Take My Hand - Pure Heart sequel (ON HOLD)

Chapter 1: Melissa

Chapter 1 – Melissa

       I grabbed my grandma’s hand and stroked it softly. Her skin was soft and wrinkly.  I was feeling over the creases when suddenly I flashed back to my past.  I was a little girl sitting in front of my grandma’s chair, listening to the story she had told me a million times before.  I loved the story, and whenever she told it, I’d listen.  No wonder I already had it embedded in my brain. 

“…Her daughter was dying, and she couldn’t see the killer.  Her daughter’s time was ticking, still the mother couldn’t see the killer, and she only had so much time,” Grandma coughed.  She was telling me the story.

         I looked at myself as a little girl; little me was watching grandma intensively.  My little eyes were wide with anticipation and curiosity.  This was my favorite time of day.  I could still remember, right when I came back from school, when grandma would cook me some lunch.  (I was a beast! Even now, I eat lunch at school and at home!) Then she would take me by the hand and I would listen to the story.  I had heard all parts of the story within a week, everyday she told me a little part, and then left me hanging until the next day.  I would always be counting down to moment I was with her. Right when the school bell rang, I’d run out in the hallway to be first online, which meant I would be out the door first and dashing toward home.  I never did homework right away, why would I?

  “…But the mother didn’t give up, the mother believed that if she tried hard enough she would see the killer, she believed that there was a indeed a man who was trying to kill her only daughter, and she believed if she believed she would see him.  And she did…”

           I smiled, grandma always said the story word for word, but somehow she managed to make it feel different every time.  “What’s next, what’s next?!” little me screamed, biting her little finger nails.  Grandma laughed.  So did I.

  “She lunged at him, ready to rip his throat out!” Grandma imitated the mother, slightly getting of her chair and roaring at little me.  She flinched, or rather, I flinched. “But he had escaped with her daughter’s heart.”

  “What’d he do with it gwamma?”

  “No one knows, they say he—ate it!” she said it, her eyes wide open.  Little me squirmed, and quickly covered her ears with her tiny little hands. “I’m not done yet.” Grandma said, picking up little me in her arms.

            She started patting my head.   “The mother didn’t let it go.  She wrote a letter, saying all the symptoms her daughter showed her about being a Pure Heart.  You know why she did that?” Grandma asked cocking her head to the side.  “So that if a mother saw those on her daughter she could try to save her.  And she had written it for us to help keep this letter going.  You know what I mean?” Little me shook her head, confused.  “That means, when you’re 16, you’re going to get this letter from your mommy. And when you’re married you’re going to give it to your daughter, and then her daughter, and so on.”

  “Huh! Weally gwamma! Weally?” Little me jumped in excitement.  I shook my head smiling at myself.

  “Yup, only ten more years for you to go!” she said brushing her index finger quickly over the tip of my nose.  Little me pushed away her fingers.

  “Gwamma, so are we related to the girl? Or her mommy?” Grandma smiled a sincere smile.  “That’s tomorrow’s story…”

            The flashback ended, and I was back in the hospital sitting in front of my sick grandma, still holding her hand.  My hand was clenching hers with extreme strength and I let go at once, afraid that I might’ve disturbed her blood pulse.  I laid my head on her bed, stroking the bed calmly.  I smiled at first, remembering the flash back just seconds ago, remembering how she was always so kind to me, and how she always loved me.  I think she might love me even more than my mother, because I know I love her more than mom. 

             I glanced at her face.  She was pale, and her eyes were closed.  Her face was wrinkled and she looked like plain old grandma, except she was tired.  She has been getting sick a lot these days and she’s made it through.  She has been tired for a few weeks now, and I don’t think she’s going to make it out this time.  This thought upset me.  Losing Grandma was the worst thing that could happen, I couldn’t live without her.  Who would bake me cookies all the time? Who would make corny jokes? Who would be at home, unlike mom?

  “Gramma?” I asked her.  “Can you tell me the story again?” Even though I knew she wouldn’t answer, I gave it a try.  Maybe, Just maybe? Who was I kidding…?

       I started to cry, my tears were falling down but I didn’t stop them. A range of emotions rushed into me.  They were flowing out like running water in a river. I set them free until when the nurse walked in she cleared her throat and caught my attention.

“Visiting hours are over.”

  “I love you gramma.”   I wish I could’ve just stayed there with her at least till the morning.  It would’ve made me feel better. I think.

  I nodded and got up to go.  Taking a look back at grandma, I sighed and noticed that I had left a wet puddle of tears on her blanket. 

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            Someone was knocking on my door.  I was wondering whether I should just let the doorbell continue ringing or whether I should actually get up and answer it.  I was in no mood, especially after yesterday.  But, I went over to open the door anyway.  Maybe it was important.  There was a man who wore all black and he looked up at me with wet blue eyes.  He held a red envelope with a gold seal on it.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” He said sadly and he gave me the envelope and a picture of Grandma sitting on a bench with colorful flowers surrounding her.  I had no time to prepare for this, it was, was unexpected.

            I fell to my knees and cried…

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