Mother always had this kind, serene look on her face—the kind of face you would expect to see on any mother facing their child. A generous smile on her lips, and the smell of sunshine and flowers reminded you of happy times in life.
That was Mother. That was how I always remembered her.
But at that moment, she had a sad look on her face. A slight frown, downturned eyes tinged with guilt, and no smile was on her lips. Just a straight line, pressed stiffly.
"Am I delusional?!" I screamed, because I was more angry than scared at that point.
She looked at me with a sigh and closed her eyes. "...No, you're not."
I had been questioning myself over and over again on the way, to the point of almost believing that I was the crazy one.
What if I was the crazy one? What if, like Natha said, I was just imagining things? What if this was just me going crazy and being delusional?
