Forelsket.

Sometimes, I absolutely dreaded the moment my eyes opened up to see a brand new day. Sometimes, I dreaded the feeling that I was still alive. And sometimes, I wanted to sleep forever. I wanted to give myself up to the dream world, stay comfortable and peaceful, un-bothered, for the rest of my live. Sometimes, I tended to think that being dead wouldn’t be so bad – it is essentially what I’d wanted. To be un-bothered, to be peaceful. I was okay with darkness. But, the other half of the time, the light was so beautiful. And I didn’t mind it at all.

However, that day was one of those days where the light seemed more like the devil. It was one of those days where I wished I’d never wake again. It was these types of days that I was just tired. Of hiding, pretending, being scared. That I wanted to just disappear into thin air. I didn’t want to face a single soul that day, but –as my family had this day planned - I’d woken up without a choice to shut my eyes again, and shut the world out. Family day, they’d said. It would be good – Lindsay and I would regret it if we didn’t participate.

Because, one day soon, Grandpa would be gone – and we’d regret every moment we didn’t spend with him. Mom was intent with this day, Dad woke me earlier than normal, saying something about a breakfast – Grandpas favorite restaurant. He told Lindsay not to make any plans and (with a roll of her eyes) she agreed. I’m sure Lindsay could think of a million things better to do, a million things she’d rather do, other people she’d rather be around. But I, for one, had no excuse, no better things, no other people to be around.

I sighed to myself, carefully pulled the covers off of my leg, and took a quick look out of my window before I stood to my feet and stretched. Today, I wasn’t ready for a single thing, and I hated the thought of being stuck an entire day with Grandfather. I guessed that, it was that he wasn’t going to be around much longer, and my mother wanted us to spend the entirety of the day together.

I took my absolute time getting ready, only glancing at myself upon leaving my room. I slowly shut my door behind me, and made my way down the stairs. I took a couple of calming breaths before standing with my family in the kitchen.

“Morning,” I whispered, head down, fingers playing with the hem of my pullover.

“Peanut,” Grandfather placed his heavy arm around my shoulders. As though I hadn’t had enough weight on them already. I contained myself from moving away, shoved my shaking fingers into the pocket of my pullover. “How about af’er lunch we go ‘n get some ice cream?” I glanced up at Lindsay, to see her roll her eyes, cross her arms.

I know what she’s thinking.

It’s always been me. It never changed.

And, I wish I could tell her I was glad it was me, that it wasn’t her. Because, even though we had our differences, and even though she wasn’t too fond of me most of the time, I loved her all the same. And I would never have wanted her to be in the position I was.

I tried on a small smile, and nodded. “Sure, Gramps. Whatever you want.” He hugged me closer, his pot-belly pressing against my own stomach. I nearly felt bile rise up my throat, tears retreat to my eyes. I swallowed both down, with a lump in my throat. He slowly slipped his hands away from my frame, and was careful not to get caught as he grazed the back pocket of my jeans. And, with another lump swallowed, we headed for the restaurant. Another secret stored away, only to haunt me at a later date.

The ride is quiet.

But my mind is racing.

I wish I could have stayed asleep and wake up only when I’m ready to face my demons.



I nauseously watched as Grandfather smuggled food into his mouth, coughing sometimes between bits of the greasy substances. Bacon, eggs, home fries – toast. My dad laughed, placing a hand on Grandpas back, patting him lightly.

“Calm down, old man,” he said, “Guess you were hungry.” Mom laughed, Grandpa only smiled, swallowed his egg whole, practically.

“Ain’t I always?” He said smugly, causing a laughter to rumble from my fathers throat once more. And, as I looked around, it was like Grandpa and everyone left his cancer at the door. Like they had completely forgotten the single thing that was troubling them. But, I had to face my trouble, he was across from me, lurching over a filled plate. My eyes, for the most part, remained glued to my own plate. I never had the guts to look at Grandpa for a long amount of time. I only wanted to disappear – be invisible to him.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

No – not for something like this. Grandfather was always haunting my thoughts.

“You know, peanut, no one is gonna love you as much as I do,” he promised, voice rasped. He looked into my eyes, his hands touched my thighs.

“An’, you know what else? After I’m gone, yer gonna have no one. No one to love ya like I do.” His hands creeped up my shirt, his lips kissed my neck. My eyes water as he lays me on the bed.

“Okay, Peanut,” he whispered, “this ain’t gonna hurt as much as last time.” And it didn’t.

“Lindsay,” My mother tsked, “Do you have to text Tim right now?” I looked over at my sister. Instead of answering my mother, she just rolled her eyes and finished off her text before stuffing her phone back into her pocket.

“Don’t give your mother that kind of attitude,” My dad grumbled, “you know better than to text while we’re eating as a family. Your sister doesn’t – neither should you.”

“Dad-” I stuttered. It happened sometimes – that she got compared to me because I was quiet, and obedient and she, sometimes, wasn’t. She hated being compared to me, though, and I understood that. I didn’t think it was fair to her, either.

“That’s because she has no one to text,” Lindsay spat, crossing her arms over her chest while she sunk into her seat. We left it at that. It was dead silent while we finished up our meals, paid for the bill.

When we left, it was around 11:30 in the morning. The car ride home was filled with Grandpas coughing, Lindsay putting up a fight to go hang out with her friends, and Dad yelling at her. I wasn’t going out – neither was she. And she shouldn’t complain about it because she could wind up no going out for a while.

She turned to me with a glare after Dad said that. “You ruin everything.”

And I tried my best to think of it as just something a sister says – something that doesn’t mean anything. Like, when you and your parents get into a fight and you tell them you hate them. You don’t mean it.

But, looking at Lindsay, with that real harsh glare set onto her face, it was hard to pass the comment off.

So, I whispered, “sorry,” while fiddling with my hands. I doubt she heard it and if she had, she pretended she hadn’t. And that was that.


It was around one in the afternoon when Grandpa slapped a hand to my thigh in the middle of a string of commercials. I jumped, looked up at him, at my mother, my father. Lindsay.

“So, Peanut,” His voice grumbled, “How ‘bout that ice cream?” He gave a warming smile. I swallowed hard, and Lindsay scoffed.

“Sure thing,” I said softly. When I looked back at Dad, he smiled.

“I’ll get you some change, Pops,” My dad said while he stood and went off to find some change. He comes back, hands the change to grandpa. “Have fun.” I watched as Grandpa struggled to get up, and look to my mother, who gives me this stern look, like, ‘help him’. So I stood up and linked my arm through his, helping him to straighten himself out a bit. As we waddled toward the front door with my heart uneasy, I heard Lindsay begin another fight.

“Can I go out now?”

“No.” My dad said simply. Lindsay nearly shrieked.

“That’s so unfair! What am I supposed to do here, while Annaliese and Grandpa go out? I was never a part of that stuff, and you know it.” Was followed by angry footsteps that sounded up the stairs.

“She’s jus’ jealous, Peanut.” Grandpa said when we left the house, “Don’t pay no mind t’her.” I only just nodded, prying my arm away from his. I try my best to keep my distance while we begin to walk down the street, to the familiar ice cream shop. Grandpa talked about his treatment, illness, and told me not to miss him too much when he was gone. He never said he was scared, but I bet he was.

Once we were a minute away from the ice cream shop, Grandpa had managed to get close enough to slip his hand into mine. The grip he had on my hand was harsh, a reminder that he was in control – he still had this kind of power over me. I looked to my feet, bit on my lip. And, before I knew it, I was walking right into someone. I jumped back, managing to snap my hand – finally – from my Grandfathers.

“S-sorry,” I looked up, saw that same friendly face. Blushed. “Oh. Hi.” John smiled back.

“Hi.” I looked down again, my hands shaking. I watched as Grandpas larger hand covers one of my own, takes it once again into his grasp. He squeezed it – hard.

“Who’s this, Peanut?” My blush deepened. John laughed.

“I’m John,” He said, “this is Shane.” I looked up – hadn’t even noticed the younger boy beside him. I tried to yank my hand from Grandpas, but the more I attempted, the more of a grip he placed on me.

“Would ya like t’join us fer ice cream?” I looked at John, and he nodded.

“Sure. We were just about to get some anyways,” he smiled at Shane, “right?” Shane nodded his head fast, and took off into the ice cream shop. John followed behind Grandpa and I.

“So,” John said, “Did you have fun at Jareds?” I just shrugged my shoulders. “Not much of a people person, are you?”

“I guess not,” I shrugged again. And, to be honest, I wasn’t completely sure. It wasn’t that I didn’t like people – I just generally didn’t trust them.

“Well,” John broke a silence, “Don’t worry – not everyone is an asshole.” I nodded, but I was thinking, how could he possibly know? Where did he get his faith in humanity from?

He jumped ahead of Grandpa and I to pay for his and Shanes ice cream, stopped to tell me he was going to sit at the table near the window.

When he was gone, Grandpa lessened his squeeze on my hand.

“I don’ like the way he looks at ya, Peanut,” Grandpa said, “Don’ like it one bit.” I stayed quiet, bit my lip and snuck a glance toward John.

He looked at me?

Even if I wasn’t certain, a boy had never looked at me before. And, if John had, was I on Grandpa’s side?

Grandpa tugged on my hand, causing my attention to snap toward the ice creams that were being held out before us. I took both of ours, thankful to get my hand away from Grandpas, and we made our way over to John, who, upon our arrival, grinned this stupidly … nice grin. I blushed again, handing the ice cream to Grandpa, sitting beside John, who was sitting across from Shane.

“Cheers?” John held up his ice cream to Shane, and I watched as they smirked and touched their ice cream together. Shane turned to me, holding out his ice cream. I almost laughed, touched our ice cream together. John laughed.

“You flirtin’ little man?” My Grandpa grumbled into his half-eaten ice cream.

“No!” Shane whined, “John!” John just looked at me, shrugged with a goofy, innocent smile latched onto his lips.

And maybe, I thought then, I would like it if he looked at me - even if Grandpa didn't.