Ghosts tell stories

I wake up suddenly from the screams I hear from downstairs, I jump out of the bed and run. As I open the door to the bathroom I see my mom, sitting on the floor, she is covering her mouth with her left hand, and blood is pouring through her fingers. I look on the floor, maybe I can see something that helps me figure out what happened. Next to the laundry basket, I see what I believe it’s her tongue, cut out and thrown on the floor. I rush to my room, take my phone and call an ambulance.

***

I am calling my father non-stop since the incident but he is not answering. My mom is sleeping, I am watching her from the uncomfortable chair next to her hospital bed. The doctors told me that her tongue was cut off, and that’s it.

Dad come after 3 hours, I was reading when the door opened and he came and hugged me.

“What happened? I was at work, my phone had no battery. Clarice told me she saw the ambulance picking up your mom.”

“Good thing our neighbour is more careful than you are,” I say closing the book. “Her tongue was cut off dad. Who would do such a thing?”

After some hours, she woke up, she touched her mouth and a few tears fall from her green eyes. She took her phone and typed something, he turned the phone so I can see.

“Thieves” I read out loud.

“They are going to catch those guys.” says dad holding her hand.

***

The next week was full of policemen searching our house. They found a thieves group that fitted mom’s description, but they didn’t confess yet. Also, about mom…she was always cleaning, crying in the bathroom late at night, always trying to keep herself busy. Dad helps her with everything, he quitted his job to stay home with her.

Everything is different now, my relationship with her was destroyed by this event. She only communicates with dad, and I only get a “Good morning” note on the fridge before I go to school.

It’s Monday, I open the door and throw the backpack on the floor.

“I’m home!”

I go directly in the kitchen because I’m starving. Mom’s hanging by the chandelier, with the beige rope around her now red neck, a few centimeters above the table, and a little chair on the ground.

I take the chair and jump on the table, I put the chair under her bare feet and try to unloose the rope. I hear her voice from behind me, I turn around and see her.

I feel my blood getting colder, she smiles and tells me to get down the table.

“Come here, quick.”

“You can talk again.”

“I guess this is my privilege as a ghost…I don’t have time, neither you do…”

“What do you mean?”

“Listen to me. Your dad cut my tongue, I found out some of his secrets, he told me he would kill you if I tell something. He has cameras all over the house, he also has access to my phone. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you killed yourself? Are you mad?”

I am so angry with her because she left me alone.

“It worked. Now leave, I sent him to but milk, he’ll be home soon.”

She disappears, and I’m full of questions, fear and confusion.

I take out my phone and headphones from my backpack, lay on my back and listen to music. Listening to music stops me from going crazy.

“What secrets?”

“Would he ever hurt me?”

“Should I listen to my dead mom and run away, or just stay?”

-BH

Leave a Reply