Talk about it.

That hazy morning, I rubbed my sleepy eyes and got out of bed. I strolled slowly into the living room. My strong thirst urges me to drink water. Suddenly I found that the light in my mother's room was still on, and it was scattered on the ground like a layer of silver frost. I walked over gently, leaned over and looked under the door. I saw my mother wearing a thin dress and sitting quietly on the chair and table. Suddenly an inexplicable sour taste rolled in my heart. Seeing this, I quickly went back to bed, curled up under the covers, and kept thinking about the scene in my mind. Sadness, regret and helplessness were intertwined, like countless ropes that strangled my heart. My heart, for some reason, began to float with sunflower-like petal rain, shaking like a mosaic, making me unable to breathe.