The Stories

Dear Gram

"Grandma....isn't coming over anymore. She's gone."

I ran into my room. Those words rang in my head. My heart beat was fast. My breaths were heavy. I held in tears. I held in everything.

Resent. I told myself Grandma was a fool. A fool that only cared for others and never took care of herself. That's how she passed away anyways. She was to stupid to figure out she was sick. To dumb to notice. She was a fool.

Anger. I suddenly punched the wall. I put a hole in the wall that did nothing to me. How could she just leave me I asked myself in anger. How selfish could she be?! Just leaving me like that, without telling me?! Without a goodbye?! She took care of me, helped me, loved me, then decides to leave?!

Hurt. I pulled back my fist. It stung. Blood seeped through my knuckles. "Agh!" I yelled in pain. I growled, holding in my shouts. I fell to my knees. Tears started to blur my vision. How can I say that about her?! Why would I say those bad things about her?! She cared for me since I was three. She loved me unconditionally. She treated me...like her own daughter. Who am I to say those rude things about her?! She taught me all I knew. All the chores, songs, games, and math. Tears streamed down my face.

Regret. I wish I could have said goodbye. I wish I could of said sorry for everything I did. Everything I did that made her cry. The time I yelled at her, the time I said I hated her, the time I clawed her arm, the time I said....that I didn't love her. I wish I could have told her one more time, that I loved her. I wish I had one more chance, to say I love you.

I pulled out a pocket knife from my drawer. I opened it up. I put out my arm. Then...I remembered.

Remembrances. She wouldn't want me to cry though would she? She wouldn't want me to be hurt would she? Wouldn't she want be to be happy? To go on with my life. "Child, don't cry. I'm in a better place. It will be okay. Live your life, don't be hurt because of me. Then I will cry. " that's what she would have said. What she would have told me. I smiled. She loves me. She won't let me get hurt. Like the time I fell off my bike or the time I scraped my elbow. She was always there. Never left my side.

And she never will leave my side. I remembered that day. It was the first day of kindergarten. I cried for her not to leave me. But she told me that, "I'm always with you, as long as you still have a heart."

I put down the knife and got out a journal. I labeled it:

Dear Gram,