Chapter 3
Let me tell you about how I spent those undead days before your death, mother.
As you might remember, I died before you did. A mother who had to outlive her own child and husband, a true tragedy the Daily Prophet worthy. (Be honest, mother, did you bribe them? People die everyday in war, and I surely wasn't the most noticeable dead that day.) I even recall seeing you cry at my funeral, which was quite the surprise and weirdly heartwarming as well, mother. It really was.
It was the first time I saw you cry, but it surely wasn't the last time.
Yes mother, I spent my entire afterlife ghost-stalking you. Can you blame me? What else am I supposed to do? I ain't ghosting my friends (okay, maybe I did but only to see if they were doing alright) and certainly, I'd kill myself again if I kept being Mt brother's shadow even after death.
So I just made the obvious decision to haunt my own house, mother. Not my fault you just happened to be there too.
I have not seen father here, though. So he must be haunting some other place or be down there suffering whatever the devil had set ready for the two of you. For I have not seen you either, mother, and we both know your god complex would not allow you to haunt any other place than this one.
Yet I still hope the devil still gives you enough time to read my letters, dear dead mother. I wouldn't like to know that I've been writing unread letters. (I was ignored enough in life, and I wish not to be in death)