My Year with Grandma

Bad Day Dreams

A/N: Thank you for spending some of your time in my world. That's all ever wanted for any of my stuff; to share it... So thanks

Dear Journiary,

Today sucked goat-heads. I mean, from sunup to sundown this day was worse than a sauerkraut smoothie with a castor oil chaser. First off, Gram was is a mood. I don't know who peed in her Wheaties, but she was on one for sure. I woke up to loud crashing sounds downstairs. I snuck down to see what it was, and the woman was trashing the kitchen. Like throwing everything to floor. She ripped one of the drawers out of the cabinet and sent it flying across the room when we locked eyes for a split second. One look in those dark blues and I ran out of the house. I had no desire to be at the wrong end her wrath. I made it all the way to the barn before I realized I was still in my pajamas. Jimmy was in there doing whatever he does every morning, so I tried to sneak past him to go see Bojangles. "You're out here a bit early." He says. To which I replied, "Well, Gram was rearranging the kitchen at the moment." He stopped what he was doing and took off towards the house. I don't know if he's really brave or super stupid. But I guess being her son affords him some level of understanding of her moods.

I chatted with Bojangles for a bit before May came by and asked if I wanted to go have breakfast at her house. That was nice. Her son is a good cook. Her daughter gave me some clothes to change into and then May's phone rang. She ran out of the room to answer it and when she was done, she ushered me out the door. Told me to head back to the house and that she'd be up in a little while after she took care of some business in town.

I was on my way back to Gram's house when I heard a cat meowing like it was stuck or hurt or something. I followed the sound to an empty house. I looked towards Gram's from its porch and realized this is the house I could see from my bedroom. The one she said I was born in. It was my parents' house when they lived here. My curiosity had been piqued.

I could hear the cat crying inside, so I opened the door. A black cat came running out of the house and disappeared down the lane. Since my curiosity had gotten the better of me, I went in and looked around. I don't really know what I was expecting, but I don't think I was expecting it to be so clean. Gram said it had been untouched since Mom and I left so I think there should be dust. Lots of dust. But it was spotless, like magazine worthy clean and decorated.

I was careful not to touch anything, but I walked through it looking at the pictures on the wall. I recognized my mother in most of them. Her wedding photo was framed and displayed on a side table, she was in a traditional white, he was in dress denim. My dad. Mother doesn't have photos of him at our house in Reno. She never talks about him at all. All she ever told me, was that he died when I was four; nothing else. He's always been a mystery me. But here are several pictures of him and Mom. She looked so happy in all of them and he looked... that's when I saw it. Mom always said I looked like my father, but I don't look a thing like the man in these photos. There's a resemblance, yes, but this dude is tall, blonde and blue-eyed like Mom. Jude looked more like this guy than I did. I'm short. I have brown hair and black/brown eyes. Why would she lie to me about that? I don't look like my dad at all. There's a story these people aren't telling me.

I was so caught up in the pictures that I didn't hear Jimmy come in. "What the hell are you doing in here?!" he screams. He scared the shiznits out of me. "Get out! You're not allowed in here!" he yells as he dragged me outside by my shoulder. "This is my parents' house, Gram said so." I yelled back. "That means I can come in here whenever I want." Probably not the best choice of words looking back on it because he growled out something about everything belonging to him. He shoved me to the porch and told me to go home. Oh, I'd love to go home right now. Believe you me. I'd love to leave all these idiots with their crazy names and filthy animals! I want to go home. I miss my mom. AND I have a few questions for her now that I've seen those pictures of my 'dad'. I already know Gram won't tell me anything. That whole 'we don't tell each other's secrets around here' crap. Whatever. Supposedly she spent a year here when she was young. Maybe she was already knocked up when she got here. Like me.