Page 8 of Poison Aches

I killed him.

“…and unto dust shall we all return.”

Service has begun. The skinny, funny-looking priest with a long face is talking at the front of the church.

Behind him, the stained-glass windows are dark.

In fact, the entire church is dark… even with all the candles and overhead lights on, it’s still dark.

A few steps down from the front of the church and to the left of the organist there’s a huge picture of Gramps.

He’s smiling from ear to ear.

His familiar soft brown eyes have a twinkle in them, like when he’d wink at me, letting me know that there’s extra ice cream just for me after Grammy punished me for not doing my homework.

I stare at the picture, ignoring the priest.

Three days ago, Gramps was dancing in the living room with Grammy.

He always moved the furniture out of the way and brought out his record player that he apparently won in a med school contest.

He had a huge collection of records, most of them from the 30s and 40s…and the times he said“they were making real music, not this nonsense they are putting out now.”

He'd play different records, pull Grammy into his arms, and they’d dance until I fell asleep in the hallway where I’d be hiding, peeking at them in secret.

They’d dance when the rain was pounding against the roof.

They danced when the sky was dark and littered with bright stars like a painting.

And three nights ago, as the first heavy snow of the season fell, Gramps pulled Grammy close, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and whispered something that made Grammy look up at him with a look that Samuel said wasn’t meant for outsiders, it belonged to the two of them—and they danced the night away.

When the sun rose, Gramps was gone.

Guilt and pain weigh down on me, like a kind of suffocating pressure.

Why did I do it?

Why didn’t I just listen to Samuel…why did I burst the bubble?

Hot, salty tears stream down my cheeks like an endless stream.

I should get in, stand by Samuel and Grammy, but for some reason I don’t think they’d want me to stand there with them.

Not when I’m the reason Gramps is dead.

I’m the one who took him away from the love of his life and his clever grandson.

I clutch the frills of my black dress as tightly as I can.

There’s a chill in my bones that the thick black tights I’m wearing beneath cannot warm.

My heart is thundering so loud, it drowns out the priest’s voice.

I have no mother. Have no idea who my father is. I was abandoned. And now, my grandfather is gone. Who’s next? Grammy? Samuel?

I turn to look at both Grammy and Samuel. One day soon, they are going to leave me too.

Before, it was just a fear. Now, it’s about to be my reality.

---