Splinters: Part One

Part One | 47

"Do you know how he did it?"

It didn't hit me as hard as I thought and I was thankful for that. "No. And I don't want to know."

"Neither would I."

I was quiet for a moment before I decided to tell her about my grandma. "The hardest thing I ever had to go through wasn't even finding out about my dad."

"It wasn't?"

I shook my head, turning on my blinker to indicate I was taking the exit. "Seeing my grandma die was probably the worst."

She stayed quiet, basically telling me that she was really interested.

"Her body went crazy," I began, "and her eyes went behind her eyelids and that really scared me."

I tried to pay close attention to the road as small flashbacks came into my head, taking over my vision for a small instant. It had been years since I let myself remember the day she died.

"And I kept screaming at her to stop, because obviously, eight-year-old me didn't know what else to do." I licked my lips. "And I couldn't reach the phone from where it was left because I was probably two feet tall back then, thank you puberty," I added, trying to make the story not sound so dark even though it was exactly that. "So I had to go to the neighbor's and ask them to help."

"Where is she?"

"She's in there," I pointed to my house, the front door left wide open.

"My grandma always told me to never leave it open. Ever. But I was too scared and panicked to pay attention to the strict rule of keeping the front door closed," I told her.

The man who opened the door was approached by his wife, her hand on her shoulder. "What's the matter?"

"Gail's hurt. Call the police."

Collie's hand squeezing mine took me out of my flashbacks, letting me know that I could turn left, too.

"Next thing I know, I'm at the hospital. I was there for what felt like forever until she died and two women dressed in black took me to the police station to figure out what they'd do for me."

Collie was watching me now. "How'd you end up at St. Anne's?"

I sighed. "I'm not really sure. I think she knew the sisters there and had written in her will that if anything ever happened to her, call them to take me." I took a deep breath. "My grandma was completely and utterly against foster care."

"Who isn't?"

I shrugged. "So after that, I went to St. Anne's for the first time and became one of them."

"Did you know your grandma was dead?"

I nodded. "They didn't have to tell me."

"I'm sorry, Brayden. That must've been so traumatizing."

I tried not to get angered by her apology. One, she might really mean it. It might not just be pity. And two, what else could she have said?

I shrugged, stopping at another red light. Shit happens, I thought. I blinked, a little surprised I swore in my head.

"It's kind of weird," I smirked, no happiness to it at all now that we were on a serious conversation. "Moms are supposed to be all motherly and stuff and it was my dad the whole time. And then after that, it was my grandma. I know I say Melissa's my mom sometimes, because I guess she is, but I never felt like I really had a parent until I was with my grandma."