Stone-cold

My mom was seated on the floor, her fair skin reddened, her face expressionless and her demeanor, cold. 

It had been a long time since I had seen her like that.

Last I remember, she was like this a few years ago when my father laid a hand on her for the last time. 

I don't remember the details clearly but I would never be able to forget the way she looked at that time. 

Her expression this time mirrored the way she was then. 

It was almost eerie. 

I approached her tentatively, the way an adventurer or zookeeper would approach a sleeping lion. 

"Mommy?" I said shakily, settling down beside her.

My dad's aunt and his stepmother were still there at her other side, mumbling incoherently and shaking their heads.

"You left," She said in a cold and monotonous voice that sent shivers up my spine.