I heard the bell ring, but the door didn’t open

My mom passed away when I was eight years old. I miss her a lot. My dad and I stayed in our old house. But it’s just not the same. He always says he wishes it was just the two of us, but it’s not true. I know he misses my mom.<br><br>I’m not sure why I did it, but when I was ten, I wrote a card addressed to her and sent it through the mail. I didn’t expect it to get delivered, but I didn’t care and just sent the letter. I wondered if it would just get lost forever, but I wrote my real address on the return label anyway, just in case.<br><br>About two weeks later, I was the only one home. My dad was out with his girlfriend. She was a nice woman. Her name was Ms. Jenny. But I don’t get happy when he’s with her. Not that it’s her fault. It’s just not the same as before.<br><br>The doorbell rang. I went to answer it, but no one was there. I was confused. I even looked behind the door, but nobody was there. I shrugged it off and went back to my room to play with my toys.<br><br>But then I heard the bell ring again. I knew that couldn’t be real, so I ignored it. I heard it a third time. This time it kept ringing, as if someone was pressing the doorbell over and over and over again. I was a little scared. I crept out of my room to look through the peephole.<br><br>The bell kept ringing. I could see a figure standing on the other side of the door. It wasn’t clear, but I could tell they were there. My heart was pounding. Who was this? Why did they keep ringing the doorbell?<br><br>I slowly reached for the doorknob, but before I could turn it, I heard a voice behind me.<br><br>*I’m here for the card.*<br><br>I spun around. I had no idea who this person was. But they were my mom.<br><br>“Mommy?”<br><br>She didn’t say anything. I was too shocked to say anything either. I stood there frozen while she walked up to me.<br><br>*I’m here for the card,* she repeated.<br><br>I swallowed. I didn’t know what to say. She didn’t look like my mom. She was never the most attractive woman, but now she was downright creepy. Her eyes were black as charcoal. Her skin was grayish. She smelled like mold, like when the laundry doesn’t dry fast enough.<br><br>“Well, I’m sorry but I think you have the wrong address,” I said.<br><br>*No. I’m here for the card.*<br><br>“I already told you. That’s not my card.”<br><br>*Really? I think it is.*<br><br>I swallowed. I didn’t know what to say. I tried to run away, but my feet were frozen. And then she grabbed me. It hurt. My arm hurt where she had a grip on me.<br><br>*I’m here for the card.* She dragged me toward the front door. We stepped outside. And on the lawn was a cardboard box the size of a house. I gasped when I saw it. I had no idea how it got there. I had never seen anything like it. It was a little scary, to be honest.<br><br>*You put the card in that box. You put the card in the mailbox. You sent it to me. It’s mine now. I’m here for the card.*<br><br>She dragged me up to the box. It was huge. I had never seen anything so big. It was as if a skyscraper had been turned upside down and placed on the lawn. I was a little scared.<br><br>*I’m here for the card.*<br><br>I hesitated, but then I eventually gave the card to her. She took it and unfolded it. She read it. I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there. I was holding my arm, the one she had grabbed me with. It hurt.<br><br>She finished reading the card and put it away in her pocket. I thought that was it. I thought I could go back inside. I didn’t expect this creepy lady to let me go, but I at least hoped for it. But instead she said, *You don’t know who I am, do you?*<br><br>I shook my head. I didn’t know who she was. And I didn’t even think she was my mom anymore. The only proof that she *was* my mom was that she had my mom’s face. But the rest of her was not my mom. She smelled like mold. And her eyes were charcoal black.<br><br>*I’m here for the card. I always get the card. I always deliver the card.*<br><br>She reached in her pocket and pulled out a little book. She unfolded it and read one page after another. *Delivered card to mister so and so. Delivered card to that and this person. Delivered card after card after card after card.*<br><br>I looked up at her. “What do you do with the cards?”<br><br>*What do you mean?*<br><br>“You said you deliver them. Where do you deliver them to?”<br><br>*I deliver them to the dead.*<br><br>That was all she said. I had so many questions. How did she deliver them? How did she get them to the dead? Was she one of the dead? But she didn’t answer them. She didn’t say anything else at all. She just stood there. And she stood there for a long time.<br><br>I didn’t say anything either. I had another question, and I was afraid of what the answer would be.<br><br>*Do you have another card you’d like to send?* she asked.<br><br>She smiled. I didn’t like it. I didn’t answer. I knew exactly what she was talking about. She was talking about the card I had sent her, the card I had sent to my mom. Did she want me to send another one?<br><br>*I’ll wait.*<br><br>I looked at her. I had to ask. I was scared, but I had to ask. I needed the answer.<br><br>“Were you my mother?” I asked. My voice was shaking.<br><br>*I’m here for the card.*<br><br>“I know. But were you my mother?”<br><br>*I’m here for the card.*<br><br>I nodded. I didn’t say anything else. She didn’t say anything else. We stood there for an hour. I don’t know, maybe it was even longer than that. But she didn’t say anything.<br><br>She still hasn’t said anything.<br><br>She’s still out there.<br><br>And she’s waiting.