I was 8 years old and playing in the front garden of my childhood home. My dad had to make a quick drive to the store to get a few things, leaving me home alone for a little while. I didn’t mind, though. It’d been difficult to adjust at first after my sister had been admitted to hospital, but it’d been about a year by then, so I was pretty good at entertaining myself. Plus, I could talk to my mom without my dad telling me to stop. She’d left when my sister’s health started to deteriorate because of the stress, but I still liked to pretend to talk to her, even if she wasn’t really there.

“Okay, I’m gonna try again,” I said to myself, climbing onto my bike for the 12th time that day. I was trying to learn how to stop and start without wobbling and falling off by riding up and down the garden path.

“Are you watching?”

“Yes.”

My eyes widened and I looked up to see something standing at the end of the path.

“Wh-who are you?” I stuttered.

“Who am I? Don’t you mean what am I?”

“What are you?”

“Whatever you want me to be.”

“Like… a dog?”

I’d begged my parents to get me a puppy before my mom left, but stopped when she did because my dad was already struggling emotionally and financially without the extra expense of a pet.

“Sure, I can be a dog.”

The thing suddenly shapeshifted into a fuzzy little puppy, exactly what I’d always pictured in my head as my dream pet. I was speechless.

“Or, I can be a cat.”

It changed again.

“Or an old woman, or a unicorn, or your sister.”

Suddenly standing before me was the spitting image of my sister, it even sounded like her, but it looked perfectly healthy.

“Or even your mother.”

My heart almost thumped out of my chest.

“Yes! Stay like that! My mom!” I cried.

“Okay, okay, I can be your mom… but why should I?”

All I could come out with was ‘Uh’s and ‘Um’s when it continued to talk.

“Can I stay here? Marry your dad? Can I live as your mom forever?” it asked, still sounding and looking exactly like my mother.

“Of course!”

“Great! But you have to promise me one thing; you can never ever tell anyone that I’m not your real mom. If you do, I’ll know, and I’ll leave and never come back.”

I agreed. My dad was ecstatic when he came home to me sitting on my mom’s lap on our front doorstep. The fake mom concocted a story of her life whilst she’d been away and nobody ever questioned it. Why would they? She was my mother through and through. They had their dream wedding they’d been planning before she left, my sister recovered from her illness not long after, and everything was perfect. I barely even remembered what had happened that day. I actually convinced myself it was all a stupid dream.

Until today. She barged into my apartment, bawling her eyes out. An hour later, she finally got her words out.

“You said I could be your mom forever! You promised!” she shouted at me.

“What do you mean? What’s changed?” I asked.

“Your dad wants a divorce! He said what I put him through when I left has been weighing on him for too long. I’m not the one that left! I’m the one that came back! What am I supposed to do?”

“You can still be my mom even if you divorce! I still love you and so does Stacey - so does everyone!”

“You just don’t get it, do you? He never loved me. He only loved your real mom!”

My stomach sank lower and lower with every word she said. Another few hours of her shouting and crying and me comforting her passed by. She finally calmed down.

“Can I just ask…” I hesitated for a moment, “Why is it you chose us?”

My fake mom stared at me blankly for a couple of seconds before chuckling to herself. I was so anxious to know the answer that I barely held back my urge to scream at her to answer quicker.

“I didn’t choose you. Your mom needed help. Your sister was dying and there was nothing she could do. I helped her. She gave up her soul to save Stacey. It took a while, but finally I was ready to be a part of your family. And this is what I get in return? Divorce papers?”

She slowly began to transform back to the thing she’d been when we first met. For the first time in 15 years, she was a demon again. But she didn’t look friendly like she had all those years ago. She looked angry.

“Mine and your mother’s agreement was that I would replace her. Stacey would live and never fall ill again. You would live a full and healthy life too. I’d be married to your dad happily forever. Your mother would never come back. Well, she couldn’t hold up her end of the deal, so I won’t be holding up mine.”

The thing became my fake nom again and left my apartment. I expected her to just leave and never return, but my sister called me 20 minutes ago.

She doesn’t feel well.