When I was a kid, my grandmother died. While she was lying on her death bed, she told my mother to give me the fancy, vintage mirror in her bedroom as a way to remember her by. I bet she always kne...
"Come on, sweetie, don't you want to see your grandmother one last time?" My mom whispered to me and took my hand like I was three, she also said it like there was no hope in the world for my mama. Then again, maybe it was crazy to think there was hope.
My mother pulled me into the cold, white, sterile hospital room. It was cold in here, but then again I guess the feel of death isn't very warm. My grandmother looked smaller then usually, almost bald, and her skin was a sickly white color. That's what cancer does to you. She was covered with a nice, warm, fuzzy home blanket and looked up at me with dull eyes.
I ran over to her so fast, that my mother couldn't stop me. "Mama!" I cried, the tears blurring my vision. My mama took my hand as I tried to hug her and that's when I felt her tiny, sick little heart give out and her last breath.
Beep, beep, beep....beeeeeeep.... The heart monitor told us she was gone, lost to us forever. I fell back as a nurse came in and rushed past me, grabbing my grandmother's wrist up to check for a pulse.
The black nurse in all white looked up with hurt in their eyes, and just whispered, "I'm sorry."
When we got home, my eyes still filled with tears from two hours before, my mom asked me to come to her room. I wanted to run up into my light purple room, with white Christmas lights draped over the ceiling, windows, and the bed's back-board. But I couldn't. I had to go to my mom's room.
I sluggishly pulled myself into her room, and saw her standing next to and old mirror. It was black, and had a nice, decorative frame. it was a stand up mirror. "This was your grandmother's. She wanted you to have it." My mom ran a finger over the frame, and made a disgusted face at all the dirt that had collected on her finger-tip. "Do you want help getting it up stairs?"
Knowing that if my mom packed it up there she wouldn't leave, I shook my head and picked up the antique mirror and began dragging it out of her room.
"Be careful! It's old!" I heard my mom call, but I deliberately ignored her. When I finally got it up to my room, I sat it turned sideways inside a corner near my bed. It complimented my room, and was a piece of my grandmother. I loved it. Now, I have something to remember her by.
I was just thirteen and for some reason, all of these things were just starting to mean something to me.
After dinner, it was time for me to get some sleep. I was super tired and tomorrow my mom and dad had to plan my grandmother's funeral. Something I wish I could sleep through, but apparently they wanted my input.
I undressed and slid into my Hello Kitty pajamas and then into my bed, and under the nice huge, star themed sheets. My body immediately became heated and warm, I smiled and let my eyes shut.
A few hours later I heard some shuffling, and moving around. Was my mom in my room again!? I sat up, rubbing my eyes, and right when I was about to yell out, I opened my eyes and saw a dark, naked figure dancing around my bedroom floor. It was pale, doused in blood, with black shaggy hair and black wings.
It twirled and moved it's body in odd ways, dancing gracefully around the room, it's wings beating the air. My eyes widened and I gulped, fascinated and in enchanted. I have always been a very imaginative little girl, with an open mind. I believed in other worlds, angels, demons, heaven, hell... It all fascinated me.
I sat up more and let my eyes widened further. The dancing figure stopped and looked at me. "H-Hello?" I whispered.
It looked like a young man, with hazel eyes. He smirked and turned and vanished into the mirror. I gasped.