“Steph, can you come down here, please?” My mom’s voice echoed up the stairs. “I’m coming.” I shouted back down. I took the steps two at a time. “What?” I asked her. She was sitting on the couch, legs crossed. My eye sight swept the room quickly, scanning for something I might have forgotten to do. I noticed Dad wasn’t in the room. “Where’s Dad?” I asked absent-mindedly. “He’s with Grandma.” She answered. “Okay? Is something wrong?” “Sit down, Stephenie.” Oh, no I thought to myself this isn’t good. “Your dad and I should have told you sooner.” she started but I cut her off. “What should you have told me? What’s going on?”
“Let me finish and I’ll tell you.” I quieted down but the anxiety was starting to overwhelm me. “Your Grandmother has been sick for awhile now, and…” she trailed off. “Is she okay?” My mom didn’t answer. “Mom, is she okay?”Anger tainted my voice. My eyes began to sting and tears soon filled my eyes. “Your dad’s at her apartment.” “Is there anytime left?” I asked through sobs. “The doctors said there’s less than three days.” Her arms suddenly wrapped around me. I leaned into her and just let the tears pour down my face. I felt her shirt become wet. I leaned up again, not wanting to ruin her shirt. “Can we please go see her?” I asked. “I just have to tell your brother about your Grandma and then we’ll go meet your Dad there.”She answered. “Why don’t you go get changed?” “Okay.” I stood up and walked up the stairs rubbing my eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling.
As I was walking up the stairs, I heard my mom call “Jonathan, come down here.” My brother came out his door and started to run toward the steps. I flung my limp blonde hair in front of my face so he didn’t see me crying. He stopped and asked me “What did I do?” I looked at him and forgot to cover my face and saw my hair float back into place. He gasped. “What happened to you?” “Nothing, just go see Mom.” I continued up the stairs and I saw him out of the corner of my eye shrug and bounded down the stairs.
The Phone Call
When I reached my room, I flung myself onto my bed. I shoved my face in my pillow and cried as hard as I could. Why, God, why does she have to die? I thought furiously to myself. I was acting like a two-year old. I wiped my eyes, again, and went to my mirror. My hair was so tangled and knotted. I picked up my hair brush started to attack my hair. I got so frustrated at one knot that just wouldn’t come out. I took my brush and threw it as hard as I could at the mirror….
I awoke from my daydream. A small tear trickled down my face. I wiped it away with a furious motion of my hand. I watched as my grandmother’s casket was lowered into the ground. Jonathan pulled my arm backward. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go.” I walked with him back to my family’s mini van. I listened to my high heels click against the road. My family rode back to our house in silence. When we finally go into our house, the phone rang. My brother was the first to reach it. “Steph, it’s for you.”
I grabbed the phone. “Who is it?” I mouthed to him. He shrugged his shoulders. I rolled my eyes. Thanks you’ve been a terrific help. “Hello?” “Hi, honey bell!” said a frail, old voice. There was only one person in the world that called me honey bell, my grandma.
“Who is this? This isn’t funny.” Tears started to fill my eyes. “It’s me, Grandma.” “But your dead, how could you be calling me?” “In Heaven, sweetie, anything can happen.” She laughed her musical laughter that I remembered from when I was little. “Why did you call me then?” “Stephenie, I know you’ve been mad at God for a long time since I died, but you have to listen to me, I’m happy here, you know I love you. So, please let me go. I’ll see you again. Don’t worry. I have to go now. Goodbye honey bell. I love you.” At this point, tears were pouring over my face. “Goodbye Grandma,” I said. “Wait, what if I want to talk to you again?” “Goodbye honey bell.” The line then went dead. “Goodbye Grandma.” I whispered to myself