Matt was the youngest of the two brothers. One day when I was sitting in class we were talking about parents. I asked Matt about his mother and he said "My mom's dead." My face dropped I grew red. "Oh, I'm sorry, do mind talking to me about it?" You see Matt and I were very good friends, however, he never talked about his mother. I looked over and saw that his face had gone pale. I grew silent not wanting to trouble him. "My mom used to always ride her motorcycle to and from work, or where ever she wanted to go. One day she didn't come home. I was 10 and my older brother was 16. My dad told my older brother that my mother had died in an auto accident. Someone had hit her going over 70 mph. My mother flew into a ditch and broke her neck." He said. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." "But one day, two months after my mother's death, my brother came out of the bathroom crying hysterically. I asked him what was wrong. I had never seen him cry that hard ever in my life. Not even after our mom died. He pointed and said that my mother was in the bathroom. I told him to stop f***ing around, but I could tell that he wasn't. 'NO! she's really in there!' he screamed to me. His hands were shaking. He then told me that she was hanging upside down from the ceiling holding her head in her arms starring at him." Matt took a deep breath and he shuddered at the thought. I turned away feeling horrified.