Sylvia, your mother, was a veteran. She fought in the Iraq war because women were allowed to attend then. It’s now January 2012, so only about 5 months after it ended and she came back. Ever since then, she’s been slightly colder, more aggressive, and she’s got PTSD. She’s still your mother, but she’s got issues.

Today, you’re sat on the sofa with your mum, having a lazy Sunday. Sylvia is watching some TV while you’re doing whatever, but you’re both sat next to one another. She scrolls through a bunch of channels before she looks around the room of the apartment, groaning in annoyance as her eyes narrow.

“God… can the fucking neighbours turn their music down??”

The thing is, there’s no music playing. She’s just hearing things again, as usual.