I LOST THE ONE I CARED ABOUT THE MOST

I was about seven or eight years old. I had on my school uniform; a plaid blue skirt and a white collared shirt with a snap tie that was made to match my skirt. My hair was in a ponytail and it was a little disheveled due to not brushing it all day. My mom had picked me up and we had walked home together today. When we got to the house my mom went upstairs and I stayed downstairs to watch T.V. since I never got the chance to have the T.V. to myself. After about an hour I was beginning to wonder why no one had come downstairs to check on me or take the T.V. from me. I decided to go upstairs to see where everyone was at. So I went upstairs and noticed everyone was in my grandmother’s room. I remember walking into her room and seeing my grandfather just laying there on the bed and he looked like he was in pain .I noticed everyone was panicking. I looked up and saw my grand mom on the phone. At the time I didn’t know who she was talking to but now I figure I was his doctor. I climbed up onto the rocking chair beside the bed and looked at my grandfather’s face, which was not smiling, happy, lighthearted face I was used to seeing. “Pop Pop are you okay?” I asked him. He replied saying “I’ll be fine Jazz, don’t worry about me”, and he smiled at me, but it wasn’t the way he usually smiled. He still looked unsure and like he was in pain. “I love you Pop Pop”. That was the last thing I ever said to my grandfather. The last words he spoke to me were to tell me he loved me too and not to worry. The next thing I knew I was being pushed out of the room and 2 guys came in. Within the next 5 minutes my grandfather was moved from the bed to a stretcher and taken away in an ambulance. I knew something was wrong but I couldn’t figure out what. Everyone left except a neighbor who kept us for the next couple of hours. I remember sitting on the top step and staring at nothing for a long time. I wanted to believe that everything would be okay, as my Grandfather had told me, but I had a feeling that his words weren’t true. The day before my Grandfathers funeral is when they finally told me that he was gone. I already knew. The next day at his funeral, while everyone was crying and carrying on, I went up to see him for the very last time and this is when I realized that I would never hear him laugh, see him see him smile, talk to him, or do anything else with him again. I felt so alone. I had lost the person I cared about the most.