A Ghost I Never Was

202603232

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

“It looks like so much, when it’s all pulled out like this…” Mum bemoans, wringing her hands and frowning at all the hoarded tat like it somehow snuck into her house of its own accord.
“Uh-huh.” I open yet another box of stuff kept ‘just in case’ and pull out a mug, still in its cheery cardboard wrapping. “Keep or-”
Mum gasps. For a moment I think she’s going to snatch it out of my hand. Bewildered, I look down at it again, properly this time.
It honestly takes me a moment to realise why she’d have a “world’s best daughter” mug, at which point her horror and guilt makes perfect sense.
“I bought it before-”
“I figured.” I shoot her a reassuring smile, but she still looks flustered.
“I swear I wasn’t keeping it because, I don’t know - I never thought this was, was just a phase or whatever nonsense-”
“Mum! It’s fine. You’ve always tried so hard. I’m not double-guessing all the support you’ve shown me just because I found a, I don’t know, a ghost of my old life stuck amongst all the other shit you should’ve decluttered years ago.”
She relaxes with a rueful laugh. “It really should’ve gone straight to the charity shop, shouldn’t it? I don’t know why - it must have just got put to one side and then…”
“Uh-huh.” I chuckle and pull her into a one-armed hug. “Like, dad hasn’t waxed his beard since before I went on T, but there’s still full styling kits in odd places.”
“Those are all open, though.” She heaves a resigned sigh. “He’d start using one, then lose it. Can’t give them away. Unhygienic.”
I shrug. Put the mug - pristine, unopened, never used, bought for someone who didn’t actually exist - in the 'charity shop' pile. Then tell her “I still use that ‘world’s best son’ mug. Every time I feel down after reading the news. It’s… comforting. Validating.”
“Oh good!”
It warms my heart to see how that lights her up.
“I’m so glad they had one - it was meant to be limited edition, but they checked the back for me and found some. Apparently the ones for sons were less popular, isn’t that sad? It’s not like they were any less nice. But with the run being over they didn’t want the daughter one I’d bought back.”
She claps her hands. “Oh, that’s it - I thought I ought to ask around my friends, see if anyone wanted it, it being special edition and all, then that must’ve fallen off the bottom of the list.”
Ah, yes. The ‘I really ought to’ section of the to-do list is a slippery, treacherous place. At least for both of us. Dad’s the one with his shit together.
“Well, if you want to ask around…”
“No, I can’t think anybody’s sad about missing them now. Let it be a nice find for thrifters.”
“I hope it gives them even half as much joy as the one you bought me has.” I say, just to see her beam again.
We’re both smiling as we dive into the rest of the box.

Prompt was “Write a story about someone or something that never got to serve the purpose it was created for.”