Whore! Cunt! Whore!!"

Paxan snapped. "Mother, shut up! Just shut the fuck up! No one wanted that fucking bastard but you!"

"Excuuuuse me?" Lenair guffawed, "How dare you!"

"No! How dare you?!" Paxan hissed, her rage boiling up and overflowing. It felt like a torrent breaking thru a dam and she knew she couldn't stop it now, nor did she want to. "How dare you say those things to me after what you did! After you turned a blind eye all those times Sam...or one of the other pedophiles you brought home that dared to touch me!" Paxan's voice was beginning to get louder but Paxan didn't care, "How dare you not protect us or kill the mother fucker who dared come near me or Charlie! You were my mother!" she growled, her eyes inexplicably dry. She had no more tears for this woman now. None, whatsoever.

Lenair swung her arms, fists clenched but not making it past the confines of her old arm chair, "It never happened! God damn you evil child of mine!Liar! Lying whore!I shoulda never kept you! Shoulda kept the boy! Not no lying whore cunt!" ranted the old woman, her words almost incomprehensible. By now, Paxan was overcome with anger towards her mother. Any excuse of this "being the disease talking" was gone and Paxan backed away to avoid being throttled.

"You're the sick one, not me!" Paxan shrieked, loosing her temper as she stabbed at the air in Lenair's direction, "Charlie and I were just kids and you had to have known but you never tried to stop what was happening. So that's on you now! God help you old woman!"

Lenair's face had gone pale, her blue eyes staring at Paxan expressionless. Was this it, Paxan wondered breathlessly, had she finally reached her mother? Would Lenair finally accept what the truth was and beg her for forgivness just like she'd wanted all her life? Her questions were answered when the old woman spoke, but it wasn't what Paxan had wanted to hear...

"Charlie...Charleston is that you? You dyed your hair red?"

Paxan bit down on her lip, the tears that had not existed earlier instantly flooding her eyes. She wanted to die, to crawl up and die at that moment but she couldn't. She wiped at her eyes and tried to hold it together, "No, Mom. It's me...Paxan...I-I just came to see how you're doing..."