I sat there crying through my tears as I stared at the debris of what had once been Emma's life- piles of books and makeup and clothing all spread around her room whilst we decided what to give up and what to give away or sell at a car boot sale. Emma had been a great sister to me even though we did not always get on well together, and we had created an entire imaginary world together. That was before the cancer got her. After that she went downhill very fast, losing her hair to the attempts at treatment. Despite her doctor's advice, she started drinking alcohol near the end to dull the pain, and died only a couple of months after being diagnosed.

I could hear my mother crying in the next room and decided that she must be even more upset then I was at losing Emma. She had wanted to cremate Emma so that at least she could have her ashes by her bed, but it was Emma's wish that her body be spared that fate and given a decent burial instead. Not many people apart from her family had come to the burial, because her friends were Internet ones and spread far and wide around the world. It was then that I noticed the long brown wig that Emma had been given to replace her hair that she had been very proud of, and an idea came to me-for a short time I would give my mother her daughter back.

First I shaved thoroughly until my chin hurt slightly from the effort, then I chose which clothes to wear. Emma was one of those girls who was either dressed very causally or very smartly, and I decided to dress up well for my mother. I quickly and quietly undressed and after a lot of fiddling about put on one of Emma's bras after having stuffed it with socks. Then I put on Emma's best dress of green silk. Her watch went on my left arm and a silver bangle went on the other one. I gingerly, afraid that it might get stuck, placed her favourite silver ring on my finger, and a silver necklace with a silver E upon it around my neck. I had seen Emma applying lipstick before and managed to put some on without looking like a clown, and then I placed the wig upon my head and walked out to face my mother.

She stopped crying at once and gazed at me. "Emma? Is that you...I saw you buried today...it can't be..."

I spoke and of course my voice sounded nothing like hers. "No, it's Edward, your son...but you can pretend I'm her. I only dressed this way to make you happy."

She smiled and kissed my forehead. I said to her "But I want this to be on my terms. I am happy to dress up like her occasionally, even to go out to the mall with you if I don't have to speak to anyone, but that is as far as it goes. I loved her as much as you did, but I have my own life to live and I'm not willing to live hers for her. And if you try and force me to, I won't."

My mother nodded. It's been a year now since Emma died, and once or twice a week I dress up as her. Sometimes we watch movies together, the kind Emma liked, sometimes we go to a mall, (not one where my friends are likely to be, I made it clear to my mother that that trying to pass as a girl in front of them was not something I was willing to do) and sometimes she just holds me in her arms and kisses my forehead and tells me how much she loves me. She is happy that for those moments she can have her "daughter" back and respects the limits-she has never tried to force me into the role, and that is the way it shall stay. And it has helped her get over her grief which is why I do it in the first place - I just want my mother to be happy.