"She was a very good woman." My neighbour, Mr Paul said.

I simply nodded without giving him a reply. I was feeling low. I worked as a maid in the house of Mrs Clinton. She was a very kind and soft woman with a big heart. Even in her 60s, she looked fresh as a daisy. Alas, that daisy was picked up by God.

I was very close to her. She used to call me "sweetheart" and made me feel like I was her daughter.

Her real daughter, Karen, was married to a man who lived out of town. After her wedding, she never came back, not even for a visit. Since then Mrs Clinton was living alone in her huge, mansion-like house.

I lived in the neighbouring house. I used to spend most of my time at her house, taking care of her. She was paying me too well.

After learning about the death of Mrs Clinton, I immediately called Karen and gave her the news.

I walked towards the coffin and stared at her face. It was glowing. As if, she was so happy. I smiled automatically, realising that she was resting in peace.

"Meredith!" I heard a voice which shook me out of my reflection.

I turned back and I saw a woman standing near the door. She was wearing a short, blue sleevless dress that was decorated with white floral embroidery at the top. Her black hair was scattered and reached her shoulder.

That was Karen.

She ran towards me and gave me a hug. Her hug was warm, but, I couldn't feel the sorrow from her heart. In fact, I felt like she hugged me out of happiness. It was strange but I decided to ignore this feeling. Sometimes, feelings are wrong.

She then walked towards the coffin and started crying.

"I'm sorry mother. I love you." She said as she sobbed. She covered her face with her hands.

After a few seconds, she turned to me.

"Meredith, I need to change. Do you have anything to lend me. I came here rushing, so I didn't get the time to pack." She said.

She was so fake. She didn't even look sad. She was crying a few seconds before and when she turned to me to ask for clothes, her eyes were dry. She had no tears and no sign of sorrow. All her grieve had disappeared.

I nodded and told her to follow me. We climbed upstairs and I led her into the room of Mrs Clinton. I opened her closet to search for a dress that would fit her daughter.

"How did this happen?" Karen asked.

I turned back and I was shocked to see that she had made herself comfortable on the bed of Mrs Clinton.

"Mrs Clinton never liked it when someone would sit on her bed." I said.

"I know, I know. But she is dead now, so, no worries." Karen replied as she smiled.

"What kind of daughter is she?" I wondered in my head.

I continued my work, but suddenly Karen came behind me and grabbed my arm. She squeezed my arm with all the strengths she had.

"I asked you a question." She said. She sounded bossy.

I stared at her. Anger filled my eyes. I wanted to yell at her but realising that it was my mother-like master's funeral, I stayed quiet.

"It was a natural death." I replied.

I finally took out a long black chiffon dress. I handed it over to Karen and I went downstairs to attend the funeral.
I didn't even look at her face. I felt disgusted.

After a few minutes, Karen finally came down. The dress hugged her body. As she approached, I noticed that her eyes were watery.

Fake tears again.

She stood next to the coffin and wiped her tears. She was so good at pretending.

What happened next still give me goosebumps when I think of it.

Suddenly, we heard a strange noise. The coffin of Mrs Clinton started to move. It was trembling. At first, I thought we will be having an earthquake, but then my mind was blown.

The body of Mrs Clinton sat up and had caught Karen by her dress.
Karen started to scream with fear. Panic disseminated through the house and people started to run away.

Mrs Clinton was looking different. Her face was wrinkled and her eyes were completely white. She had no pupils. She stared at Karen with a deadly look. The noise that we heard before was actually coming from Mrs Clinton's mouth. She was saying something with a grumpy voice. I felt a chill running down my spine.

Karen tried to get away from her grip but in vain.

I wanted to help her but my body felt numb so I stood still and watched the scene, not daring to move.

"This is my dress!" Mrs Clinton yelled as she tore the dress off from the body of Karen with only one hand. After she tore the dress, Karen was free from her grip. Having no clothes on her, she ran inside as fast as could.

Thankfully, all the guests were gone as they were terrified. Nobody saw Karen naked.

I looked at Mrs Clinton as tears fell down my cheeks. She looked at me too and I noticed that her face was returning to normal. Her wrinkles disappeared and her eyes were back to normal. She smiled at me. My heart danced with joy thinking that Mrs Clinton was back into life. However, she laid down into the coffin. I ran to her, but, she was gone. I touched her. There was no response.

My heart broke again to pieces. I sat down on the floor as tears flowed out of my eyes endlessly.

After a few minutes, Karen came down, wearing her previous dress. She ran out of the house, not even looking at me or the coffin. I was the only one left in the house. I wiped my tears and called the pastor to carry on with the funeral.

After 2 weeks, the lawyer of mrs Clinton visited me in my house. He handed to me the will papers of mrs Clinton. Tears ran down my cheeks as I read the papers. She had transferred all her property in my name.