I open my dark hazel eyes and instantly recognize where I am. The heavy, stale air surrounds me as I find myself standing in the corner of the dimly lit house—the same one we visited earlier. The same house that once belonged to the woman who now lies dead. I stand next to the old, peeling floral wallpaper that’s seen better days, its faded colors and frayed edges whispering of memories long gone.
I can feel the weight of time pressing down on me. Everything around me feels so surreal, like I’m not truly here. I call out, my voice cracking in the silence.
“April! April, are you my mother?” I shout desperately, my voice echoing through the empty house. But my words fall into the vast emptiness, unanswered. No one hears me. No one responds. It’s like I’m watching some kind of twisted, haun
