Unbelievable

UNBELIEVABLE

Waking from my sleep, I walked into the bathroom, seeing my husband sat
on the edge of the bath, head in hands - crying. 'You didn't have to
go.'

Gently touching him on the shoulder, I asked, 'What is the
matter?'

Seeing he did not look at me, I tapped him on the shoulder once more,
getting the same response. 'What is the matter?' I asked.

Hearing the children rise, I went into their room. 'Hello mam,' they
shouted in unison.

'What's the matter with dad?' I enquired.

They ran past me to their father.

Following them, I watched my husband as he held out his arms to greet
them. 'I have something to tell you.'

I heard nothing of their conversation, but when he had spoken to them
for a while, one of them said, 'No, she is there,' and pointed at me,
holding onto his father's grip.

I waved, but my husband looked past me.

'Come here,' he said once more to the children, pulling them as they
tried to release his grip on them.

Thinking he was asking me, I went to him. The children looked at me,
pulling free from their father. 'We love you mam,' they cried.

More interested to know what my husband had told them, I asked, 'What
is your father saying to you.

They left me unanswered.

Going to their room, my children cried on the bed. 'Why did he say
that?' I heard one ask the other.

'Mam has been pretty ill recently, and maybe he wishes she was.' The
one who spoke looked at me, rising from the bed and the other followed
suit.

Holding my hands, my son shook violently and felt cold as they pulled
me into the bathroom. 'Dad, she is here,' my son said, looking at
me.

'Bring her here,' my husband said upset.

Standing between the mirror and my husband, he said, 'Look in the
mirror son.'

Doing what was asked of him, he flinched from my grip, running from me.
'She must be,' I heard him cry as he opened the bedroom door.

'Mam,' my daughter shouted.

Listening to her, I went to their room.

'Come here,' she asked.

With me by the mirror, I saw her look past me into the mirror. Whatever
she saw, scared her. Looking from the mirror, she buried her head into
the pillow and cried hard.

Sitting on the bed, I tried comforting them, but they huddled each
other, rather then me.

Not wanting to upset them further, I went onto the landing and my
husband walked down the stairs, still crying. As I followed him, he
opened the kitchen door.

Surprised, I gasped. Was that me on the chair?

My husband went to the body, kneeling by it, kissing it on the arm. 'I
will miss you,' I heard him say.

Walking deeper into the room, I saw it was me on the chair. How was
that possible? Feeling a magnetism pull me, I was being drawn to the
chair. My gaze did not leave the corpse until I entered it.

I was now 'home' and knew what everything upstairs was about.