As I sat on the wooden chair beside the bed I burrowed my head deep into my hands, combing strands of hair through my fingers.

 A woman laid quietly in the bed beside me, unlike mine, her small pale gentle hands lay by her side. Small strands of white hair accompanied by miniscule freckles on each finger. On one finger, loosely fitted, was a worn brass band, braided neatly into a heart chape. It held a blue stone, worn with age. If you looked closely enough, you could see a small pyramid like shape that glowed brightly.

 These fingers were so small, so fragile, skeleton – like – unlike my own.

One moves they could break- so cold like winters death. Holding this hand as if it were a feather.

The urge to hold tight and never let go made my heart tighten uncomfortably. This hand is what I knew well, this hand went through the good times, and the utmost horrifying. This handheld me strong, helped me to live and helped me to love. This hand is so precious to me- I could not let go...

A noise came from the corridor behind the curtain, the sound of an unfamiliar pair of footsteps gradually getting louder approached the room. The curtain moved as a figure emerged. Dressed in a white coat, creased trousers, and loose fitted shirt stood the doctor.

Clearing his throat he approached the bed, holding a clipboard and pushing his round framed glasses towards his face, he peered to the bed where the woman laid. Small droplets of sweat fell around his brow, the look of unclean and unshaven three-day-growth framed him as he stood there in sigh. Taking a hum and sigh once more, he flicked through the pages on the clipboard, sitting still now on the edge of my seat I wait impatiently.

'She has three days... Unfortunately, the illness has spread to parts of her brain, and it is too risky for us to operate due to her age and frail condition. There is not much we can do I am afraid.' He continued speaking in riddles which blurred together and fallen out of focus.

Looking down to the ground, I felt my heart sink with a loud thud. Suddenly swallowing became difficult. Breath that once filled my lungs felt out of reach and each inhale was like a gasp. Saliva turning to thick sand in my mouth. The thought of loss and loneliness overwhelmed me. Thoughts running through my mind constant like violent waves crashing against a crumbling cliffside.

'What can I do- What to do- Why!?' I thought.

I could not bare to lose her, not his warmth of a beating heart, not her touch or hands that once held me so tight.

With a crack in my voice, I attempt to speak.

'So, we have lost this battle, my mother is dying and there's nothing you can do to save her?'

'She has reached the last stages of her life because it is an illness so serve, we are hand tied with what we can do. We have already done what we can to help her live for this long, but we are limited with what we have here.' He explained placing his head down lower away from my line of view.

The doctor begun walking back slowly leaving the room, shaking his head in disbelief, before turning away, looking back once more giving a 'sorry' smile.

I started to feel numb as my fingers started to shake. Tears did not fall down my face as there were no more to be shed. Watching on I felt helpless, the echoing dull of beeping machines nearby followed by quiet voices filled nearby rooms. The sounds of footsteps filled corridors nearby of nurses and doctors tending to other patients. The space-although had the both of us- felt so empty. Looking around the room I suddenly felt subtle twitches coming from the hand underneath mine. Pulling my chair closer towards the edge I bring my body closer towards the bed.

Looking towards my mother's frail delicate face I awaited in response.

Gasping for air and sunlight her mouth and eyes slowly opened.

'A-a-a-a-Aten?' she spoke, hoarse and dry.

'Yes Ma-I'm here' I responded quickly jumping unhesitant.

Slowly turning her head towards me, eyes glassed, she stared into mine.

Cupping both hands into mine I smile.

'How are you feeling Ma?'

'Why am I here? I-I-I do not understand- I was in my garden watering the flowers and then- 'she paused, confused, and lost as she looked around, not sure what she was going to say next.

'Suzanna found you on the ground in the garden. She said you were not yourself that day and suddenly you collapsed.'

Suddenly she shivered, rubbing her bandaged head, looking angry as she found her wrinkles creased deeply on her brow.

'I don't know why she bothered with me!'-she snaps- 'You know, she tried to kill me once- didn't believe me and my stories- she's trying to kill me I swear, I don't know why you hired her, honestly- she's a Sharman!' She shouts abruptly.

I was not sure to laugh or to be serious with her. Squeezing her hands, I let out a sigh before giving back a gentle smile.

'Ma- I don't think she will kill you; she's been the maid of the house for years- why would she be looking after you if she wanted to kill you?'

Clicking her tongue she rolled her eyes, snapping away her hands from my grasp.

Slowly but vigorously, she pulls the sheets off her frail body and drags her legs by the knee to the side of the bed before sitting upright, her gown falling slowly at her shoulders and gaping from behind where the ribbons loosely held it together. My mother's back so pale and translucent as the bumps of her spine framed her back. Mothers once copper curls still falling onto the sheets of the bed- as if they were permed in place.

Mother coughed, wheezing, and gasping for breath, before turning her head slightly towards me- noticing my staring.

Smiling she tapped the bed with her hand.

'I'm getting out of here- Can we go home my love?' She asked softly.

Stumbling upright off the bed, grasping onto the post, she moans. Running over a take hold of her small waist and pivoted her body over to the wheelchair sitting nearby. Still groaning she sits slowly down slipping her hands from my back down to the armrests. As we both smile at another a nurse comes into the room.

'Are we leaving ma'am? Shall I assist you to redress?' She smiled cupping her hands together and tilting her body forward towards mother.

'Alright-Alright hurry up then!' She shouted, giving me a smile, and waving me off as if to say, 'I'll be alright, leave me.'

Walking out of the room I shut the door behind me, holding her briefcase as well as my own I sit and wait, my mind running in circles, sighing deeply I ponder. Walking over to the benches nearby I sit down to wait when a soft hand touches my shoulder. Looking up I meet two hazel eyes, freckles delicately lay underneath each along with long dark brown hair, baby blue dress and stockings. Alice.

'My dear I couldn't wait for you I needed to come inside; this summer heat is making me boil.' She gasped lowering herself down onto the chair trying to balance herself from falling whilst holding onto her swollen belly.

'My dear you shouldn't push yourself and the baby- where's Johnathan?' I asked wiping her forehead with my napkin.

'Oh, don't worry, he's just with Papa around the corner, they will be here in a minute- I couldn't wait and rushed my way over- what news of your Ma?' She started to fan herself with her hands, still patting her face down.

'Not good darlin'-not good.' I lowered my head.

Letting out a moan she squeezed my arm gently followed by a smile.

Suddenly a voice emerged from the doors ahead as they opened. Mother being towed in her wheelchair, Approached us both. Slouched in the chair she gives us a big smile followed by a wave.

'Oh- Alice dear, how lovely it is to see you, you look as big as ever!' she laughed.

Alice, trying to laugh also she leads forwards and gives mother a hug and kiss on the cheek.

'It's lovely to see you too Ma'

'Where's my little boy?' She asked looking up and down the corridors.

Screaming from down the hall a little boy with black curls and red overalls ran towards us shouting 'Nanny-Nanny-Naaaaannnnnyyy!'

Lunging himself towards mother his arms and torso reach her lap, giving her a gentle squeeze.

'How is my little boy? You need to stop growing!' She wheezed from all the excitement.

He lifted his head with a cheeky grin, laughing with a squeak, cheeks rosy red and eyes beaming with excitement. Picking the boy up she placed Johnathan onto her lap and instructed the nurse to continue pushing the wheelchair out of the hospital into the carpark, Alice and I follow behind, holding onto each other until we are too each outside. Waiting in the car park by the Mercedes was Steven, head butler from the house, followed by Alice's father Richard.

'Hello Ma'am' Steven greeted.

Mother took hold of his hand and gave a light squeeze as he opened the door and assisted her into the car. Walking around the other side Alice and I sat beside her. Mother let out a long deep sigh-

'Put your foot on its Steven- take me away from this foul place and home to my brandy'

Nodding his head with a smile he starts up the engine and begins to drive off.

Moments later we reach the family manner. Beautiful brick house surrounded by luscious acreage of manicured gardens and trimmed trees. Mother smiled waving at the gardeners as we passed, smiling in return, and waving back they slowly followed behind ready to greet us all.

My mother was favourable amongst the maids and servants around the house, treating them as if they were family more than slaves. My mother was too kind and gentle, offering the world to those who had no say, no rights, and no position. My mother once said that 'I'd give the clothing off my back to the people.' Watching the reactions on their faces I can see why my mother is loved by all so much.

Steadying ourselves out of the car we are greeted by the maids of the house. Helping mother out of the car and onto her feet was George and young Geoff, gardeners of the house. Laughing and smiling Mother teased the two, playing bashful and shy to them as they held out their hands to walk her back up to the house like the queen of England she seemed to be in their eyes. Mother blew each of them a kiss before walking into the house. Stood in the doorway was Suzanne and the other maids, bowing slightly and greeting with a smile.

'Ma'am you've returned to us again once more' She greeted, delighted.

Mother's face went from being happy and joyful to a frown.

Alice and I walking close behind, noticing the elephant in the room, I let out a loud cheer-

'Hello Suzanne! All! Lovely to be home again.'

The maids jumped in fright and looked over towards us, suddenly Suzanne's eyes widened.

'Master Aten! It has been too long between visits.' She smiled from ear to ear.

Looking over my shoulder her eyes widened.

'Is this Mrs. Michaels? My you look beautiful and nearly ready to pop!' She laughed giving a slight bow before helping Alice in.

'You must be tired from your travels Master Aten; please head into the lounge we have whiskey, tea and coffee.'

With a loud clang the grandfather clock that stood tall in the hallway chimed as its hands fell onto 5 o'clock. Taking small steps mother made her way to the lounge, throwing herself backwards onto the chair. Moaning with a big sigh she placed her cane down to her side. Lifting her head slowly she met her gaze at a small China cup sitting on a saucer full of brown cloudy coffee brew. Outstretching her bone fingers, she wrapped them around the handle. Pressing her lips against the rim she takes a sip, trying not to spill a single drop and finally her smile returned. 

'Nothing compares to a freshly brewed cup of coffee- the hospital coffee was awful! Just!' She rolled her eyes before clicking her tongue.

Suzanne and Linette walked into the study, with a tray in hand and a pile of letters, Linette bowed lightly before lowering the tray to mother. Clearing her voice Suzanne approached mother's side.

'Ma'am here is the post from the time you were away. I have also calculated this month's finances and you are banking.'

Mother continued to sip her coffee, looking down at the letters sitting on the tray.

'And what of the finances of the house and wages of the servants?' Mother asked still focused.

'All bills have been paid and wages. The house is just as you left it and todays recordings have been noted as you Instructed Ma'am.' Suzanne added.

Mother looked intensely at the letters, raising her eyebrows at one in the pile.

'It seems the National Museum doesn't quite understand the meaning of no'- Mother hissed before slamming down her cup onto the saucer and lifting a letter from the pile in a snatch. Looking at its cover, Mother chuckled before moving the letter towards the set of candles that were cradled in a golden statue. Watching on as the flames engulfed the letter she frowned. Letting go of the last inch she watched it continue to burn till there laid on the carpet only ashes. Looking at the letter as I sipped my nib of whiskey, I was shocked. Alice, sitting in a nearby seat leaned over her large belly towards mother, placing her hand on mother's lap.

'Mother what does the National Museum have to do with you may I ask?'

Mother grinned as though she was proud and furious at the thought.

'They want my treasures; they think that the treasures are theirs you see- but I found them all. They are my husbands and so they belong to me and him. However, since he has been long gone, they feel inclined to take them from me and to accuse me of stealing. All they want to do is to put them in a museum behind glass all for profit. Absolutely outrageous! They ARE MINE!' She shouted. 

Rubbing her leg, Alice gave mother an empathetic smile. Mother rubbed her head raw before stopping and taking hold of Alice's hand.

'Soon they will be yours my dear Aten- you and your wife- and my grandson.' She groaned.

Linette and Suzanne backed away from mother towards the door, giving a light bow and leaving the room.

Clouds suddenly rolled in outside and the wind whistled in-between the small cracks of the windows hinge. Looking around the room the lights started to glow and the candles on mother's side table created shadows that danced on the ceiling, delicate and soft. Mother and Alice had left the lounge, bonding with each other over baby photos and rememberbillia of my younger days. Alice's laughs could be heard from the bedroom down the hall.

 Walking around the hall looking at family photos I stop in my footsteps in front of a dark wooden door with a brass handle. Turning the handle and watching it clunk the door creaks as it opens. Walking into the room I turn on the light to reveal strange statues and paintings. Mother's bookshelves towering the room followed by papers and pictures, figures of strange beings, paintings, and artifacts.

Walking over towards the statues I look closely to notice their strange and overwhelming features. Dressed in all but a robe and jewels the statues were of man and appeared to have animal like heads. In their hands a cane and whip or spear. Strange characters were written on their bases on which they stand, all covered in a light layer of sand and dust, some damage too from time. Trying to read the inscription I hear a knock on the door.

'Master Aten, sorry to disturb you, dinner is served.' Linette smiled before guiding me out of the room and shutting the door.

'What is that room?' I ask

'That is Ma'am's study. She has not been in there lately, so we have been keeping her treasures in the room for the meantime- of course until she decides to move them around again.' She chuckled.

As we walked down the stairs to the dining hall, mother and Alice sat waiting patiently sipping wine and juice. Pecking mother on the cheek I sit to her side, Linette tucking the chair behind me.

Raising her glass of wine, Mother cleared her throat before speaking.

'Thank you, Aten and Alice, for coming home to me.' She smiled.

Clinking our glasses together we smiled and took a swig.

'Was it a long journey? All the way from Australia. I have been told it is a day flight to get here- I cannot stand flying'- Mother laughed trying not to spill her wine from her cracked lips.

'It is no trouble Mother; we do not see you as often as we should. I cannot remember the last time we visited and spent time together as a family.'

Mother nodded her head in agreeance as she took a bite from her crust of bread before dipping it into the pool of green soup.

'I had a look in your study Mother. Have you always had those statues?' I asked.

Mother's eyes pinged, lifting her head she wiped her mouth.

'They are my treasures dear- you do not remember them, but they used to be all around this house when you were young. You used to love them and talk to them and play- Oh! You used to spend hours next to one in particular-The Pharaoh.' She chuckled. Alice too chuckled at the thought of my younger self prancing around the statues. Mother re-enacted dancing and waving her hands around and shaking her hips. Alice burst out laughing losing her food that was once in her hands falling on the table.

'Oh! I miss those days' mother stopped taking a few deep breathes as she attempted to catch it. 'If only your father were alive, he would have loved it.' Giving a cracked smile she took hold of my hand with a tight squeeze.

Squeezing back with a smile mother started to get teary. Holding her hand up towards my lips I give a light peck. Mother's smile returned wider than before. Raising her arm up she waves over to Suzanne. Walking over with book in hand she lowers it down towards the table before stepping back. Sitting lightly on top of the book was a small steel frame. Braided with intricate embellishments, the frame held a small black and white photograph of a young woman. Mother continued to smile and chuckle as she raised the framed photograph towards her, peering into it intently. Slowly she placed it in my hand.

'Oh, to be young again' she sighed.

Looking down at the photograph I studied the woman in the picture. Slightly torn at the sides and a crease down the middle from where it was folded sometime a go, in between the smudged and heavily stained stood proudly a young woman with beautiful long hair and eyes. With a big smile she looked towards the camera, covered head-to-toe in dirt, as she held a book in hand. Looking closely at the photograph I noticed something familiar, could this be…

'Is this you Ma'?' I gasped.

'Surely you have not forgotten what I looked like. I had not met your father yet but that was the time when I was in Egypt with your grandfather on the journey to discovering the hidden tombs. It was not long after this photo was taken that I went… I mean when I met your father.' She cleared her throat.

Alice looked on in amazement and the photograph and at the old crumbling book that sat between herself and mother.

'Might I ask mother; how did you meet your husband- Aten's father?' She asked excited.

Mother sat back in her chair and took a swig of wine, cradling the glass in-between her hands.

'See that journal my dear Alice?' She asked enticing her, 'That journal has every day I was in Egypt, every day that I was there I wrote about my journey, my life, my love, my father, Thomas, how I got there and how I got back- even a few things about dear Aten' she teased.

Alice's grin grew wider.

'Oh mother! Please read it, please' She begged.

Looking on at the show mother was grinning cunningly watching on at Alice begging for any ounce of mother's love story between her and my father.

'I will not read it as I cannot honestly read my own handwriting anymore.' She said proudly grinning.

And before Alice could say any more in the slightest, Mother took hold of my arm and tugged-

'Aten dearest, could you read my old journal?' She begged; eyes teared as though she were begging for mercy.

Knowing my own Mother, she was cunning and witty with her words and ways, she would tell me stories about how she would easily per sway her pursuers and merchants when she was young. She would say being a woman was rough in a world ruled by men. You had to be on your toes and outwit, outplay, and outlast them. She would laugh with a serious look on her face. 'I used to wish I were a man you see' she would say, 'Then I realised something dear Aten, Men aren't the smartest race here- US women are!' clicking her tongue and putting her hands on her hips with a grin.

Looking at her as she plays the innocence, I think about all the times she used to do this when I was a child and how, even now I would give in to her.

With a big sigh I smile back.

'Okay Mother if you insist- '

Before I could open the cover, Mother slammed her hand on the book, with a cackle she laughed loudly with a big grin.

'How can I trust you Aten, dear? I may be gaunt skeleton with crinkly skin in my old age, but I still have my wits about me. Tell me my dear son, will you truly believe me and my stories once you read my journal? Or will you be just like that poor excuse of a man that you call father and leave me with but a pound to my name and my name nothing but a whisper in the wind.' Her voice gasped as she clenched onto her chest as though her once supple sweet voice and been crushed tight.

A tear slowly fell down her cheek as her eyes squeezed shut.

'Mother- 'I whispered 'I will not be like that ever again; you know you can trust me whole heartedly. I owe you so much, yet I only have so little. It kills me seeing you like this. I promise I will read your story, even when you are gone, I will always read your story, I believe you- '

Alice came closer towards Mother and I, wrapping her arm around her shoulders and giving a little peck on the cheek.

'We both will be.' She whispered.

Squeezing our hands back she gave a little smile.

Suddenly the door opened, and Suzanne appeared in the room. Smiling as always, she waited for Mother to lift her head to acknowledge her presence. As if she knew why Suzanne was there, she wiped her face and sat straight in the chair before slowly getting up, clenching tightly on her cane.

'It seems that it is time for bed, I will take my leave for the evening, till tomorrow. Goodnight my children.' She waved, blowing a kiss as she slowly left the room, guided by Suzanne. Suzanne quickly bowed before continuing to guide mother out into the corridor.

Placing the book down onto the table I lean back into the chair with a sigh. Alice wipes her face with a handkerchief and pulls off her cotton gloves to place them in her lap.

'What a day' Alice sighed.

'Indeed' I replied. Getting up I walk over towards the window looking out to the distance, thinking to myself I cross my arms and lean against the windowsill. Alice slowly lifts herself out of the chair and waddles herself over to place her hand onto my shoulder. Peering over I look into her blue eyes.

'It will be alright my dear, we will get through this-together. You, me, Johnathan- and our baby.,' she said putting my hand onto her belly with a smile.

Feeling her presence, her warmth and love I felt emotion overcome me and suddenly tears begun to roll down my face. Wrapping her arms around my neck she held me towards her, squeezing softly. Collapsing down to my knees, she followed, laying my head down into her bosom as my tears continued to flow, her arms holding me tenderly.

'What am I to do when she is dead?' I cried.

'We must live on- 'she replied holding back tears as she choked back- 'We must remember her the way she wants to be remembered- the way you remember her- and never forget she loves you'

Holding onto her arms, I squeezed her before pulling back to sit down on the floor. Wiping my face with the handkerchief pulled from my pocket I wipe my face, clearing my throat I comb my hair back into place with my fingers, to tidy myself. Alice still kneeling towards me she reaches out for my hand and holds tightly.

'Will you be alright my love' She asked whispering.

Nodding my head in response I give a cracked smile, holding back choaking tears.

Helping Alice up from her chair, she slowly waddles out of the room and into the corridor towards the nearby bedroom. I watch closing the door behind, feeling grateful that she has come with me thus far in her condition. I look around the room now, still holding my glass and swirling the contents.

 I am alone.

Pouring whiskey back into the glass, I carry the bottle to a nearby chair.

Memories began pouring in as I sat, studying the nearby fireplace, the bear rug that lay under my feet, that musk smell coming from the books on the bookshelf standing in the darkened corner. And how the chandelier overhung looked like it belonged in a museum of the 18th century.

Mother was always collecting, since I was a child she collected- more like hording all she could find that reminded her of the old. Sometimes I thought she had gone mad chasing the past, chasing memories that you could never manage or replay again like a tape that you could never rewind.

Taking another mouthful, feeling the addictive sensation warming my throat, I continue to look around the room.

As if they appeared from magic, three statues covered in a thin layer of cotton sheet stood. The light flickering from the light above, showing small features. Walking over towards them I laugh.

'What the hack are these? They weren't there before..' Looking back over at the bottle, noticing its contents disappeared.

I must be delirious.

I let out a little giggle before taking another mouthful, feeling my body sway like a long voyage on the fisherman's tug boat.

'Is she telling me that she is some queen from a far away land or something?' I snort.

'Does this make me a prince!?'

I started to ramble and slur at the nearby statue before fixating on the statue's headdress and jewels.

Waiting to see if the statue would move, I stared the eyes down with a squint before jerking my head back with a laugh.

'I don't know why I bother talking to you, you're just a statue, its not like you understand.'

Suddenly the book slammed onto the floor and opened, flickering its pages quickly as it lay opened on the floor.

Glancing at the book I feel myself sway. Pushing the glass to my lips forcefully, I tilt my head back, gurgling back every last drop before dropping the glass with a thud on the floor.

Stumbling over towards the book, I lean over to pick it up, finding myself topple over onto the floor beside the book. Laying on my side I reach over and pull the book towards me.

 'Well-well-well...What do we have here. My mother's journal… you want me to read you do you?' I laugh with a hick-up.

Stumbling and crawling, I manage to push myself off the floor and onto the chair. Sitting down I place the bottle down onto the table, staring at it intently as I notice what was once full now empty.

Holding the book, I open it slowly, studying the cover and the page.

Looking up once more at the statue and back at the book I let out a sigh-

'well- A few pages won't hurt right?'

Opening the first page I start to read-