“Happy Mother’s Day,” Harlow said softly as she crouched to lay a small bouquet of flowers at her mother’s tombstone. Wanda Kane had lived to be eighty-nine years old, one of the lucky to make it so close to the end of the century she was born in. The seventh of eight children and one of four that survived well into adulthood; she married when she was twenty and had seven children of her own. Two would die before they were six. Harlow was born in 1926 as baby number four and the oldest girl.
She regretted not being able to tell her mother what had happened to her. It was especially painful because right next to her mother’s tombstone was a small plaque with Harlow’s name and the siblings that had also died before their mother. She’d lain flowers there as well. Her youngest sister and only surviving sibling, Inez was 86 now and the Alzheimer’s made her vulnerable. But Harlow took solace in being able to see her sister, even for a few minutes once a week when she was able. Her family was good to her, Harlow could see her mother in the oldest granddaughters face. They brushed off Inez talking to her sister Harlow, and occasionally her dead mother as misplaced memories.
The vampiress didn’t want to linger at the cemetery, the unnatural stillness disquieted her and she always had the feeling she was being watched by one of the silent shades that drifted through the headstones. With one last goodbye and a kiss pressed to the gravestone via her hand, she walked with decisive steps back to the entrance where her Rolls-Royce was parked and climbed in. Her mother would be proud of her and what she’d done with her life, really…despite the not actually dying thing…
As she looked down to arrange her things and put her seat belt on, a shoe whizzed through her head and the vampire turned in alarm to see the ghost of her mother sitting in the backseat cursing. The ghost didn’t look 89 at all, rather as Harlow would have known her before she died. “MAMA?!”
“YOU’RE ALIVE?! AND YOU MISSED CHRISTMAS?!” Wanda Kaine shrieked.
Another ghostly shoe flew through her forehead.
*Prompt generated from this list of 120 One Word Writing Prompts and the use of Google’s Random Number Generator. Number & Coordinated Theme Generated: 72 – Mother