If Only

d to grow heavier with every passing moment. My heart sank at the mention of my grandparent's hous

hoping that maybe it wasn't

the walls, the roof is leaking, and some of the windows are broken. I did

arent's home falling apart was almost too much to bear. It was the one

s? Can I handle facing the world and all of the pain and uncertainty it holds? Can I bear to see what has become of the house where I made so many preciou

I I don'

, looking at where I am, patiently w

. She didn't pressure me to make a decision or say anything to sway me one way or the oth

oice quivering with fear and uncertainty. "I don'

enveloped me in her arms, holding me

my wounded heart. "You don't have to do anything you're

s' house haunted me, and I couldn't help but wonder what had become of it since their passing. Would

nherit the house and all its memories. But what had I done to protec

e, and I couldn't help but ask

said quietly, my voice

t of facing the remnants of my grandparents' home was daunting, but I c

r a moment, she seemed to hesitate. But the

be right there with you.

pillar of strength, but even she couldn't erase the pain and emptine

el grateful for her unwavering support. She was the only one I had left in th

*

on, but I couldn't bear the thought of letting go of the only thing left of my grandparents. Besides, in

ay, so I grabbed a random white shirt and my old black jeans. I tied a red bandana around my head out of habit, somet

s my

didn't look as pretty as it used to when I had long hair. Should I take it off? But Glenda was already kn

*

t. Leaving the house was something I never thought I would do again. My mom stood by m

world after being c

was truly outside. Stepping onto the stone path, I was greeted by the brick stone fountain at the center of the cu

ain. The water seemed to flow endlessly, always circling back to where it started

to clean up my grandparents' old house. I didn't want to fee

tools filled my nostrils. It was a strange se

y grandparents were no longer with us. It was just me, my mother, and

ike I had made a terrible mistake. What was I doing here? Outside of the safety of

thick and oppressive, making it hard to breathe. The world around me

y voice failed me. They were nowhere to be seen

against the chaos of the store. I stumbled towards it,

ng into someone else. I felt their chest against my face a

umped into said, to wh

I tried to apologize, but my words were cut

fter her, feeling like I had made a

back at the boy who had helped me. He was cleaning up t

about was how clumsy

*

re if I wanted to continue walking. As the gate opened, the house loomed before me, designed to look like a narrow lot house despi

ed me to the entrance of the house proper, which was only a few yards away from the gate.

disturbing the peace of the house I used to love. The thought re

d in from behind me, causing me to jump slightly. I r

handler was probably 18 or 19, but I couldn't remember. He gathered all our stuff from Glenda, his hair slightly outgrowing on his face, framing his s

aintain the house, the person who had stayed behind while

familiar warmth and joy that used to fill the air were now absent, replaced by a hollow chill that echoed through the em

ent. The memories of my childhood flooded my mind, memories of running around the house, exploring every nook and cranny, asking

ality of what had happened. The house was in shambles, left to decay without anyone to tend to it. The guilt and shame

urging me to come inside and help with the chores. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was wo

andparents, who had loved this place with all their hearts. As I looked around the empty rooms, I realized that the only way to ho

, ready to face the pain and

if I abandoned their legacy and

er were already busy sweeping and dusting, but I couldn't find it in myself to join them. Instead, I w

rker and narrower, and dust had accumulated on the floor. My hand reached out to twist the knob, almost against my will, and I push

my Gramps had

on a music shop. I fell in love with one of the pianos, and Gramps couldn't be more supportive of teachi

t here and played passionately, losing myself in the music with my grandfather. Now,

streamed down my face. My mother's voice calling my name broke me out o

omething to do, anything to avoid the piercing gaze of my mother. The music sheets strewn across the room

the air like a knife, slicing op

e said, her eyes wandering around the roo

his room, once a source of joy and comfort, now felt like a prison. Memories of my grandf

f with the dust-covered Grand Piano. I ran my fingers over the cloth

you sort thing

remained a constant presence in my life, always willing to help even when I didn't deserve it. I w

nd placed them neatly on the shelves, my

of the piano contests I had won as a child,

istant and hollow, empty shel

ache. Despite my mistreatment of her, she had never given up on me. Tears pricked at the cor

e a whisper. "Thank you." The words felt i

t a little lighter. Together, we worked to clean the room that had once been my sanctuary, and

*

carpet in the expansive living room. The house was far too large for just the two of us, a habit my father had inherited from my grandfather, who believed t

couldn't help but wonder why we even bothered with such a large house. It was as

past few months. I had spent my days cooped up in my room, lost in my own world of pain and anguish. Today, however, I ha

few items that she needed to put away. I offered to help her, but she declined, insisting tha

o the backyard, and the thought of doing so now was both terrifying and exhilarating. As I made my way outside, I felt a rush of

y mom's bag that she left on the ki

ckyard. The sliding doors weren't that smooth to

reezing my whole body. I stepped out of the door and star

months seemed to dissipate as I took in the l

As I gazed around the backyard, my eyes fell on the trees my grandparents had planted years ago. They looked forlorn and forgotten, the

ing leaves. It was a habit I had developed over the years - apo

s. I gagged, trying to suppress the cough that threatened to escape my lips. The smell

d it - a hissing noise that sounded like someone was spraying something. The sound

ate that led to the outside world. As I appro

ldn't be doing this, but my curi

s spray painting the walls with reckless abandon, his movements fluid and confident. I watched in horror as he defaced the pristin