Free Shadow of Perception by Kristine Mason

in pieces, while she remained alive. Living the way she wanted, the way she’d chosen.  
    “You shouldn’t talk to me that way,” Pudge said in a tone so quiet and menacing Dorothy dropped her hands and stared across the room. Fear caused by the memories of her dead husband had nothing to do with the tremors of dread rippling through her body and lodging in her gut. The midmorning sun shone through a small slit in the ripped dining room curtain. The thin stream of light played with the features on Pudge’s face.  
    For a moment, her once adorable child resembled the monster Dorothy had married and buried. Pudge’s normally bright blue eyes had darkened to black, the whites surrounding were yellowed and bloodshot. Deep scowl lines around the mouth bracketed lips too thin. Smudges under the eyes gave Pudge’s face a hollow, gaunt look of emaciation. But it was in the smile where Dorothy’s fears festered. Pudge wore a grin similar to Rick’s when he’d been ready to mete out punishment. Deviant, malicious, hateful.  
    “What’s the matter, Dot ?” Pudge asked and moved toward the living room. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    A cold prickle of unease raced along her skin. Rick had called her Dot before he’d beaten or raped her. Hearing the name from Pudge’s mouth sickened and frightened her. What if Pudge became a cruel sadist like Rick? Finding pleasure in abuse and suffering. Unsure if drugs played any role in Pudge’s change, Dorothy decided to tow a fine line. And although afraid, she shrugged. “Just thirsty is all, honey. Tired, too.” She shifted and gripped the bedrail. “Didn’t sleep well on account of heartburn and these bedsores.” Holding tight to the rail, she used her upper body strength to attempt a slight roll hoping to emphasize her pain and elicit sympathy.    
    “Maybe if you weren’t so fucking fat you wouldn’t have them.”
    “Pudge,” Dorothy said on a gasp and with genuine hurt. Of all people, Pudge had always understood the weight gain. “How could you say something like that to me? Besides, you know I have thyroid issues and—”
    “People with thyroid problems don’t blow up to six hundred pounds. No. Your issue isn’t medical. It’s called gluttony. You eat more food in one day than a normal person would eat in a week.”  
    “You make me sound like a—”
    “Pig? Just calling it like I see it.”
    The glint in Pudge’s eyes resembled Rick’s menacing glare. Uncannily so. And just like her dead husband who had held power over her all those years ago, Dorothy realized that by allowing herself to become morbidly obese, unable to walk and tend to her own needs, she’d given Pudge power over her, too. With that realization, her fear morphed to utter dread. What if Pudge forced her into a nursing home? No more frozen pizzas or Happy Jax burgers and fries. The doctors would limit her food intake not to mention the amount of TV she watched. Hell, did nursing homes even have cable?  
    Then she remembered the nurse who visited every other week. She also remembered her will and her life insurance. Pudge might scare her lately and hold some control over her, but Dorothy knew who really held the cards. And it was time Pudge had a healthy reminder.  
    Releasing the bedrail, she rolled flat on her back. “A pig, huh? Is that what you think of your mother? After all that I’ve done for you? After all that I’ve saved you from. I might be fat, but so are my benefits. You’ll receive what? Over four hundred grand when I’m dead? Unless...”
    A small smirk played at Pudge’s mouth. But it was the eyes Dorothy couldn’t look away from. Defiant, dark, unearthly. “Are you threatening me, Mama ?”  
    “Do I need to?”
    Body rigid, face expressionless, Pudge’s eyes became deadpan, blank.
    Minutes passed.  
    The laugh track from Mama’s Family sounded off in the background. A car’s engine revved somewhere down the street.  
    And Pudge hadn’t