We Had to Make a Few Changes for Grandma's Funeral, Necessary Changes
When grandpa died, everyone cried.
When grandma died, everyone smiled.
“Grandma’s a goddamn bitch,” dad used to curse about her. No one ever said anything against his words that so defiled his mother.
He was right though, grandma was a mean, old woman. That’s something everyone agreed on, even her husband, my late grandpa. I still don’t know how he ended up with her, considering that he was the nicest and jolliest man I ever knew.
Grandma was his total opposite. She wasn’t just a stern old lady, but a sadistic one. She enjoyed beating her children and her grandchildren. That’s why I could never visit her and grandpa.
I remember going there on my own one day. Grandpa led me inside but told me I couldn’t stay for long. I still remember her, how she looked at me that day. The enormous grin on her face, the vile words she whispered my way and the way her hands opened and closed in anticipation.
Grandpa pushed me back towards the front door, telling me it wasn’t a good time. When I protested he told me he’d get me a little present.
The moment he left to return to his living room, grandma rushed towards me.
“Oh, little Mark, how nice of you to visit. Why don’t you come in and spend some time with your grandma?” she laughed at me. With that, she started to pull my arm, pulled it so hard I thought she’d rip it off.
I struggled, but one slap was enough to break all the resistance I could muster. Thankfully, I never found out what she’d planned for me. Grandpa stormed back into the hallway when he heard my cries.
At that moment grandma grinned at both me and her husband before she let go of me. As I hid behind my grandpa I was prepared for him to yell at her, but he didn’t say a single thing. Grandpa was a huge man, a hard man, but in front of his wife, he seemed to be as scared as I was. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word until she was gone, vanished down the hallway.
He handed me my little present and told me to never come back to their home.
The moment I was outside I looked back once and there she was again. At the back of the hallway, staring at me with her wide, reddish eyes, grinning.
Even back then, even at only nine years old, I knew there was something different about her, something evil.
Grandpa died a year ago. His funeral had been big. He was well known in town and well-liked by everyone.
Grandma’s funeral on the other hand had been small, nothing more than a family affair. There’d been only me, mom, dad and Uncle Thomas. It was no surprise that we were the only ones there.
