Scary Stories

Denial

I got home from school. I dropped my bag on the floor after I entered and called out to my mother. She divorced Dad three years ago, so we live alone.

No reply.

Probably still sleeping. School was let out early today for reasons I cannot recall — my head hurts, I guess that's why. It's only 11:00am, also she's feeling ill.

I'm tired — slept late last night. I decide to sleep with my mom in her bedroom.

As I step into her bedroom, I see her lying there as expected. I notice the soup I brought for her yesterday is still there, cold and untouched. I sigh and take it to the kitchen, then return to the room.

As I snuggle beside my mother on the large bed, I feel her soft, pale skin brush against mine. I can't help but realise it's gotten much colder. Her hair looks thinner at her back, and she is still.

I can't sleep for long, though. I have some Psychology homework. We're doing this paper about some kind of weird mental disorder people have which causes them to live in denial of even some of the most obvious things. I can't even imagine living like that.