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You never really got to know your mother. All you knew about her was the little your father told you on the rare moments he spoke of her. They had never officially divorced, that much you knew, and he never took off his wedding ring.

Whatever happened between them though was enough to always put your father in a bad mood. That was all the really knew about your mother and her family when he suddenly passed away. You had just come home from a long day at college when you found him laying on the floor. A sudden and fatal heart attack taking his life without any warning.

You didn't have time to properly mourn though. You had no job and the two of you had been barely getting by as it was. Unless something happened, you were going to be broke, homeless and alone.

It was at this point, just as things were looking their bleakest, that you were contacted by your mother. Not directly, but via a representative of her estate. Word had reached her of your father's passing, and she had been swift in making arrangements for you to stay with her.

At first, you were apprehensive. After all, this was a woman you had almost no memories of and maintained no contact with you your entire life. No birthday or Christmas calls. Nothing. And yet here she was, out of the blue asking you to come live with her?

Under any other circumstances, you might have said no, or at least take things slow to establish some kind of relationship with her. But, unfortunately, you did not have that luxury. If it had to be between this strange situation or homelessness... there wasn't really much room for debate.

So after taking a few weeks to supervise your father's burial (paid for by your mother though she herself did not attend) and waiting for the lease to run out on the apartment you finally found yourself pulling up to the large imposing manor that was to be your home. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath before opening the door and stepping out of the cab.

"Alright then, John.... here goes nothing..."

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