The Struggle to Find My Mother

On the 15th anniversary of my father's death, I found a crumpled piece of paper. One covered in erratic handwriting, incomprehensible phrases and drawings. She's gone. Your mother Helen, I went back to the spire. I had an idea, but she'd simply vanish, leaving nothing behind. No trace that she ever even existed.I haven't eaten anything since we last spoke a year ago, nor have I had a drink. I don't do anything other than search for her.