chapter twenty-two

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Zcyhie Elizabeth's POV

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Zcyhie Elizabeth's POV

I woke up from the delightful smells wafted through the summer air as the sound of birds and the tinkling of wind chimed. I walked towards the rows of flowers that were pretty much overgrown, taken over by the other, bigger plants; they were attention grabbing.

I scanned the hedges, flower bushes, and shrubs that reached for about I think four feet high, but this was unusual, and perhaps unique to this garden.

My eyes furrowed the moment I saw my grandfather walking towards me. I waved my lawn tennis rocket up in the air. "Hey, old hag!" I shouted, smiling widely at him. I met his eyes. The corner of his lips formed a smile, he stepped closer.

I hugged him tight. "Hey little Zcyhie!" he yelled back. "Stop calling me, old hag," he added as I pulled away from him.

He flashed a quick smile as he slowly pinched my right ear. "O-ouch! Gramps! Cut it!" I paused for a while, rubbing my ear. My eyes blazed with annoyance as I eyed him.

"I'm still young!" he said, crossing his arms. He sat on the rock like designed chair, beside me.

I pressed my lips together and exclaimed, "That damn hurts!"

I sneezed the moment my nose smelled the pure old fashion roses... some have citrus notes, some were not scented at all and to confuse my nose even more, the sweet briar rose has apple scented leaves added its own dimension of fragrance to the garden.

A line appeared between his brows, his brows knotted and asked, "Can you stop cussing?"

"And why would I?" I pressed my lips, eyes squinting. "Well, its hard to stop when you're already used to it," I added, scratching my head, placing my lawn tennis down the floor.

He snorted, offering me a small red box. "Open that box."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "What the fuck is this?" I asked, my nose crinkled.

This year my garden was filled with the sounds of birds chirping. This year there were bird nests - filled with baby birds - all over the property.

It was not always like this.

"Obviously, a locket," he uttered. You got me there, Gramps. I shook my thoughts off.

"Are we still in the medieval period or the classical one?" I asked. He scrunched up his face, his faced turned crimson. "This looks old like time itself," I whispered, giggling.

I met his eyes. From beamed of playfulness, it turned into a glimpse of sadness. "It's from your grandmother," he said.

"Oh! That's why-" I muttered, laughing to ease the atmosphere, - "Ouch!"

He pinched my ears once again, but sadness overtook his face and said, "I could clearly remember how I kneeled in front of your grandmother."

After I sanitized my hand, I placed my palm near my mouth. A thunder stuck into my mind.

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