Towards the Farthest Side: A Collection Of Sci-Fi Short Stories And Novelettes

"Abomination Part 8"

"You could have been put into a coma," Alison hypothesized while preparing for work one day. "And they've put someone else's dead body in that coffin. I mean how could you be alive, right?"

My daughter is making good points. "Still it doesn't explain why I am stuck looking like I am still in my 39," I told her. That's the only thought that bothered us.

I have spent a few days in my daughter's apartment, Alison was not bothered, in fact she insisted that I should stay with them, like she never wanted me out of her sights again. But Abigail is acting weird around me after she knew I was pronounced dead, was buried, and came back after ten years.

Abigail would always avoid eye contact with me and I could feel her becoming anxious whenever I tried to have a friendly chat with her.

Teens. They always get carried away by unchecked emotions. Maybe this darling kid has just watched too much zombie movie. I laugh at the thought, but also hoped that she doesn't get traumatized.

When Alison finally left for work, I am left alone with Abigail and while I am making lunch in the kitchen I noticed her scribbling something in the living room. I tried to check closer and saw her making a good pen sketch of me.

"That's beautiful," I remarked. Abigail was silent. She just smiled and nodded.

"That's me?" I ask her. She nodded again. "So sweet of you. You know when I was your age I do alot of sketching."

Abigail glanced up to me. "Really? Like some hobby?"

I shook my head. "A requirement," I told her smiling.

"Requirement for what?" She asked, this time curious.

"Well I thought engineering needs talent for drawing, I've mistaken engineering for architecture, so I kind of pushed my self to draw," I said grinning.

"Alison did said you're an engineer," Abigail said. "Back when you're still alive."

I nodded. I felt a sudden sadness to what Abigail said. For the record I could relate to her confusion. In reality death is opposite to life. If someone dies it's no longer alive, that's the logic of it. And I remembered back before my death that I tried my best to raise my children to be logical and do away with metaphysics. I kind of regret it now, because it seems that Abigail gives no room for miracles, and I could say what happened to me was a little bit of a miracle.

"Sorry Abi, I couldn't explain it either," I told her in a sudden change of tone.

"Engineering?"

"Engineering has been hard, yeah," I quipped. "What I mean is my death and resurrection, I know it's bothering you."

Abigail became silent. "To be honest, yeah. I am a bit bothered to have a dead person walking around my sister's apartment."

"That's what I thought," I said apologetically. "Can I show you something?"

Abigail was confused but reluctantly abided at what I did next. I reached for her hand and she tensed at my touch. I opened a few top buttons of my blouse and place her hand in the middle of my chest, her palm felt cold against my skin.

"Can you feel it?" I asked her longingly. Abigail nodded.

"Beating heart," she whispered. "That means you're alive."

"Exactly," I agreed. "My heart is still there, perhaps I am still your mum." I smiled. There's a longing feeling building up in me. It is hard to think that Philip is dead, but it is even hard to ponder that my younger daughter is here in front of me but refused to acknowledge me as her mother, doubting my existence.

"What do you think happened mum?" Abigail asked, and I admit my heart leaped at the word mum.

"I don't know either," I answered her.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Abigail asked, hinting suspicion in her tone.

"Of course it bothers me," I paused. "It's just not my priority. I am just happy to be with you girls again."

Abigail look at me, her eyes probing. "I really like the feeling of calling you my mum, I really do. But I tried calling Maybel my mum, and it turned out that it is hard for her to care for someone if they're not hers."

Damn. That hit hard. My daughters really have trust issues.

At least Alison trusts me because she recognized me, but her treatment of Mark last time shows that they're not really open to letting strangers in their life. After all that they experienced, I can't blame them, and I am a stranger to Abigail, she holds little memory about me, she was only six when I left her.

"The only fact I could guarantee you is that you girls belong to me," I told Abigail, trying to reassure her, swallowing the hurt I'm feeling and holding back the tears. Abigail just stared at me, her look suspicious as ever, then she retreated back to her sketching.

I just left the livingroom and went to sit on the kitchen.

This shit situation is hard, very hard.

Then I remembered what Alison said the first night I arrived here.

My last moments alive are in Santa Briga, and the place might hold the truth about me.

The urge to know what happened to me felt more important than before, like it's an obligation, like a fervent desire.

As a mother to Abigail, I should know.