Sobbing and sniffling that's all I hear from the people all around. Me, I had an expressionless face, a facade of a cold marble statue. I wasn't crying because I knew better than that. I looked around again and saw the black attire people were wearing. I was the outlier, wearing my Marine uniform that has become like a second layer of skin on me. I then faced forward to the pastor, listening to his monotone voice go on and on about how she was such an amazing woman. After he was finished his pathetic eulogy, he asked if anyone wanted to say something about her. He looked at me while saying it, expecting me to volunteer. But I knew better than that, she wouldn't want me to say heartfelt sentimental things about her. Even if she did, I still couldn't do it because I am equivalent to a brick wall when it comes to sharing my emotions.  That's what makes me and her alike. Looking back, a lot of people say I'm just like her, in her mannerisms, personality, even her looks. People didn't mean it in a nice way, but I took it as a compliment. As they lowered her further and further, I still couldn't bring myself to shed tears. After the ceremony, people she knew came up to me to say their condolences. I just nodded my head. They tried to hug me, but I wouldn't return it. So it was awkward on both sides. I didn't even say bye to them, I just walked off and went inside my black Mustang GT. As I drove to my apartment, I thought about all the memories I had of her. I remembered having colds when I was younger, and she wouldn't care. She would tell me to suck it up. I even remembered when she was deployed to Pakistan, and she left me at home at ten years old. I was at the airport bawling my eyes out but she told me to suck it up because I knew better. That memory was engraved into my brain because that was the last time I cried. Finally what seemed like forever, I made it to my apartment complex that is in a secluded forest area. I stepped out of my car and felt the coldness of the wind slap me in the face. I shut the door and looked into the forest adjacent to the apartments. I noticed smoke swirling out of the woods and thought it was fog condensing to the surface. I walk up the stairs and reach my apartment door. I take my keys out of my pocket. Suddenly, I feel like I'm being watched, so I turned around to see who it was, but saw no one. I quickly opened my door, feeling paranoid, and when I was inside I locked all the bolts to the door. I let out a deep breath I was holding in and went to my refrigerator to get a beer. I popped it opened and sat on my living room couch. I didn't bother taking off my uniform I just wanted to relax and watch T.V. I flipped through the channels for twenty minutes until I decided to just watch the History Channel. It felt like the room temperature dropped drastically because puffs of air started coming out of my nostrils. Then I felt something cold touch my shoulder. I quickly turned around and saw her. She was staring at me with a blank stare. I noticed she was wearing her uniform that she was buried in. There was also a bullet hole on her forehead. The one that took her life and ripped her from me. "Mommy", I whispered in disbelief. She slowly walked in front of me and kneeled down. I reached to touch her face to make sure it was not my imagination. Proving that it was actually her, I leaned my head against hers and felt tears rolling down my cheeks. She silently wiped them away. "You look just like me, especially in that uniform", she silently chuckled. "After you left, I wanted to join the Marines just so I could find you", I confessed. "Honey, I'm sorry for not being a loving mother, but I wanted to toughen you up because I knew one day this would happen", she said. She stood up and was now standing in the middle of the living room. "What are you doing? Where are you going? Please don't leave me again", I frantically spoke. "My time is up. I need to leave soon", she said in a calm voice. "No! Please don't go", I begged. I kneeled in front of her, wrapping my arms around her legs. In just a minute, she disappeared. She was gone. Forever. I just stayed in that position for a minute, tears falling, making a small puddle on the dark wood floor. More and more they fell. I realized my mother would have rebuked me if she saw me cry, especially if it was because of her. But I didn't care, after years of her absence I finally saw her again, except in a coffin. This was the first time in years that I've actually cried. I guess I didn't know any better.