He had kept their mother alive in their thoughts. Too alive, perhaps.

So alive, in fact, that he was starting to see things, hearing them when he was alone in his home or at work, no place being safe from the visions or the whispers.

In the morning, when he woke up and washed his face, he could see her image in the mirror. He started to believe he was insane. Sometimes, she even accompanied him outside, and the fact that nobody else seemed to notice the half transparent person phasing through people and obstacles made it all the more surreal.

He believed it was all on his head.

That is, until the incident.

One day, while visiting a friend at his place, it happened.

They were just talking about silly things, about how hard and tiring their days were, complaining about anything and everything. At some point, maybe in a half drunked daze, they started spouting things like "that guy is an asshole", or "if only that bitch would look at me, I would do X and XXX", and they exchanged rumors and dirty gossips that, while they knew were probably full of shit, helped them vent steam.

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When suddenly, BOOM!, there she was, giving them a disapproving glare, the kind only a mother can give comunicate with just a look "I am so disappointing in you, I thought you were better than this".

And then, after the shock wore off, the sheer shame that descended upon them was enough for them to fall down on their knees and crumble, their minds locked, incapable of doing anything else than loathe in their misdeeds or whatever.

And thus, the legend of the phantasmal mother was born, she who watches over us all, like a guardian angel, except it is a guardian mom ghost thing, always guiding us, lending a hearing ear, watching and judging, so that we may properly feel shame and regret for those silly, stupid things we know we shouldn't be doing but do anyway.

The phantasmal mom is watching you.