The shady hooded man offered the objet delicately, as if it was moments from crumbling. Now I have a choice. Save my mother, or acquire the most beloved thing in the world. The Pine. The Pine has only been on earth for a couple of centuries, and compared to the other delicacies we’ve had, it is simply childlike, but I could not help but admire it’s ridged points. It resembles very much to a pinecone, and is the size of a a golf ball, but no one really knows of it’s true powers. Some say it heals, others say it defends. No matter, I have to have it. No matter what, I need the Pine. It’s mine. I could be closer to God with this! Screw the others. Screw a normal mortal life. Now I have power! Now..... I am a God. Now I can be whoever the hell I want to be! Without thinking, I swipe the charm from the ghostly mans hands and I feel like power is coursing through my veins! I just know I will be bigger, better, stronger with this!! Standing for a moment to let the power adjust in my mortal body, I gently place the Pine in my back pocket.

It seems like minutes later when I hear the clock strike midnight. I’m suddenly stunned to the idea it has been roughly 9 hours since my mother had officially perished. As the thought sinks in, I notice a subtle squeak of the door blocking me off from the rest of the world.

“Who’s there?” I call out roughly. “Who dares to walk in uninvited?” I demand once more. Just then I see the outline of a small, frail woman. Her long hair stringy and thin. There’s a bright light source coming from behind as the door swung open slowly, so it seems harder to see, but I’d recognize that silhouette anywhere. It’s my mother. That’s impossible though. She died. I killed her, I know I did. I knew she’d get in the way, but this? No. This isn’t her. It can’t be. I stabbed her straight through the chest with a spear!

“Lawrence.” Hearing my real name stunned me for a moment, but I’m drifted back to reality as her voice continues.

“You have done a dangerous thing, son.” Her rasp stronger than ever. Having that voice tell me I’m bad is what really hurts. No matter what.

“You are no son of mine, Lawrence.” She pauses to think before continuing.”My son isn’t this greedy. My son was loyal to his mother. You wanted me dead, did you not?” Hearing this hurts even more, making my drive to attack harder to push back. I begin running without control, and she quickly touches my cheek with her fragile hands. Instantly, we are brought back home. I’m a child again, sitting in the snow on our roof, talking innocent conversation about pineapples. “Hey mom?” I ask. “I love you.”

“I love you too, dear”