My mom is a mess.

I've been dead for three days and it's hard to see her like this.
It's even harder to know that I'm the cause of it.

Mom works as a paralegal at one of the fancy neighborhoods in Lions Brooke.

Her law firm is so fancy that you can't even find a dustbin anywhere, because it's hidden in a drawer somewhere.

Back when I was alive, mom used to get all dolled up for work.
Hair, makeup, nails and outfits were the highlights of her week.

Today she doesn't even bother showering.
All she does is brush her hair and apply minimal mascara.

"Don't go into work, Cassandra." Dad tells mom over breakfast.
Dad looks like a ghost.
His skin is pale and he carries purple circles under his eyes.

Mondays are cereal days in the De Wet household.
I don't remember what my favorite cereal was.

"I have to keep moving, Jason." Mom sighs as she stirs her spoon around in her bowl mindlessly.
She isn't even eating.

Caroline stumbles down the stairs in her pajamas.
The worn down and torn apart Hello Kitty romper that she's owned and worn for years.

"I miss Violet." She says, bursting into an uncontrollable fountain of tears.

I miss Caroline.

Even though I'm here with her, it's not the same as being alive.
I'm starting to forget certain parts of my existence.

I've forgotten what my favorite perfume is and what it smells like.

I've forgotten what sunshine feels like on my skin.

I've forgotten what my killer's face looks like.
I thought I would remember him forever.
He was my beloved.

Mom cries all day at work.
She sits at her desk and discreetly wipes tears away from her eyes.
She lets her auburn hair fall down around her face.
A curtain to shield her despair.

I'm starting to forget what my mom smelt like.

She cries her mascara off in a bathroom stall during her lunch hour.

If I could turn back the clock, I would have stayed home on Saturday night.

Dad cooks dinner tonight, because mom is drained.
Spaghetti and meatballs.
Apparently that was my favorite.
I don't remember it entirely, but I feel excited so it must be true.

Mom hardly eats during dinner.

Dad stares at his empty plate.

Caroline eats like an animal.
I'd like to think that she's eating for two, herself and myself.

After dinner, mom gets into her bed fully clothed and sobs hysterically.
The kind of sobbing you would expect from a little kid.
I sit next to her and watch.

I wish she could see me.
I wish I could reach out and touch her.
Pat her on the back or something.
Any form of human contact would be nice.