Wishes

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"Mom?"

I must be dreaming. This can't be real.

Oh, but how I wanted it to be.

"Aylin." She said again, a heart wrenchingly familiar smile lighting her face.
"How have you been?"

This isn't happening. It isn't real. It isn't real. It isn't r-

"Lady Nesryn?" Willow's shocked question had me snapping my head to him.

"You can see her too?" My eyes widened. "You know her?"

He nodded and frighteningly slow, I looked back to the translucent spectre of my long deceased mother.

This is impossible!

So I did the only thing that came into my mind at that time.
I screamed. Loudly.

"IT'S A GHOST! GET AWAY!"
I yelled, letting out another ear piercing scream causing them both to flinch while I jumped back, before holding up my pointer fingers in a cross.

"GO AWAY YOU DAMNED SOUL! I CONDEMN YOU BACK TO... um....." I trailed off for a second of thinking. "WHEREVER YOU CAME FROM!"

The ghost of my mother rolled her eyes.

"This is why I always told you to stop watching all those exorcist movies." She mumbled.

"You cannot deceive me. Begone!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think that's gonna work?"

"I will not concede to your-"

"Oh shut up already!"

My mouth clamped shut of its own accord. Even if this wasn't the ghost of my actual mom, it had the same tone and face of when she got angry at me and that was enough to scare the wits out of me.

She sighed loudly, rubbing the bridge of her nose, an action eerily similar to my mother.
"This was not how I expected this to go."

Willow chose that moment to step in, floating closer to the spectral form.

"Lady Nesryn... how are you here?"

"More importantly," I caught his attention. "How do you know my mother?"

"I didn't know she was your mother."

"Then-"

"I know her because, before you," he looked at me solemnly, "she was the chosen host."

For the second time in less than an hour, my world came crashing down.

"What?" I gasped out. "How is that- how can that be pos-"

"Aylin please." The topic of conversation cut in. "Let me explain."

I looked at her, biting my lip in contemplation before reluctantly, I nodded.

"But first," I spoke lowly, "I need to know one thing."

She inclined her head in return, and softly, hesitantly, I asked.

"Are you really my mom?"

Time seemed to be suspended as soon as the question left my lips.
Then, she grinned, the expression tugging on my heart strings as her eyes teared up and she nodded.

I didn't even know I had moved forward until I was suddenly in her arms, sobbing and choking and trembling, all the emotions I'd learned to shove away coming back to hit me full force.
And in that moment, I became a little girl again, seeking the embrace of the parent I'd lost and thought I'd never get back.

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