Death

Geneva Khan Ms. Jackson December 1, 2009 Period 4 Death My sister sat down infront of me, holding my cold wet hands. She was gently moving my hair out of my eyes. She always fixes my hair when something was wrong. Tears started to brim over, rolling onto her cheeks, running into her mouth. My sister looked up at me and told me the bad news. My Grandmother had been very ill and something happened to her. It was a tiring day after camp, on July 13, 2006. My parents went away for the weekend just as an escape to relax, but little did any of us know this was going to happen to my Grandma. Joline, my mom’s best friend, and her two sons slept over for one night just to make sure everything would be okay. That morning someone had called our house phone. The ringing of the phone was endless. “Hello'” said my sister. It was silent for a while until I heard a crack in my sister’s voice and saw huge knot in her throat as she walked into her bathroom, I had got ready to go to camp, but didn’t ask my sister what was wrong because I didn’t want to upset her even more! When I got home, Joline was getting ready to go. The hugs and kisses proved that she was really leaving us home. I was sitting down in the living room when my sister came in and took me into our bedroom. The aroma of the warm milk chocolate brownies tickled my nose as my sister walked in the room behind me, made my taste buds jump up and down telling me something was really wrong! My sister never usually made brownies or anything without my mom and I all together, but only when she’s worried she’ll do things independently. My sister sat me down and I saw the tears in her eyes. This was the thing that had made her so upset this morning but I knew she would’ve have told me then. As she held my hand she murmured the bad news. My Grandmother had passed away. As soon as I heard the news a river of tears poured out, as my sister comforted me and held me in her arms. Unfortunately since my parents were away we couldn’t tell my mother. My dad had known but he didn’t want her to break down in the middle of their weekend. I could remember clearly I cried myself to sleep that night as I thought of how about the relationship my Grandmother and I had. The next morning, I was awakened by the deafening cries of my mother. They had reached home late the night before and the next morning my sister and father told her the news. The loose boards of wood screamed as I staggered on them into my parent’s room. My mothers, pale, sorrow skin on her face was as if she wasn’t going to be able to live another day. As I walked in the room I heard my mother saying, “No, no, this cant be! Why hadn’t you told me!” “We didn’t, couldn’t ruin this weekend for you. It was her time to go.” Replied my father in a very lament tone, as we all were in tears.