[ WP ] Mother just came home , but she 's been dead for 10 years .

`` Hi Mom'' 
 
 Her expression did n't change. It was n't likely to, I suppose. After all, it had n't changed much when she was alive, why should it now that she was dead? I held my breath for a moment, then exhaled. Briefly, the mirror she occupied grew foggy, and obscured the stern countenance I had grown accustomed to in my youth. I was twenty two now, and though it had been years since I had last seen her face I could recount every stern wrinkle and frown line that defined her. 
 
 She'd been pretty once, before she stopped smiling, with long golden brown hair that seemed to shine even when the sunlight was absent. In those days, she wore long sundresses and sandals, no matter the weather. At times she made winter warm with her smile. 
 
 At least, that's how my father would described her. 
 
 I remember another woman. A woman who had never smiled, and who's face would put a gargoyle to shame and leave scarecrows looking for other work. We agreed on the sundresses though. 
 
 `` What are you doing here mother?'' 
 She did n't answer. To be honest, I did n't expect her to. She had always wanted others to work out what she wanted, I guess this time was to be no different. 
 
 `` Did you forget something?'' 
 
 Her face twitched, much like a statue does n't. 
 
 `` Have you come to apologize?'' 
 
 She inaudibly huffed. Her whole body rising and falling. Death apparently came with a lack of gravity. 
 
 `` What then?'' 
 
 She looked sternly at me, which is to say she looked at me as her expression never changed. 
 
 `` I'm sorry, but I'm completely at a loss on why you would come back.'' 
 
 She continued to stare. I felt eleven again. Blood rushed to my cheeks. 
 
 `` Stop giving me that same damned look. I have n't done anything wrong. I'm a grown man now, and I certainly will not be made to feel like a child again by a woman who's been gone for ten years!'' 
 
 Her face lit up, and if it had been anyone else but her, I would have said they were laughing. Instead, I knew she was getting angry. I could feel my own blood beginning to boil. I turned from her, set my jaw, and began to march back to my room. She quickly zipped in front of me, putting her arms on her hips. If she could speak, I imagine I'd have been getting an earful. I did n't pretend to listen. I walked at her, determined to finish my morning routine. 
 
 As soon as I passed through her, she stopped, her jaw closing in mid-silent conversation. 
 
 `` Sorry, but I have things I have to do. I do n't have time to listen to the phantom of a woman who ca n't speak to me now, and did n't bother to when she had the chance.'' 
 
 Somehow her lips grew tighter, it was almost comical as the her false flesh nearly formed an equal sign on her face. She began to shake. So did the house. Objects began to fall from the walls, books from the bookcases, all forming a veritable commodity graveyard. 
 
 `` Seriously?!'' 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 `` This? This is what you come back for?! To wreck the house? What, to punish us? Why? Why on earth would you brave whatever hell you came through just to get back and become the same stern looking bitch I remember?! 
 
 She looked shocked, but I knew it had to be a ploy. I pushed away the wave of guilt, and continued. 
 
 `` Would it have been so much to ask for you to come back just to see us? No, no. Of course, if my mother is going to brave heaven or hell's or whatever's wraith, it's just so she accommodate whatever request she did n't feel was completed to vindicate her soul. So what is it, Mom? What did you need to hear me say just so you could live contentedly in the afterlife?'' 
 
 She was stunned. Her frozen countenance had been pushed aside, and replaced with one of abject horror. Then she cried. Big heavy sobs that wracked her whole body. I might have smiled if I had n't felt so angry. Yet, as she continued, the guilt came back. Slowly, and creeping. But back none the less. I sat down beside the grieving ghost. She wrapped translucent arms around me. I did n't feel them, but I tried to the return the gesture. 
 
 After a moment, she calmed down. Eyes somehow red, she turned from me, and looked in the mirror. Running her hands through her hair, she shook, then returned to me. Feebly, she raised her arm. A calender which had fallen on the floor amidst the ordeal rose up, and floated gently to me. It opened, and she pointed at the date. 
 
 `` 5/11/2014''' 
 
 Mother's Day. My mouth felt dry. My heart started to beat faster. I started to speak. 
 
 `` Mom, I'm so'' 
 
 She cut me off, shaking her head. She just stood looking at me, weeping. Every attempt I made to apologize, she refuted speechlessly. So I just sat there, until I began to weep myself. 
 
 ( Sorry, to anyone, if anyone reads this. It's incomplete, but I have to rush away, and wanted to get something up here. ) 

