Elias

| nine |

My movements are planned out.

Every step I take is put into thought and performed with precision.

I watch the effects of my genius.

I watch the life drain from the petals.

Another flower falls, another petal breaks.

I can't control myself.

—𝘌𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘴

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The sky was clouded and the air that filled Ambrosia's lungs that morning was crisp and frigid. The atmosphere was still and promised only sadness that would be expected at a funeral.

Ambrosia shivered pulling the coat that her father had lent to her closer on her body. She half-heartedly listened as the pastor spoke of God and his kingdom, the coming of a savior that would take us away from the suffering of this world.

 He ended his lecture with a word of prayer.

Next was Aunt Annie who spoke of grandmother's life mournfully. 

Grandma Hill started off living on the streets while she attempted to pay for an education. Then she went to staying at her friends' house until she could snag a job. Grandma Hill had gotten pregnant with Ambrosia's father straight out of high school with her boyfriend and struggled to support. 

Luckily, her friend was able to get her a job as a waitress at a local bar. 

Grandmother Hill had always had an extensive knowledge a passion for music, she would always join in an open mic night at the bar, slowly catching the attention of many. She became a well-known singer through the singles she sang at her work. 

After meeting with a scout one-night grandma Hill went on to create beautiful jazz music with the help of her boyfriend a saxophone player.

Who evidently ended up becoming her husband because of the money source.

Grandpa Hill had given her a daughter, Aunt Annie but then left her for better fame and recognition. However, the lonely man only gained a life of cruel injustice and prison.

Grandma Hill stayed content with her passion and soon she was able to build upon and reap the riches of her hard earned success.

Ambrosia thought over these new details on her grandmothers' life. These things that her father never told her. Which was surprisingly odd of him.

Ambrosia's father then went up to speak, and the amount of heart that could be felt from the sorrow in his voice brought her to tears.

"I loved her and looked up to her like anyone would to their own mother..." he paused then continued.

"Through her life, my mother has gained everything through her love of music; and as a child, I remember the nights we would be sleeping on the couch of her friend's house and my mother would sing me lullabies to put me to sleep. Everything that is here in this house is all the benefits of her hard work and love."