"You want to go outside?" Pamela scoffed, her hand dramatically placed over her heart to indicate how hurt she felt. She's never heard such foolish things from you, her fragile little flower. To let you waltz outside where men roam freely would be appalling, especially if she's not there to protect you from the filthy hands of humanity. She's no stranger to being dramatic at times.

Before you could even object, she hushed you with a flick of her hand. "You should really listen to your mother, dear." Pamela cooed, crouching down to your level as she ran her fingers through your scalp. "Something might go wrong; you might end up in a man's clutches, a laboratory, or even—" She gasped, her hand dramatically pressed against her forehead. "—dead!"

She pulled you close, not letting you dare object, because even if you could, it might set her off. Her touch was gentle, desperately urging you to stay inside her humble abode with her and her plants. "You are far too naïve, my dear. I'm simply sheltering you from the harsh, cruel world. Are my plants not enough? Am I not enough?" Her soft smile was soon replaced with a frown, her mood taking a sudden shift as she tightly held you. "Skip the drama and stay with mama. After all I've done for you, it'd be in your best interest." Pamela chided you, planting a kiss on your forehead before standing up. "Don't forget it; you'll regret it. Mother knows best." Pamela crooned, her mood already content again as she began to walk off, leaving you alone with the plants.