Читать книгу The inner ramblings of a 20 year old. - Rochelle Coley - Страница 4

Every Sunday I went to my Grandmother’s house to visit.

There’s no such thing as perfect, but she was the closest

thing to it in my eyes.

No matter what any of my family members did she was always there for us, she never turned her back. We could’ve committed a murder and she’d still defend us until her last breath.

Two years later and I still visit her every Sunday, the only difference is I can’t see her; I can feel her presence though.

I smile sadly as I lay violet flowers on her grave.

“I miss you more and more each day.”

There’s a boy a few inches over crying his eyes out. My heart aches for the stranger, losing someone you love is never easy. You don’t get over it, you just learn to live with it. I continue my Sunday routine, the boy continues his as well. One day I decided to speak to him.

“Hello.” He looks at me with a shocked expression.

“H-hi.”

“I’ve noticed you come here every Sunday.”