Suffering

Jackey

     A girl was passing by an old man, who seemed kind of sad. He suddenly stopped her:
 
     "I'm sorry for bothering, but can you please help me out?"

    The girl stopped, suddenly interested.

    "I want to give these flowers to my grandson, but I don't know where he is. All I remember is that he is somewhere around this village." The old man said, then continued: "Could you please give them to him, if you find him? His name is Jack, but I usually call him Jackey, and he is nine years old."

    Since the village was small, the girl decided she would help this poor man out.

    "Thank you so much!" The old man responded happily.

    The girl looked everywhere for this boy called Jack, but she never found him. She even asked around about him, still nothing. The only place left to search for him was the graveyard.

    The girl thought that even thinking about searching for him in the graveyard was silly, but she tried anyway.

    She passed each grave, until...

     "Jack Anderson

     1996-2005

      Died in a car accident.

     We will truly miss you, Jackey."

    The girl stood there in shock. This couldn't be the Jackey the old man was talking about, right?

    She read what was written on the grave again. And again. And again.

    At one point, she finally accepted the reality. It was definitely him. There was no other little boy in this village than the one sitting in this grave right now.
     She carefully placed the flowers and stared at them. The only thing that she was hearing was the old man telling her about his grandson.

    Finally, she returned to the old man and found him sleeping on the same bench as earlier. She woke him up.

    "Good evening! May I ask who you are, miss?" He said in a gentle tone.

    The girl looked at him weirdly and told him about the flowers.

   "Ah! Sorry, I tend to forget a lot these days. Did he like the flowers?"

    The girl looked at him in shock.

    "Young lady? Did my grandson like the roses?" The man asked again.

     "Should I tell him that his grandson is dead?"she started to think.

    "He liked them very much." She finally tells him with a sad smile.

    "I knew he would like them, roses are his favorite flowers! Thank you so much, young lady!" The old man laughed, then went back to sleep.

   The girl continued going her way, trying to forget about what happened.

    But the pain will always haunt her.