"Dahlia, we aren't going to let you play Grand Theft Auto anymore if all you do is run people over."

I heard my brother whine.

I giggled and replied,

"But that's the best part!"

I looked over to see my big brother roll his eyes, who at twelve was just two years older than me but was so tall! Not that I wasn't tall too, but he made me feel like a child, which I vehemently refused whenever anyone called me such.

"Dahlia it's my turn when you lose."

I heard my cousin Neisha say. She was just a few months older than me and we were the best friends, (or as my grandmother called us; the partners in crime of the family)

"Yeah yeah, sure"

I said off handedly as I dodged a police car that was coming after me.

My older cousin Elisa just sat on my brothers chair quietly-as she usually did-and watched us banter on the floor of my brothers room playing the Play Station II, acting as though because she was eighteen she was way to old for this.

After a few more minutes of running from the cops, I finally lost and gave up the control to Neisha.

"I'm going to go get something to drink, I'll be back"

I said as I left the room to go to the kitchen. Just after I had taken a few steps I heard the phone ring. I pretended like I was busy in the kitchen so that my grandmother would answer the phone. When she answered the phone she left the living room to go into her own room so she could speak in private. I ignored her and went back to my brother's room after I had drunk my juice. I sat on the floor and watched Neisha play for a while before I started having this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. A few moments after that I heard a strange sound coming from my grandmother's room.

I looked toward my brother and cousins and whispered,

"You hear that?"

They looked at me and listened for a second and my brother whispered back, "Yeah, it sounds like someone is crying."

We looked at each other puzzled and I announced,

"I'm gona go see what it is."

I walked inconspicuously past the living room and past my grandmother's room where I realized the strange noise was coming from. I peeped a little and discovered my grandmother crying. I was shocked and confused because I had never seen my grandmother cry. She was tough and I mean tough, she was no one to ever cry. I again rushed back to my brothers room and said in a puzzled tone,

"It is Granny, she is crying."

They looked at me confused and said simultaneously,

"Why?"

I sat down and said, "I don't know…"

My thoughts trailed as I thought of a reason why my 'tough as nails' grandmother was crying. My thoughts flew to my blind AND diabetic uncle with his blind wife, and three children who could see. I immediately felt sadness overwhelm me and I said,

"Guys…what if it's Uncle Gerald?"

I swallowed loudly. They all nodded their heads and I saw that this was the conclusion they had come to also. I looked down, and we sat in silence, not playing the game anymore, each in our own thoughts for an immeasurable amount of time. It could have been seconds, minutes or hours, I couldn't tell. I let the grief have me, for sure that there had been a death somewhere, there was just no way my grandmother would cry for anything else. Suddenly I heard knocks at the door. We looked at each other and I we all stood, though I was the youngest of the three, I felt as though I needed to be brave, so I ran to get the door. It was my one of my aunts, who looked aged about ten years since the last time I'd seen her which was just this morning. She looked at me and mumbled a greeting and she walked into my grandmother's room. A few moments later, my other aunt and my sister, (the oldest of me and my brother at age 19) both coming home early from work and they too went to my grandmothers room. They both looked stressed and sad. The pit of my stomach dropped as I went back to my brother's room where I had left my cousins and brother, to tell them about the way everyone looked. I suddenly thought of my mother at work, wondering what state she would be in when she heard the news. I looked at the three of them and said,

"This is bad, I know it. I think something happened to uncle."

We each looked at each other and just sat, waiting for someone to clue us in on exactly what had happened.

After a good while, My two aunts and my sister came to my brothers room and said solemnly,

"Richard and Dahlia, we need to talk to you."

I looked at my brother a little confused. Why only us? If something had happened to my uncle, why not tell me, my brother and our cousin's at the same time. Save them from having to deliver bad news twice. But I didn't ask questions, I just walked to the room-me and my mom's room- that they lead me to. As I walked, I was thinking,

"This is bad, this is very bad. A death certainly."

Me and my brother sat on my bed as my sister stood, puffy eyed at the door and my aunts kneeled down in front of us. They looked at us, both of them teary eyed as they said,

"Richard, Dahlia. Something has happened."

My eleven year old almost stopped.

As I broke free from my reverie I looked around the school. Everyone walked around, unaware that I was coming apart at the seams. I took my arms from around my knees and stood from the bench I had been sitting on. I heard the bell ring, and quickly wiped the tear from my face, and went to get my things from my locker. Here it was, four years later and still wasn't over it.

"I'm pathetic" I though acidly and walked on my to history class.