Her words were sharp, almost tinged with anger as she tried to pull my mother back from the edge of her mounting anxiety. Abigail’s tone was a mix of impatience and concern, as if she was struggling to make my mother see reason.
“Think about it, Mom,” Abigail continued, her voice growing firmer. “How could they say that the body have a family photo of us? We never even had a picture together with Lily. It's just a trick to scare you and then siphon off all your money.”
Her words seemed to pierce through my mother’s cloud of confusion. My mother’s eyes widened as the reality of the situation began to sink in. Her face, previously pale and troubled, flushed with a mix of anger and realization. With a sharp exhale, she erupted, “These damn liars have no conscience!”
Her voice was filled with a raw, intense frustration that cut through the remaining echoes of panic. She paced back and forth, her anger palpable as she continued, “It’s supposed to be a big day and they chose to bring this up now? Even if there was some truth to it, why pick today to stir up such nonsense? They’re jinx just like her!”
Abigail shook her head, trying to calm the storm. “Exactly, Mom. They’re just trying to upset you. Don’t let them ruin today. It’s supposed to be a day of celebration, not a day for these idiots to spread their lies.”
As my mother’s anger raged on, I felt a profound and inexplicable bitterness. Although I couldn't physically feel pain, there was a deep, aching sense of sadness that lingered. The realization that my death, rather than being met with grief or mourning, was dismissed as an inconvenience struck a bitter chord.
I had never fully grasped how deeply my mother’s feelings of resentment and hatred toward me ran. It was a painful realization that, even in death, my existence seemed to be an inconvenience and a source of discomfort rather than something mourned or missed. My mother’s immediate reaction—angry and dismissive—made it clear that my death was a mere disruption to her life, more an annoyance than a tragedy.
Even though a soul can't really feel physical pain, I couldn’t shake the deep bitterness I felt. It was like a heavy weight inside me. I never realized just how much my mother’s disdain for me had grown. I always knew there was tension, but this was something else entirely.