“Mum, if you’re out there, please come home, we’re worried about you,” I whispered into the darkness of my empty house. Ever since my mother’s sudden disappearance, life had been a constant struggle. I missed her every day and couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
As I sat in front of the mirror rehearsing my lines for an upcoming play, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Startled, I turned around, but no one was there. I brushed it off as my imagination running wild and continued to practice, determined to nail every word of my monologue.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway. My heart racing, I turned to face the open doorway, but no one was there. I tried to convince myself that it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but the footsteps grew louder and closer until they were right behind me. I could feel a cold breath on my neck, and I froze with fear.
In the mirror, I could see my reflection change into my mother’s face. Her eyes were sunken, dark circles under them. She wore the dress I remembered her in the day she died. Her mouth moved but no sound came out. I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, she had disappeared.
Shaken by the encounter, I fled from the house, leaving everything behind. I never returned to that place again. I like to think my mother’s spirit was trying to tell me something that night, trying to warn me about something horrific that was going to happen. Whatever it was, I didn’t stick around to find out.
