The Banana Bread

                                    By: JSwrites

On a regular Monday morning.

I walked into the kitchen, the sweet aroma of grandma's banana bread made my mouth water. I took a seat on a wooden stool set up at the island, looking over the kitchen. My grandmother stood in front of the stove, watching the old wind-up timer for when it was time to take the bread out of the oven.

"Grams?" I ask.

"Yes, love?" My grandmother turns to face me.

"How much longer?" I asked.

"Only time will tell," She responds warily, then she turns back to the oven.

"No, I mean how much time is left until the banana bread is done?"  I asked with coherent confusion in my voice.

She doesn't respond. I decide to look at the timer myself; half-bemused by the lack of ticking coming from it so far. I lean to the left to get a glimpse of the location of the pointer on the wind-up timer, only to realize that it is exactly at the top.

"Hey grandma, I think you forgot to start the timer." I say while walking over to grab it and wind it up for her. Only as I reach my hand out to take it, she grabs my arm tightly and I feel her nails dig into my arm.

"Only time will tell.." She says with a forceful tone as she turns around to face me. Her expression isn't one I've seen before. It is empty yet serious to the point where she looks mad; furious even. It is like I am looking at a complete stranger that has taken the form of my grandmother.

Suddenly, a small circle on the oven is flashing, cueing that the banana bread is most likely finished. 

"Hey Grammy, I think the banana bread is done." I said. I tried to yank my arm away from her grip and walk over to the oven,  but she didn't release it.

"Uh grams, can you le-" I couldn't even finish when she shouted.

"ONLY TIME WILL TELL!"
She shouts, getting closer to me with the same expression on her face.
I immediately started to fear my grandmother, which had never happened before. Every single instinct in my head is telling me to run. The grip gets tighter around my wrist.

"GRANDMA LET GO!" I say as the grip starts to cut my circulation off my arm. She doesn't say anything as her empty, stranger-like glare continues to dig into my head.

By now, the oven is beeping and flashing furiously. Smoke begins to come out of the oven. I kick my grandma to the floor. I bolt to the oven to turn it off. I open it as I burn my fingers on the tray as I pull the banana bread out and set it on the counter. I run to the sink to run cold water over my fingers, and as I turn around..

My grandma is gone. The kitchen is empty. The smoke is everywhere.

"What's going on in here!" My mother runs into the kitchen, waving her hand in the smoke.

"I- Grandm- The bread-." I struggle as I try to explain what had happened.

"Grandma? Sweetie, your grandmother died a long time ago, from a kitchen fire before you were born." My mother said, as she put the fire out.

I'm at a loss for words. How can my grandmother, the woman in all those old pictures of my mom's childhood, be dead when I had spoken to her less than a minute ago? I suddenly remembered everything. The banana bread recipe was her super secret recipe that only she knew how to make.

I turned around to find out that the banana bread was gone.