Very Short Stories

Ghost

Slowly, she opens her eyes and looks around, blinking her eyes rapidly to clear up her vision. Someone mumbles her name softly.

“…Lily…”

Lily whirls around to see her four-year-old sister clutching the blankets tightly, eyes screwed shut. She readjusts the blankets and then kisses her forehead lightly. “It’s okay, Nessie,” she whispers. “You're okay. I'm right here.” Oddly, Nessie swats her away.

Lily leaves her there, unsure of what to do. Maybe it’s just a bad dream. She walks down the stairs, calling for mother. After calling for the second time she stops, hearing quiet sobs coming from the kitchen. She rushes down.

There stands her mother over a pile of unwashed dishes, weeping to herself. “Oh, Lily,” she mutters.

“What?”

“Oh, Lily…”

“Mom, I'm right here.”

“Lily…”

“What is it, mom?” Lily rests her hand on her mother’s shoulder. Never before has she had to watch her own mother break down in front of her. It seems weird to her, actually. Her mother turns, looking, not at her, but straight through her, tears running down her face.

“Why did you have to die?”