Val heard a knocking at her door. She was hesitant to open it, but that didn’t matter. She--her mother--let herself in. Val hadn’t gotten a good look at her mother for a while. Her mother’s age was more apparent than ever, though Val was certain she wasn’t that old. Her skin sagged and her hair dangled in front of her forehead and down past her chin, bunched up like strands of a mop. Her posture was horrible, likely a result of looming over her bedside everyday for so long. Her dress was tattered and stained. Val can’t recall if her mother had changed it since her father’s passing. She noticed a certain stain towards the right side of the dress. It was a dark crimson color.

“He’ll be back soon,” her mother said. Her voice was gravely, raspy, and dry. “He’ll be back with us soon, dear. Just wait.” Her mother left and closed the door. A chill fell down Val’s spine.