Mothers Day

A home in the woods with not a single light in sight has a dark story for us to tell of a son who loves his mom so much and just can't ever let her leave. HA HAH HAHa.

I love my mom so much it’s almost unbelievable how much. I can’t wait to give her my gift for Mother’s Day. She’s downstairs as always, making a fuss about things.

I know, Mom — I need to clean the dishes.

I’m getting to it right now.

I hum softly while I work. The dishes are so clean and sparkly, not a single speck of dirt or grime. Finally done, I turn to go grab my present and give it to her.

Then I stop.

Darn. I forgot to wrap it.

“It’s okay, son.”

“I know, but I should probably wrap it.”

“It’s okay.”

“…Okay.”

I take a breath and head toward the stairs. Walking down them always feels like a death sentence. The wood is rotted. Every step creaks. It’s been like that for years.

“Oh look, there’s Mom,” he says, staring into a dark corner where a rocking chair sits.

The chair moves slightly. Something sloches inside it.

“Oh, Mother… you’re letting yourself go. Why so pale?” he asks as he steps closer.

“You just couldn’t stay with me. You had to try to go somewhere else. But the joke’s on you. I wouldn’t let you leave. Now you’re stuck with me.”

He touches her face.

No skin.

Just bone.

A corpse.

Rotting.

Flesh long gone.

Only bones.

“Oh, Mother, here… I got you a hat,” he says, placing it gently on her head.

The skull slides off and hits the floor.

“MOTHER, HOW COULD YOU?” he screams. “I used what’s left of my money to buy you this!”

He runs up the stairs in tears.