She knew it was a bad idea.
Roseanne had always been one to become attached too quickly. Too easily. And look at the hurt that previous attachment had caused her...
But she followed the woman anyways.
And now... here she was. A ghost, in love with...
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Roseanne's not too sure how much time had passed, but her bedroom has grown considerably darker since she had first arrived. The natural light that had been entering her room from outside her partially opened window was quickly dimming.
Her Mother, tired out from crying over the missing of her bright daughter, had fallen to sleep and was currently still that way on the bed beside the unannounced ghost. Roseanne not wanting to leave the mattress, watching her Mum's chest rise and fall with each breath the woman took.
She had ended up crying a little longer than her Mother had. Just watching the woman slowly cry herself to sleep had left her feeling so horrible. Like her dying was somehow her fault. And leaving her Mum, Pa, and sister Alice in this state was something she had caused.
Everything was.
As she was about to break down once more, her Mother awoke with a deep breath, and glanced around the room. Forgetting she had fallen asleep in her youngest's bed, and immediately feeling the throbbing of a headache coming on. She sat up and stretched, before placing a hand on her head. Squinting her eyes and rising, Clare walked over to the clock Roseanne kept on her dresser and read the time.
Rosie followed silently behind her Mum and slide off the bed as the woman exited the room and made her way down the hallway. She followed, watching as her Mother's eyes looked from one small cluttered pile of miscellaneous papers, to another even larger cluttered pile beyond.
The woman shook her head and made her way over to the table. Taking the clumps of newspapers in her hand and throwing them away, rather angrily. Tired of her mind needing closure. Tired of the way she couldn't just accept what had happened, and move on.
Roseanne furrowed her brows as she approached her Mum and looked down into the trash bin. Trying to read the crumpled pages that seemed too stressed and wrinkled to make out.
Her Mother then entered the kitchen and flipped on the lights. Heading to the pile of bowls and plates, selecting a few to bring over to the sink. Roseanne followed and stood beside her Mum as the petite woman began washing a plate in the now steaming liquid.
Her Mother hardly moved the sponge she was holding across the plate as she drew tight circles. "Mum, at this rate it's going to take you over an hour to finish washing one." She whispered carefully.
Trying to immerse herself into the scene before her. Forgetting about the brokenness for a little while longer. "I'm not kidding Mummy." She peeked her head around to the woman and frowned seeing the blank expression she had held once before, on her face again.
Her Mum shook her head briefly before scrubbing quickly at the plate. Bringing it out of the water and setting it down. Reaching for another when the sound of keys at the door startled them both. Roseanne and her Mother turned to face the main entry as her Father opened the door and looked to her Mum. An unreadable expression on his face.
