Being Shot

P h o t o #46 - Ebony Locks

My grandmother never wore her nightgown during daytime hours, even if she was sick.

My heart jumped into my throat as I moved to her, my hands immediately on her back as I dumbed soothing circles into the cloth cover her aged body. I gave light taps against the back of her rib cage every so often, checking to make sure she wasn't blue in the face, indicating choking.

For a long, agonizing moment, my grandmother's proceeded, never seeming to let up. I was almost take aback once they abruptly did so, the sound of her raspy voice scaring me out of the racing thoughts that plagued my mind for obvious reasons.

"Thank you, dear," She croaked, her tired voice bringing unwanted tears to the corner of my eyes. I willed them away, knowing that during my first year here, when her new medicine was taking its time making its way into her system and her coughs more prominent, that the many times I had cried due to anxiety at the thought of losing yet another person in my life she would angrily tell me not to kill her off so easily.

I guess I still couldn't break the habit of working myself up over these things.

"Would you mind picking up those pills for me?" Her frail, bong finger pointed to the unfamiliar, white pills coating the ground.

I nodded wordlessly, diving to the ground from the bed and, with trembling hands, grabbing the transparent orange bottle that had rolled off to the side and filling it with the medication.

I shook my head as I continued cleaning, "They gave you new medication, didn't they?" I couldn't help the disdain lacing my voice. They knew my grandmother was getting up in age, her immune system alright failing her, and yet they still insisted on swapping her medication. Even if I had no extensive knowledge on these kinds of subjects, I knew what I saw, and what I saw was her suffering.

My grandmother smoothed her cotton gown, "I'm alright, Emma, you know how it was last time they changed my medication. I'll get used to it in no time." She looked my way, her brown eyes glassy, "Don't you go easily killing me off again, girl."

I hid behind my thick ponytail, the chunk of hair now frizzed and loose due to my frazzled movements before.

A puff of low air fell from my grandmother's mouth, "I've an appointment with my doctor after Christmas, don't worry. I'll talk to him about my symptoms, okay?"

I capped the medication bottle and set it on her dark wood nightstand, taking no time to gently, yet forcefully, through my arms around her thin shoulders. I swallowed hard, fat tears threatening to spill down my puffy cheeks, "I'm not going tonight." I stated through a shaky voice, eyeing the dress I had discarded in the doorway as soon as I laid eyes on my grandmother.

I could feel her return my hug lightly, her grip weak, "Don't you dare, Emma Maria Leighs." She pulled me by the shoulders away from her in order to look me in the eyes, "You better not miss this opportunity. You've finally, truly made friends since coming to live here with me. I'm so, so proud of you." Her veiny hands tightening around my shoulders, her skinny arms quivering, "If you miss this party for an old woman like me, I swear I'll never forgive you for this one."

My head shook before I even had time to form a coherent sentence, and her eyes sharpened, "I mean it, Emma. This is a chance for you to better yourself, my dear, and if you don't snatch it right up then I won't be happy."

She raised a finger and wiped a stray tear just before it had time to create a track down my cheek. I hadn't realized that I forgot to hold back my tears as I focused in on her voice, "So just go have fun for me, okay?"