My Grandmother's Fairytale (A One Direction Fanfiction)

"I'm sorry for your loss, it was a shock to us all." I knew this was complete and utter bullshit. Even though she was well known throughout the community, most didn't care for her, most just tried to take advantage of her and her money. Poor Grandma Waverly, they all said. Going out only three years after her wonderful husband bit the dust.

Ah, Grandpa, what a wonderful old man. I missed him dearly, a lot, just like I will come to miss Grandma. Sometimes, I thought about grandpa when I smelled beer floating out from a pub I was passing by. It reminded me when a game was on, and he would send beer flying. Oh, how grandma got onto him.

Wait, wait, this story isn't about my memories, it's about my grandmother's. Shaking my head, I turned to give an appreciative, small smile towards the stranger who wondered up to me. I could barely recognize any of them, other than my own mother and father, everyone else's just seemed like a total blur. 

Yet, it was accepted that I seem a bit out of it. After all, my beloved grandmother kicked the bucket as well. My eyes traveled from the strange focal views of people to the black silk of my dress. My feet were slightly sore, but high heels did that to mainly everyone. I couldn't wait to leave this saddened place and forget everything with my story.

Ahh, my story, a magical place filled with romance, terror, and a happy ending. My story was not my own, but it was my Grandmother's. I found the old journal as my Father and I began to pack up her and Grandpa's things yesterday. It's pages dated all the way back to 2012, when she first met my Grandpa, and with each line I read, I could see my Grandma, in her prime, falling in love. With all the baggage that came with love, of course. 

The pages were yellowed, and the book binding weathered and worn. It had been tucked underneath her mattress, which I had found on pure luck. I was wondering the halls I knew so well, when I found my way into their bedroom. The unlevelness of the mattress was all I needed to know something was aloof when I plopped down onto its soft wariness.

"Paisley, the guest have left. It's time for us to go so they can bury Grandma." My Mother's voice was soft as I felt my Father's firm grip upon my shoulder. I hadn't even realized the entire thing was over, and I was just staring into a six foot hole, my Grandma's rotting remains perfectly encased inside of a wooden box, already lowered down. The entire cemetery was deserted. All that remained was the Grave Diggers, and my small family. 

Sighing, I picked up a yellow rose from a vase perfectly placed atop my Grandma's headstone, the seal of it perfectly glossy. Walking over, I tossed the flower into the hole, and watched as it hit the casket with a soft thud.

We were walking away when I heard the shovels dig into the soft mound of dirt next to the burial hole. Slowly, I turned my head, watching as they burried my deceased Grandmother next to her Deceased Husband, my Grandpa. My eyes glanced over bother of their headstones.

Waverly Marie Horan                            Niall James Horan

May 6, 1994 - August 16, 2061          September 23, 1993 - April 10, 2058