Blood White

When I was young, my grandmother would tell me stories that never got told. Stories that would float from her tongue, and glide into my mind, painting the most beautiful images in my head. She would tell me one story everyday, giving me time to digest and absorb every part of it. There were five stories she would tell every year, five mysterious stories that all wove together to create one big mystery. A mystery I stopped trying to figure out when she died. A mystery that would shape my life forever.