Writing Competition with strawberrycoolaid

The Day the Grass did not Fly

     It had been three years ago. Our small town had been hit with bad weather. A tornado and bad floods, It was no surprise that I had perished. The tornado whisked straight past our small home and took the whole back wall with it. My grandfather had built the house many years ago. He was never a carpenter, but he was a man among men. It was late, after sundown when the tornado had hit. The roof collapsed after the back wall was taken. Our small old house stood no chance, neither did I. 

     If I  had to be honest I don't know how I died, the first log to fall knocked me out. It could have probably been anything. I try not to remember. That was then, now I watch over my grandmother, I call her Memaw. Me and Memaw lived together as long as I can remember, my grandfather died before I could remember him. Memaw would always tell me stories about him. Her amber eyes would glisten like the sun with ever tale. My favorites story was when she met him. She claimed the wind didn't bother to send grass flying. She would always say strange things like this.

     "My lovely Riley", she would start, "When I met your grandfather It was like time had stopped, the wind did not bother to send the grass flying. I had been taking a stroll through the forest amongst the whistling trees and rustling foliage.  I had made it deep into the forest before the wind picked up with enough speed I was sure I would be swept away" she stopped as though she forgot what happened next, "Amongst my fear of being blown away a deer had burst through the bushes at my side and lept past with such force that twigs had flewn with it.  Almost as though the wind was being chased by the dear it had left along with its violently stunning figure. By that point I had fallen, you know, It was such a fright."

     "And then grandfather showed up" ,I would say, "and then you married." 

     Memaw would always respond with the same thing, "We didn't get married in this story but maybe I will tell that one next." She would chuckle as I rolled my eyes but continued anyway, "And then your grandfather appeared, he came through the bushes holding a hunting knife. He had clearly been chasing after the deer, though I still doubt he had gotten close with that hunting knife of his." She sighed, "Your grandfather was a strange man, he almost didn't notice me, so infatuated with the deer." I would continue this memory of mine but If I did it would take forever.

     Memaw no longer tells old stories for she has no one to tell them to, she sits on the porch of her sons house. For it having only been three years she looks as though she has aged thirty. Her skin once peach now looks pale and papery. The neighborhood children call her a witch. She never seemed to care though as she looked towards the wall of trees facing the house. I often sit next to her gazing at the trees. It was boring but it beats wandering around for something interesting. Late one autumn day I was sitting with her when the fallen leaves froze in place.

     Almost like the story memaw told me everything stopped moving. Memaw seemed to have been waiting for this as she immediately left her chair to hobble down the stairs and into the forest. She had barely gotten to the trees when some bushes started moving. A pair of antlers gave way to a deer and upon seeing memaw it moved to watch. Memaw paused to stare when another figure came from the trees, through the bushes. An old man, younger than memaw but whose hair was beginning to grey. He stopped as though frozen with the leaves and grass. 

     "Maybel" The man spoke, his voice cutting through the silence. It was my memaw's name. That can only mean, that man, he is my grandfather. As soon as the realization struck I ran to him. I began to look at the details of his face before hearing him shout with a sudden urgency, "Maybel" who had just fallen. He rushed to her side, as did I, as we attempted to help her. The deer also seems to take notice of the whole situation as it strides over. Me and my grandfather part ways for it as it leans towards memaw. Memaw begins to move seeming to double as a second memaw stands from within the first. 

    "My lovely Riley" she says reaching towards me before turning towards my grandfather "You are here" she whispers as though afraid he might hear. The deer, seemingly content, heads towards the forest as memaw aquaints me and my grandfather. My grandfather seemed unable to see me until memaw did so. The deer had reached the line of trees and turned back to the three of us. Suddenly, as if against our will, we were pulled towards the deer. Memaw quickly grabbed our hands and with the slight warmth of her frail hands I was, for the first time, glad that I had passed. The three of us, much more of our own free will, followed the deer into the forest and with that my story ends. That was the day the grass did not fly, nor did the leaves. It was the day everything fell silent. It was the day I met my grandfather. 

Prompt

Title  -  Characters: Old woman (Maybel), Ghost (Riley), Deer  -  Setting: Forest