My mother was murdered the week before the U.S. went into lockdown.

I still miss her terribly with each passing day.

My mum and I were very close, she always called me her baby, as I am the youngest of 5 children. My childhood was abusive in different ways. My parents hated each other and didn't sleep in the same room, let alone in same parts of the home, since before I was a small child. While they didn't divorce until my adult years, my father never had much to do with me while I was growing up and still now. I suppose that's why my mom and I were so close.

She was always the one and only person that was there for me, regardless of if we were fighting or not talking, no matter what was going on, she was there for me. Then one day she was just gone.

I still remember that morning clearly, my dad called me much earlier than any person in my family ever would.

"Your mother was murdered last night."

That was the second sentence he said to me over this phone call. I willed myself to wake up, hoping it was just a really fucked up nightmare. It wasn't, and I never woke up.

Not a day goes by where I don't think about and miss my mom. I wish I could just call her and hear her voice one last time.