She knew it was there the moment he disappeared; constantly watching her, constantly following her like a shadow. It stood beside her like a sinister friend, inviting her to confide when she was ready.

She resisted.

But still, it followed, its silent prescence always disturbing her. On the few occasions she was able to escape from it, she was presented with a different quandary: either live in hope, praying he was alive, or accept that he was gone. Common sense forbade her to admit the first. To acknowledge the latter was too hard to bear.

She was trapped.

No longer to endure it any further, she allowed herself a brief sojourn with her stalker. It allowed her to retreat back in time, to wallow and to forget. Soon, she began to visit it more often; her lucid moments becoming smaller and less frequent until she could not even recognise her own son.

She succumbed to insanity.