Chapter 1:
"They told us the tumor was benign!"
"Please, dear, now is not the time. She only has a few hours left to live." The man put his arm on his wife's back and began rubbing it in up and down motions. Taking a deep breath to help calm herself down the woman, followed by her husband, entered the hospital room, bright smiles apparent on their faces. It was a shame their eyes betrayed them.
"How is she?" the wife asked her brother after taking a seat.
"I can still hear, you know!" the old lady in the hospital bed exclaimed. With a smile, the woman opened her eyes and looked around at the fifteen or so faces surrounding her bed. Once she had inspected each face so that she could never forget it, she moved her oddly clear eyes over to her first-born. "I feel great," she said to her daughter, answering the question as if it had been directed at her.
When the old woman went to sit up in bed the entire room shook as chairs flew backwards, some falling over, and people rushing forward to make sure she didn't hurt herself. As she straightened her posture in the bed mother, auntie, grandmom, and even great-grandmom were heard throughout the room. She held up a hand to show that she was capable of taking care of herself, that she wasn't some impaired woman.
"I know why you are all here," she stated, abruptly changing the atmosphere in the room. Confused, everyone put their chairs back to their original positions and sat down.
"Mother, ple-"
"I am dying," she continued, cutting off her daughter in mid-word. "I don't need some doctor to tell me that, nor do I need it to be hidden from me "cleverly" by my family." She paused for a moment, watching everyone's expressions turn to embarrassment. "You have come to comfort me in my last moments in this world, no? Then comfort me by allowing me to tell a story, my story."
It seemed as though even the air in the room had stopped due to the absence of movement. The old woman moved her hand up to her face to examine her fingernails while she waited for a response.
Then, out of nowhere, a little girl around the age of five came bounding into the hospital room. "A story, a story! Tell us a story great-great-grandma!!" the happy child exclaimed as enthusiastically as she possibly could. The child's beaming face lit up the cold room and changed the mood automatically.
"If it's a story you want, Annabelle, it's a story you will get!" the close-to-death woman replied. "Now have a seat sweetie and your storyteller will begin."