Prompt - Mother's Day

((Beware, I wrote this at about 1:00-2:00 in the morning xD))

One may ask, how did he find out that his mother was coming back to life for only four hours in one day and had twenty four hours to prepare for her coming to the manor? Well, that's quite simple really. Erik had a dream. He had a dream that his mother had come down from the heavens to the earth and had told him that she had been promised that for one day only, in fact, four hours, she would be able to stay on the earth and spend some time with her son before returning to the heavens. Now, one may wonder, why would he make preparations for his dead mother to come, when he got the vision from a dream. Well... if your a man like Erik whose mother was incredible and already angel like, died when you were about three, then about thirty years later, were promised that you were able to see her again for a small amount of time, you would put some effort forth, even if it really wouldn't happen.

Erik knew just what he would do! Throw a surprise....ingly great mothers day. Okay so it wasn't exactly a surprise and he didn't exactly know that it was mother's day. After all, when he arrived at the manor, things such as time and place had changed quite a bit! So he didn't quite know what month, day, year he was in. ((Still doesn't.)) But now that he had that strange but wonderful dream, of course he had to get started on preparations in the real world! If this place he was in- in fact -the real world. When he woke up from the dream, he imitatively jumped out of bed, he nearly forgot his mask before leaving his bedroom in his lair. He didn't clean himself up quite yet since he would be cleaning up his lair a bit. Was it strange for him to be making preparations for his death mother to visit him? Yes, that sounded extremely silly and unreal but if it did happen... well... he definitely wouldn't want to disappoint his mother!

Luckily, Christine was still sound asleep. Oh what could he start on? When exactly would his mother be arriving? Will Christine be able to meet her? And why had his mother been given so little time to stay down here? Well no matter, any time was better than no time to see his wonderful, sweet and kind mother again. Oh he would have so much to tell her! And she would be able to speak to him and answer an questions Erik had. But he also wouldn't have that conversation last to long, for there was so much more he would like to do with his mother! And oh, he knew that some of that time would be spent on singing. Oh he would be able to listen to her voice forever, same as Christine. But he would not take up all of the time listening to his mother sing, as much as he would like to. He would show her how he had improved greatly in his own singing since he was just a very small child and how he had gotten quite the talent to play the flute.

Only four hours. Oh he would have really rather it be switched and it be the twenty four hours with his mother and the four hours preparing. Oh he really hoped this was real... his mother coming to visit. What if she wasn't though? Suppose his cleaning and efforts of looking nice would be nice for Christine but still, if only his mother really was coming. And perhaps she was which was why he must make an effort! So as his dear Christine continued to sleep, he started away on cleaning up his lair. This made him much happier that he hadn't gone on that rampage after Christine had fainted, it would have been extremely hard to clean up that whole mess. Really, the only mess he had to clean up was the mirror that he had broken to release a bit of his anger out after Christine had fainted and he had thought that she had no longer loved him. Which was now not a problem and he would definitely be speaking about that event to his mother when she comes.

Erik began by dusting things off. Well... there was quite a lot of things here but still. And as he went, he kind organized a few things, most other things were already in places that he liked them to be in very much. Then there was nothing he could really do about the lake... after all... there wasn't anything anyone could quite do to a lagoon under the opera house where no one was allowed to go. Then again, he wasn't under the opera house any more, he was in a replica of his home. But still. After he had gotten most everything in pretty good shape, he went into his room and went back to bed to take a bit of a nap. By that time, Christine had gotten out of bed and had gone up to wander about and probably get something to eat from the kitchen. By the time Erik had woken up, he found a breakfast waiting for him at his desk. Though by now, it could have been quite possibly brunch or lunch. Erik happily ate it and started to get back to work on getting everything ready for his mamma.

Erik continued to clean up the lair. By the time he had become fairly content of how his lair looked, he probably had about eleven hours left. So, he took another nap, really he didn't need to nap again but he was dirty and cleaning up all of that did take quite a bit of effort and he didn't want to be tired when his mother was around. So he took about a four hour nap, which was a longer nap then he had really intended to sleep for and got up and got dressed. This time, he cleaned himself up more appropriately. He wondered where she would appear, in his lair would be most appropriate he would think, though suppose there was a possibility of her showing up somewhere else in the manor. And Erik would for sure like Christine to meet his mother. By now, Christine hopefully was back in Erik's domain. He sat there in his room, hoping that his mother would arrive soon, and he couldn't wait to be able to get started on those small, but extremely precious four hours that he may get to be with his mother, before never seeing her again.

Erik had decided to talk a walk in the garden. It was a lovely day, but rather cool and windy, even though the sun was shining brightly. For that reason he donned his opera cape and fedora. He wanted to get away from the people in the mansion. All they were talking about for the past week was something called a Day for Mothers. Or something of the sort. He didn’t want to think about mothers, his own or anyone else. He was looking at the flowers that one of the Christines had planted. The gardens were looking considerably better than when he had first arrived. The women had quite the touch for making things grow. There were spring flowers blooming: daffodils, bleeding hearts and the lilacs lent a lovely fragrance wherever he walked in the gardens. Then he made a turn to a part of the garden that appeared to be different from the last time he had been there. Or…perhaps he had been mistaken…had he really been here before? It was a graveyard…

Erik frowned. It was not kept up very well. Some of the stones and crosses were a bit askew. He stopped in front of one of them. Someone who had died in 1830. That was before his own birth. He glanced at the dates without much interest. It was indeed an old graveyard and he was surprised he hadn’t seen it before. Dates of death, 1820, 1856, 1808, 1815…Something pulled his eye back to the gravestone with the date of 1856…born in 1813…It was for a Melisande Moreau….he realized with a shock that was his mother…and her date of birth was correct…the date of death was listed as 1856…why that was only a few years after he had left home, never to return…

He stepped up close to the tombstone to get a better look. It must be a mistake. Of course it was…and then he heard the rustling of satin skirts. He turned, and standing there behind him was a small red-haired woman dressed in a hoop skirt. Her dress was green silk and she wore a matching bonnet on her head. His eyes opened wide and he stood for a moment in shock. Finally he found his voice.

“Mother,” Erik said, curtly.

“Erik,” his mother answered. “It’s been a long time. A long time indeed.”

Erik frowned. Of all people in the world, he had no wish to see his mother. “What’s the gravestone all about then, Mother?”

“I am dead, Erik.”

“So it would seem.” Erik closed his eyes a moment. This was another of the mansion’s strange time anomalies. Perhaps she wasn’t really there. He could only hope. “The date is correct? You died shortly after I left? What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. You weren’t there, Erik.”

“I wasn’t there because you hated me! You treated me worse than a servant! I never got a kiss or a hug or even as much as a pat on the head!” Erik was angry now. “I left home because I couldn’t take it anymore!”

“Don’t get yourself upset, Erik. It’s all in the past.”

“Indeed! All in the past! So you can absolve yourself of all your neglect of me that easily?” Erik was pacing now, the wind picking up the ends of his cape.

“Erik, stop that! You always were a headstrong child. Intelligent, but headstrong. You demanded your own way…”

“I’m not a child any more,” said Erik, angrily turning to his mother.

“Indeed.” Melisande looked him over from his head to his feet. An ironic smile played about her lips. “Well, you’ve grown taller…I dare say you haven’t improved in looks and obviously not in demeanour… “

Melisande reached up to touch the shoulder of his cape which was studded with rhinestones and embroidery. “You dress well,” she commented. He backed away from her touch. What have you been doing all these years, Erik?”

“I’ve become an architect, Mother,” said Erik with a bit of pride. “I designed many fine buildings, including the Opéra Populaire in Paris. I am a composer of music…” He found himself wanting to impress her….to get that one small compliment from her, that one virtual pat on the back, saying You’ve done well, son, I approve…

But all she said was,”I might have expected that. You were always interested in architecture and music as a child.”

“Mother, what do you want from me?” said Erik sharply. “Why have you come back to torture me? I thought that had all ended when I left home…”

She turned away from him. “Not really, Erik. I thought I would be able to rest in peace if I saw you again…but I see that you’ve grown to be a bitter, unhappy man. I never could stand the sight of your face…”

“Mother, what the hell does my face have to do with anything? I didn’t ask to be born ugly?” Tell me …who was my father? You never said a word about that…

“You were the physical representation of my sin, Erik. I was married but had a short affair with a young man who swept me off my feet, not like my husband who was older and stern. When I was found to be with child, my young lover left me abruptly. Shortly thereafter my husband died, never knowing my unborn child was not his. When I first saw you, I felt you were ugly because of my sin. I hated you from that minute on. When I beat you, I was beating myself for having done such a thing and brought a horrid thing like you into the world.”

Erik had stood before her in shock and now he sat on the stone bench and put his head in his hands. “So I would never have been able to please you then, Mother, no matter what I did. All you saw was my face…”

“I could see that you were very intelligent, Erik…perhaps so much so that it frightened me. I was frankly relieved when you left home of your own accord. But then an odd thing happened…I began to miss you…I searched for you for several years, until I was overcome with consumption, which finally took me a year later.”

“It was a little too late by that time, Mother. If you would not have disparaged me and treated me so, I would not have left home.” Erik gave her an angry glance and left the graveyard, walking through the gardens hurriedly, his cape flowing behind him. He entered the mansion, took the lift and descended to his lair. Crossing the hanging bridges, taking the gondola across the lake, and stepping out upon the shores of the catacombs he called home, Erik was in a bitter and black mood. Why had she come to torture him? Why couldn’t he have had a loving mother like most of the other people here in the mansion. For the first time, he found himself envying those who had had a loving mother.

Erik sat down at a table, draped with a lace tablecloth that he had bought some months ago, thinking he was going to wed Christine and wanting to make the place more comfortable for her. He started looking through some of his handwritten music, flipping through page after page to find something to play on the organ, something to take his mind off of his mother. He was irritated and angry and unable to concentrate. He threw the music back down on the table and looked up, suddenly startled by the sight of his mother again.

He stood. “How did you get here?”

She smiled coquettishly. “I’m a ghost, remember, Erik? I thought you were so intelligent…”

“This is my home, Mother…how dare you invade it?”

“How dare I, Erik, how dare I? I’m your mother.

“And that gives you the right to invade my privacy?”

“Perhaps not, but I have something to say to you.”

“Then will you leave me alone?”

“Yes, Erik, I promise,” said Melisande.

“Well, then bloody out with it!”

“Erik you should watch your mouth…it’s rude to swear in front of women, especially your mother…

Melisande smiled urbanely at Erik. She was irritating him, and it looked as if it was done on purpose.

“Are you going to tell me what you came here for or not?” said Erik, in a dangerously quiet voice.

“All right then. Erik…I’m ….sorry. I’m sorry I made your life so miserable. I should have forgotten that you were the product of my sin and treated you as any other child. But your looks…your terrible face…I couldn’t bear it. Every glance upon you was as if I was hearing a voice from above say, Your soul is indeed uglier than his face…”

Erik sank down in his chair again and closed his eyes momentarily, rubbing his left temple as a slight headache over took him. He was strangely feeling pity for his mother. He had never known any of this and it was eye-opening to see things from her point of view. Erik was still. Of course it didn’t absolve his mother of all wrongdoing of the past. And yet…

Erik looked over at his mother. “Mother, sit down,” he said a bit more gently. “Is there anything I can bring you…tea, coffee, anything to eat?”

“Erik, dear, I’m a spectre. I don’t require any food or drink. However, I can do it even though I do not require nourishment. So …all right.”

He nodded and came back with the tea pot, cups and saucers and some treats that one of the Christines had given him.

“So what are these, Erik?” asked Melisande, after having taken a bite of one of the treats.

“It’s a Swedish pastry, Mother. Quite good. Given to me in thanks …” Erik didn’t want to get into the whole story, so he left it at that. But his mother wished to know.

“Oh? In thanks for what? What did you do, Erik?”

“I saved her life…and that of her fiancé…his twice actually…”

“Well, I’m impressed, Erik. Why did you do that?”

“How the hell do I know? It seemed the thing to do at the time…”

“Watch your language, Erik…” Melisande looked at her son again. “Take off the mask, Erik.”

“What? Why? You know what I look like…”

“Just do it.”

Erik removed his mask, wondering what this was all about. Melisande gazed on his naked, scarred and misshapen face for a moment, then came around the other side of the table and sat next to him. She traced her fingers across his right face. He let her do it, not flinching, still wondering what was in her mind.

Then Melisande kissed him, upon his right cheek. She hugged him and he could hardly believe it. He heard her murmur, “I should have done that long ago, when you were a child…” Erik put his arms out to hold her and he felt her, warm and corporeal. As he was holding her, suddenly she became mist as off of the lake and vanished completely.

The clock struck and he realized that it had been four hours that his mother had been there. He was left with a strange feeling of confusion, but more than that…a feeling of love for his mother that he had never felt before. The blackness lifted from his spirit and he could think about her without pain.

Then he realized he actually missed her…after all these years…he missed her.

[Please Note: I did not write this exactly as listed in the prompt instructions; they asked for what preparations would your character make if they were preparing for a 4 hour visit of their mother. I did not think that Erik would even want to see her so he would make no preparations. If this does not meet the criteria for euros, that’s fine, I still wanted to write it this way as it made more sense to me.- Rachel]

Jack sat on a bench, everything was silent, the sky was clean and the sun shone in this afternoon, today was a special day… it was a very emotional day for him… Mother's day.

He looked up at the sky, he focused on the birds singing, and all the calming sounds in the forest, the wind blowing, agitating the trees, all the tiny, and not so tiny animals, running around. He smiled slightly. Memories started to flow on his mind…

"Flashback"

A group of boys played in the woods, happily, laughing and smiling. Some hiding behind bushes, others climbing the trees. Jack, a little brave adventurer, was hidden up in a tree. He watched his friends, who were now being called "the enemy", silently.

Moving like an agile panther from branch to branch, nearly not making a sound, he prepared and positioned himself right above the leader of the enemies group. With his wood sword in hand and a little pot in head as a helmet, he jumped on him, and pointed his sword to his chest with pride.

"Surrender, and admit we are better, or die!" Jack said proudly. The kid under him pulled his own sword and point it to Jack's chest.

"I shall never surrender!" Jack smirked and rose his sword, backing away from him in a defensive move.

"Then we shall fight till one of us die!"

The boy got up and they started dueling with their swords, and they would have continue if it wasn't for loud and authoritative voices, calling for them.

"Jack Darker! Come here this instant." Said one of them, making Jack stopping immediately.

"Francisco you too! It's time for dinner." said the other one.

The boys looked at each other and sighed, they both shook hands like brave knights after a friendly battle, and run to their mothers.

Jack smiled and run to his mother side. "Mama!" He hugged her waist happily.

"Now, my little warrior, look at you. You're a mess! What did I told you about being careful with yourself?" She said gently and started wiping away the dirt he had in his face. He looked at her innocently.

"But mama, they dared me to it! I couldn't say no, I would lose my title of brave warrior." His mother smiled and pat his head.

"You will always be a brave warrior, like your father. But for that, you have to feed yourself , to grow strong and be able to defeat the bad guys. Now come, time for dinner " She winked at him and took him home by the hand.

Jack went home happily, when he arrived his mother told him to take a bath and dress in to his pajamas, and so he did. After bathing and dressing he came to the kitchen where a very tasty dinner waited for him. His father was already on the table, he smiled gently at him.

"I heard you were nominated as a brave warrior. Very good." He patted him on the head gently.

"I was! And mama says I'm going to be a very good warrior and very strong like you!"

His mother placed the plates on the table and smiled at them. She kissed them both on the cheek. "My two handsome strong men. Time to eat now." Jack smiled at her and kissed her cheek.

They had a nice dinner, they chat about their days and Jack told them all about his adventures. After dinner, his mother sent him to sleep, and tucked him in bed, as she always did.

"Would you like a story today?" She asked. And he of course, nodded.

"Can you tell me a story about pirates?"

"Of course. Once upon a time, there was a pirate named Jack." She smiled and poked his nose. "Captain Jack was a very brave and strong pirate. He had his ship, the Black Pearl, and then he had all of his faithful men…" The story went on, and not much later, Jack was yawning. His mother, rose up and caressed his cheek. "Good night my beautiful pirate." Jack smiles and grabbed her hand, studying it for a second.

"Mama, when I become a strong brave warrior.. will you still tuck me in at night and tell me stories like you do now?" Jack looked at her hand, playing with her fingers.

"Of course Jack, I will be there as long as you need me. Now sleep, tomorrow is another day and you can go outside and play with your friends again."

Jack smiled and fell asleep peacefully. Knowing that what his mama had said were true and that he could always count on her.

"End of Flashback"

Jack smiled widely, looking at the sky. He missed her so much… When she died, it hurt him very much, but then, he was already a strong man. And now, he was strong and wise. He smiled and placed a photo of her in a rock surrounded by flowers.

"I'm a strong warrior now mama… my time on earth seemed to have prolonged itself… I miss you so much… I wish that one day I will be able to finally join you.

Jack smiled and went to the place where he had been passing his nights in. And that night, as he slept, he received her visit. She seemed so real… She was exactly as he remembered her.

"Mama… I miss you." He hugged her, and she hold him.

"Oh my handsome little man… look at you, you are all grown up now…" She cried a little, and smiled at him. "You are not little anymore, and yet, here I am, I couldn't break a promise I made you. What kind of mother would do that?"

Jack smiled and hugged her tightly. They talked all night, and then, as the morning came, Jack smiled widely. For even if she wasn't there, she would always live in his heart. And he would never forget her.

"Happy day mama…"

It was a beautiful morning as the sun's golden rays cast through the thickened fog that blanketed the estate of the Manor. The misty dew kissing all that it surrounded. What a lovely morning it was indeed. A good night's rest was much needed to wash from me those torments of the days before. Starting fresh anew was what God had blessed us with no doubt.

There I sat at the vanity but only a few paces from my bed. Picking up the pink enameled silver fine brush I then began to gently brush my long hair with great care. As always I began to hum. I often found myself doing that. It was no wonder as every time I brushed my hair and hummed this always reminds me of you, Mother. I do so miss you. What little memories I have of you, dear Mother, I cling to and pray that I will never lose them. For I've been told that memories fade with age. If ever I would lose those memories... oh, I would not know what I would do other than be sad.

Yes, dear Mother. I remember you brushing my hair when I was very young. All the while you hummed. It was lovely and calm. What daughter would not like their hair brushed so lovingly by their beloved mother? This is perhaps the most dearest of all my memories of you, Mother. I recall the sensation as that bone fine brush ran through my then little ringlets of brown. Your fingers gently gathered and held those precious locks as you called them. And of course, how could I not smile upon those few times you tickled me to cheer me up or got me to hum along with you. Always you fussed over me. I never truly knew why until I was older. Even now I cherish the thought and pray that someday I shall share such a treasured moment with a daughter of my own. To pass along such a wonderful tradition.

But this is not the only memory I have of you, Mother. Oh, no! For I remember, oh so barely, a day in the sun. Perhaps in a garden or a park. You nearby as I played. You even played with me, chasing me around the bushes as though like in a maze. Oh, what fun that was! I giggled like a silly goose and ran trying not to let you catch me. But when you did, when I ran right into your arms blindly from rounding a tall hedge. I giggled so loudly with such glee that only a happy child could ever possess. How could I forget that, dear Mother.

Not all my memories of you are bright and joyful. Alas, no. For the last memory I have of you was when I was so young. I don't recall if the day was bright or dismal. My mind has made that day so gray and somber. I darkly dressed clinging to Father at your grave. I did not understand then what had become of you. Pappa said you were taking a very long sleep but would never wake again. Yes, I did not understand. And for some time, dear Mamma, I was so lost. I did not want to brush my hair in hopes you would do that. But never did you bestow me another tender moment. It was so unfair that you were taken from me when I was so young. I miss you so much, dear Mother.

As I set the brush down to look into the mirror. I also see you there as well, Mother. Not just beside me, but as I have become you. I look much like you, Mamma. Just as I look much like Pappa. I can only smile warmly with what memories you both have left me. Though I miss you both, I shall indeed remember you both always.
I think of you, dear Mamma, on this a day of honor and remembrance of Mothers.