So nobody ever told you baby
How it was gonna be
So what’ll happen to you baby
Guess we’ll have to wait and see
(Silverstone Household, April 20th, 1994)
“Amanda! AMANDA!! Come back! You need to listen to me! I can explain!”
Amanda ran down the hallway, her pajama bottoms slowly slipping from her hips down to her ankles. Before she could reach the stairs, they fell to her feet, tripping her. She stumbled, falling to the floor as her mother came running behind her. She stopped in front of her daughter, putting her hands up in the air in front of her defensively.
“Amanda, honey, please……you need to listen and let me explain!”
Amanda pulled her pajama bottoms back up to her waist, clutching them in both hands in a twisted jumble.
“You did this to me! YOU fucking did this to me! You just admitted it! Look at me!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face. “I look like a fucking child! I AM a fucking child! You should have just let me go to jail! I can’t believe you did this to me! I can’t believe you……..” Amanda’s face suddenly contorted, then she began bawling hysterically.
Rachel stood in front of her daughter, frozen in panic. She knew this day was coming. Now, it was here. The question was whether she was going to be able to do what she knew she had to. She felt sick to her stomach, battling against her inclination to apologize and grovel as she always had or to do what Dr. Gembella had told her to do and “act like a mother”. After what seemed like an eternity, something inside her head clicked. She was not going to make the same mistakes twice. No. It was time to show her daughter who was in charge now. For her own good.
“Amanda, get up. Get up right now. Get up so we can get you dressed for breakfast” she commanded, straightening her posture and walking over to help her daughter off the floor.
Amanda kicked at her mother, sliding backwards across the floor. “Fuck you. FUCK you! You stupid CUNT! I hate you! I HATE you!”
Rachel’s brow furrowed. “Amanda Alicia Silverstone, if you swear one more time………”
Rachel walked over to her daughter, reached down and yanked her up by the arm. Amanda attempted to strike her, but Rachel grabbed her wrist and practically dragged her to the bathroom. Amanda kicked and screamed, threatening all sorts of horrors on her mother if she wasn’t released immediately.
Rachel ignored her daughter’s threats, easily controlling the eleven-year-old child and taking her to the bathroom. She ran the warm water in the sink, then after testing its temperature she grabbed the nearby bar of soap resting in the dish by the handle.
She brought Amanda close to the sink, forced her mouth open and began to soap it. Amanda spit and choked as the suds entered her mouth. She continued to struggle, even though she had no way of overpowering her mother, who know easily physically dominated her. After what seemed like an eternity, Rachel removed the soap from her daughter’s mouth.
“Rinse your mouth and spit it out, Amanda” she commanded. Amanda complied, weeping and choking as she did so. She looked up at her mother with a look of shock and disbelief. Her mother had never, ever disciplined her like that before. In fact, she had never disciplined her at all. Moreover, the fact that she had been so easily physically manipulated now made her feel very small. For the first time, Amanda realized that her mother’s appearance had changed. Her face was more vibrant and youthful. Her figure was tighter and more svelte. Her breasts no longer sagged but now looked perky and taught.
“Now, am I going to hear any more swearing from you, missy?” she asked sharply.
Amanda stared at her mother with wide eyes, shook her head “no” and began to weep again.
“That’s what I thought. Now, we’re going to have the conversation we just tried to have, except this time you’re going to sit there and listen like a good girl instead of throwing a tantrum and having a potty mouth, is that clear?”
Amanda nodded her head, still looking down at the ground. Her mother left the bathroom and Amanda followed behind her, occasionally coughing up the soap that had made its way down her throat.
When they returned to Amanda’s room, her mother picked up the mess of blankets and pillows that had been thrown about when Amanda was informed of the true nature of her bodily changes. She’d been apoplectic, throwing pillows at her mother and tossing her sheets about. Halfway through cleaning up her daughter’s mess she suddenly dropped the bundle of bedding she was holding.
“Actually……” she began, turning towards her daughter “……you made a mess and now you can clean it up. Make your bed, Amanda. Then we’ll talk.”
(Silverstone Household, April 29th, 1994)
“Mom! I’ve seen it before! I just want to watch it again! You’re not being fair!” Amanda shouted as her mother popped the Terminator 2 tape out of the VCR.
“You’re too young to watch this, Amanda!” her mother shouted back. “This isn’t appropriate for you anymore. You can watch Aladdin or The Little Mermaid, but you are absolutely not watching anything ‘R’ rated!”
Amanda felt herself beginning to cry. She was finding it harder and harder to keep her emotions in check and found that she was moved to tears much more easily than a few weeks ago. Being told that she was too young to watch an R-rated movie made her feel incredibly childish, but she refused to cry in front of her mother. She bit her lip, turned around and ran up the stairs.
Amanda shut the door to her room, locking it. The urge to rebel and express anger and rage had been building up inside of her since her mother informed her that she was doomed to relive her childhood. She reached into her CD rack and pulled out Nirvana’s “Nevermind” and popped it into the Sony CD player/boombox combo that rested on her dresser and pressed “Play”.
The first few chords of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” rang out in her room, followed by the saturated, distorted sound of electric guitar. Amanda began jumping up and down and singing along at the top of her lungs. Doing it made her feel a sense of power, as if she was in control of at least a small part of her life. After a few minutes, a loud knocking was heard from the door. Amanda simply didn’t care. She was having fun and she was in no mood to stop. A few moments later, the lock to the door was opened and Amanda’s mother barged into the room, walking over to the stereo and pulling the plug.
“MOM! I’m listening to music! You said I was allowed to!” Amanda protested.
“At LOW volume, Amanda! I thought I made that clear?” her mother snapped back, holding the stereo’s power cord in her hand.
Amanda, still in a state of excitement from her private concert, temporarily forgot herself. “Just plug it back in, mom! You’re killing my buzz! The song is almost finished!” she shouted, walking towards her mother and grabbing the cord.
“Give it back! Give it BACK! I wanna finish the songgggg!” she whined, pulling on it to no avail.
Amanda’s mother raised the cord higher, out of her daughter’s reach. “Amanda, this is your last warning! You are DONE listening to music for today, do you understand? Now go downstairs and get ready for lunch!”
Amanda remained undeterred and continued to reach for the cord. Without warning, her mother grabbed her by the wrist, dragged her to the bed and pulled her shorts and panties down to her ankles. She dragged Amanda over her knee and began to spank her rapidly.
Amanda tensed up in pain, shocked by what her mother was doing to her. Her mind was blank from shock, but now she was beginning to feel the pain resulting from the barrage of slaps to her rear end. She struggled to break away from her mother as she swatted her backside, kicking her legs in a desperate attempt to free herself from the vulnerable position she was in. She soon realized it was no use. Her mother had completely immobilized her. She began to cry out for her to stop, but the assault against her backside persisted. Her cries turned to sobs and soon Amanda was blubbering as tears streamed down her face. She went limp in her mother’s lap, simply hoping that it would all be over soon.
Her mother finally ceased spanking her daughter and stood her up, taking her by the hand and making her face the corner of her room near her stereo. Amanda stood, staring at the wall and crying as her mother picked up the boombox and put it under her arm.
“You can pull your pants back up once lunch is ready. Then you can come down and eat. As for your stereo, you’ll get this back if you behave for the rest of the day” she stated sternly. With that, the door to her room was shut and Amanda was left to sob in the silence of her bedroom.
As Amanda stood in the corner weeping, she placed her hands on her bottom, which was burning from the abuse it had received. She looked down at the floor and saw the CD case for “Nevermind” lying beside her feet, knocked off the dresser when her mother pulled the stereo away. She stared at the naked baby on the cover, then had a disturbing thought that she couldn’t bear to entertain for more than a second. She kicked the CD away from her and watched it slide under her bed, then faced the corner again and waited for her mother to tell her she was allowed to leave her room.