Maddi Douglas Written age 13 The Keys to Life I always loved my Grandpa. I loved him more than my grandma, more than my aunt, uncle, maybe even more than my own parents. That's why it hurt me so much, cut me like a knife, that day when I saw him beside the piano. His eyes stared up at me, not blank, not staring, not anything else that the storybooks designed for children say, but still dancing with the leftover cinders from the fire that used to burn so strongly inside his soul. He had never seemed like the kind of man who would die; I never considered that his merry dance through life might end, but it had. Instead of running, I sat slowly on the stool, gently taking hold of his lifeless fingers, imprinting his face forever on my memory. I gently sang his favourite lullaby, my vision fogging over as the tears prickled my eyes, splashing onto his face. I don't know how long I sat for, rocking, and humming to myself, but my grandma came through eventually, chatting happily to my mother... Until she saw the corpse. Her glass of whisky crashed to the ground, shards of glass flying in an explosion of chaos. I didn't hear it, not really, a dull clatter and a faint screaming, but reality was slowly fading away. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling, not really seeing it. I sat bolt upright, and told myself sternly, 'Kianna, you're being ridiculous. Snap out of it!' Everybody told me I had such potential, what was I doing, wasting my life behind closed doors? One last attempt then. I would try, one last time, to contact him even if just to say I loved him, or to ask why he had left, and then, this miserable chapter in my life could close forever. I wandered through, outside of my bedroom for the first time in months, smiling blithely at my parents' shocked faces. They were preparing to go out, fixing ties and powdering noses. Of course, they couldn't stay with me, my mother's promotion could count on this company dinner. A last hug, a final glance of wonder cast back at me, and they were gone for the night. I gently pushed open the door and it creaked. Nobody had stepped in here since that day, and a thin blanket of dust had descended over everything, casting a dull, dim light. I gently blew the dust from the top of the piano, brushing the cobwebs away with my shaking fingers. Lifting the lid, I fancied I could still smell the scent that clung to my Grandpa, like tobacco smoke and fresh air. I knew what I had to do. If I could lie, like he had, be as close as was possible to his last breathing moments, surely I could talk to him, finally see the face that I had loved so much, just one more time... I laid myself down, the musty smell of the carpet penetrating my nose. He didn't come. I had been fooling myself, and deep down I had known that nothing would work. The realisation finally dawned. He really wasn't coming back. I felt oddly calm, everything was out of the way, and I could start my life again. Go back to school, talk to old friends, and continue leading my life. Finally I knew. Finally I possessed the keys I needed to go on. |
