Worth The Fight ✓

Chapter Twenty Two

QUOTE OF THE CHAPTER:

"Sadly enough, the most painful goodbyes are the ones that are left unsaid and never explained."

― Jonathan Harnisch, Freak

Dedication: @ughemmotions (for her sweet comments)

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I don't resist when he offers to take me home. I barely remember getting into his white car, all the way back home and when he asks me where I exactly live, I describe it robotically. Maybe it's not me but my unconscious mind. I'm still trying to stomach the idea of my grandpa. Dead.

The word stings on my tongue. I can't seem to figure out what it actually means. So, is grandpa gone forever? He can't be. I was going to hug him - I was going to listen to his tales and he was going to call me chick. I've already used past tense. This is the impact death has on you. Even though you believe it or not, you can't shake it off your system.

Death isn't scary. It's just infectious - when someone dies, they aren't the only one. Death is a fire in which we burn, unconditionally and repeatedly. When death occurs, it's not just on someone, it's on everyone that is close enough to be burnt. That explains the burden inside my heart right now. I've never wished for ashes and dust before; but they might be less painful than the heat and fire itself.

I've never lost someone so close to me before. It is because either I don't have many relatives or I don't consider people close to myself. To me, family doesn't mean bloodline; it means care and love. Now, I am so weak. And I'm even weaker to hide my weakness. I remember I was about to collapse when my mind tried to register the idea of my grandpa's death. It was impossible; how could he die? He was old, yes, but he wasn't ill. He was okay. He seemed okay. He'd always tease me that he was going to live longer than me. And I always thought so - wanted to believe it. Because I knew that losing him was much worse than dying. So, I could die myself first rather than witnessing his death. But as always, life has different plans to offer on its plate. Different than what I've expected.

My grandparents married when my grandma was 18 and grandpa was 22. They always said how they loved each other. Well, they were actually arranged by their families, but they said they learnt to love each other. I'd scoff at that; how can you learn to love someone? My grandpa would say you can teach your heart to love as you can teach anything. It's all about determination. I'd admired them, I still do. Because teaching your heart how to love isn't as easy as they claimed it to be. Perhaps it was the condition of their generation. You had no choice but love who you were spoken for. It was the thing; they spoke for you. But it's also odd that divorce rate increased as freedom crept in.

My eyes on the road, I shake off from my deep thoughts when Levi breaks the silence for the first time since we've been in the car, or it's the first time I've ever paid attention. "Where to go next?"

I dart my eyes on the road, immediately recognising the streets and the place. We need to turn right. "Turn right," I mumble with a shaky voice. He does. "It's that one," I say when I spot my home at the corner of the street. As we get closer, I notice there's another car in the driveway. Levi parks the car behind it, and looks at me. "Jack, we can stay here for a while if you want."

I shake my head. I want to go there and face the truth. Then, taking a breath, I push the door open and forcefully let myself out. I can't feel my legs while walking towards the porch, and I realise that I'm about to fall when Levi holds and balances me. "Be strong." His breath brushes my ear but I can't seem to find that strength in me - or the tough girl who has never given a fuck. "Grandma is here," he adds.