EQAO

Chapter 8 - Gone Forever

I was at my grandparents' cottage. I was sitting on the porch, playing a card game with my grandma and aunt. My grandpa walked up the steps of the porch carrying a box of corn. My aunt and I eagerly grabbed a cob and started shucking.

"These ones are big and will be great for dinner tonight." my grandpa said, putting the box down on a chair.

"I bet." my aunt replied.

I finished the cob and put it in a bowl. My grandpa walked by me to go inside, and gently stepped on my toes as he passed.

"Hey!" I giggled, and tried to step on his feet back, but he moved them before I could.

I jumped up, and followed him inside, while trying to tread on his toes the whole time. My grandma walked in after us and said to me,

"I thought that tonight might be a good night to play bocce ball down by the beach."

"Sure!" my face lit up at the thought of my favourite game, "That sounds great!"

My grandpa stepped on my feet while I was distracted, and I giggled again. I could feel the joy inside of me as I kept giggling. Then, very suddenly, my happiness was stripped away from me as I was looking at a small box on a small table. Around me, everyone was crying, including me. I touched my cheek to find it wet. I knew that this box had my grandma's ashes in it. Another tear spilled out from my eyes, as the scene changed again. This time, I was in a hospital room, at the edge of a bed. In front of me, was my grandpa's ill body. His shallow breaths rattled me to the core. I closed my eyes, sobbed, and opened them again to find my friends staring at me, looking pale and worried.

"Jessica!" Michelle exclaimed, "You passed out! We were so worri- "

"Are you okay?" Anika cut in. Her voice had a softer tone.

I tried to speak, but choked on the words, and curled into a ball, thinking about what I had just experienced, silent tears running down my face. The first memory was eight years ago. That was a happy memory of what my summers used to be like. The next memory was three years ago, when my grandma died, and everything changed. The last memory was from last week, when I went to visit my grandpa, who had cancer. I remembered all too well the feeling I had had before I blacked out. The feeling returned when I processed one thought: Grandpa was dead. The tears ran faster down my hot face.

And soon, you and all your friends will be too.

No. I wouldn't let that happen. I couldn't save grandpa, but I could still save my friends. I had to pull myself together. To get through this, then I could grieve. I took a shaky breath, wiped my tears, and sat up. I cleared my mind from all thought except determination, and said,

"Let's break out of detention."