At her son’s funeral, the mother suddenly grabbed an axe and struck the coffin lid repeatedly: when it splintered open, everyone saw something horrifying.
– I’m not going to the funeral, that isn’t my son.
– Mom, what are you saying? This is your son, my husband. How can you refuse to attend?
– You don’t understand. My son isn’t in that coffin. They’re lying, hiding something.
– But Mom, you saw the papers. They explained his face was destr0yed in the cra:sh, yet the DNA confirmed it was him.
– That isn’t my son, I can feel it.
– You’re just grieving, refusing to accept he’s truly gone.
– My son is alive. Stop talking about him as if he’s already de:ad.
