The sky was overcast, and the air was so stiflingly hot that water could seep out of the walls.

Summer weather like this can inexplicably make people irritable, but right now, I felt a chill.

There were few pedestrians on the road, only a funeral procession of about seven or eight people.

They were dressed in black mourning clothes, walking quietly and slowly.

The person at the front was holding a funeral portrait, the girl in the photo bore a resemblance to me.

I don't know if it was just my illusion, but I felt like these people were also staring at me.

Yet when I looked at them, they were all staring ahead blankly.

I hadn't even entered the neighborhood when I heard the piercing sound of police sirens.

Neighbor Granny Zhang, with tears in her eyes, grabbed my hand and said, "Rongrong, your mom jumped off a building."

"What?"

I was in disbelief.

Was it because I talked back to her this morning?

“I was coming back from buying groceries and saw your mom leaning halfway out of the window. I shouted 'Danger!' but she just smiled at me, and then her body toppled down, crashing to the ground right in front of me!”

I was struck dumb, standing there in a daze. Granny Zhang was still holding me and saying something, but I couldn't hear clearly. Everything went black and a ringing filled my ears.

I recalled that mom had said before that she only had me. But I, knowing she might have mental issues, still went and provoked her.

I felt so guilty, I wanted to slap myself.

The police told me that not long after I left, mom climbed up onto the bathroom windowsill and jumped from the spot where my brother had committed suicide, falling to her death onto the flowerbed below.

She lay on the grass, blood bursting out around her.

All the bones in her body were shattered, her limbs twisted in the opposite directions, her neck bent almost 90 degrees, her mouth wide open, and blood oozing out from her eyes, nostrils, and mouth.

I noticed that there was dirt under mom’s fingernails, and the grass around her was clawed. This indicated that she didn’t die immediately; she suffered and struggled for a while before taking her last breath.

A wave of immense sorrow hit me, and I cried to the point of nearly passing out.

Given the clear motive and eyewitness, the police quickly classified the case as a suicide and handed the body over to the family.

The onlookers soon dispersed, and I carried mom’s body back home.

According to tradition, the body should be kept at home for three days before burial.

During these three days, one should ideally seek help from relatives and friends to arrange the funeral. But mom had eloped with dad long ago, severing ties with all family members.

And dad left us when I was very young, with no word since then.

Over the years, mom didn’t have friends either, just like she said, she only had me now.

And now, I only had myself.

After cleaning mom's body, I placed her on her bed and contacted the funeral home to arrange for cremation and burial in three days.

Perhaps from grieving too much, after all this was done, I felt utterly drained, a wave of overwhelming fatigue washing over me.

Enveloped in a tide of sorrow, I fell into a deep sleep.