AN: I am not a big fan of Charlotte. I think she was mean and selfish and a bit of a witch with a B. However she does have a certain depth about her that seems to come from losing her grandmother at such a young age. I think that even though she was mean, she deep down might have been good if Gracie had been alive to teach her right from wrong. So I wrote this it's about when Charlotte first found out her grandmother had died. It's a one-shot and it's pretty short but I'm posting it because looking it over, I think this really descripes the character pretty well.

"I don't remember her very well...She died when I was six...I just remember little snippets...She used to tell me bedtime stories about the sea, Mermaids and things...She was different from anyone else I've ever met...she just had this way about her...Mum said I cried for months after grandma died, I just remember feeling really sad..." = Charlotte Watsford (The Gracie code part 2)

Charlotte looked up from the over-sized picture book that was propped up on her lap, to the grandfather clock which was softly and slowly ticking away the hours until grandma arrived. She hoped it wouldn't be much longer.

Grandma Gracie was the person Charlotte loved most in the world. She was very beautiful in a aged sort of way with full lips and gray hair that had once been black. Her eyes were full of laughter but also sorrow behind that laughter.

Mum didn't seem to like grandma all that much, not that she hated her or anything, they just didn't get along. They weren't close. Why would they be? Gracie was her mother-in-law and her son had died in a car crash two days after Charlotte was born. Without Ralph (Charlotte's father) Mum and Grandmother had nothing in common. Nothing that is except Charlotte.

Charlotte was just barely six years old and looked (Much to her disappointment) a lot like her mother's side of the family. She's always wanted to look like her grandmother. She wanted to be just like her.

Everything about Grandma was deep. As deep as the ocean and Charlotte, even at six years old, was tired of people with good intentions telling her that she was nothing like her grandmother. It couldn't be true could it? They had to have something in common right? They were so close, what was all that stuff people were always blabbing about people who acted just like their best friends? Grandma Gracie was the best friend she'd ever had.

The phone rang and mum picked it up. "Hello, Mrs. Watsford speaking."

Someone said something on the other end that made Mum put her hand to her heart.

"Really? Very sudden, wasn't it?" her voice was nearly a whisper now. "How am I going to tell Charlotte?"

"Tell me what?" Charlotte walked into the room looking up at her mum eagerly. "Isn't Grandma coming?"

Mum hung up the phone without saying goodbye. "Charlotte, sweetheart...Grandma...she died this morning. I'm so sorry, dear."

"No!" Charlotte cried, she fell with her back against the wall sliding down it slowly until her bum touched the ice-cold kitchen titles.

Her mum tried to hug her but Charlotte pulled away and ran up stairs, on the wall were half-finished paintings and drawings that she and Gracie had been working on together. They would remain half finished forever. Even as an older girl, Charlotte would never find it in her to finish them, though she would use what her grandmother taught her about art to make paintings of her own design.

Months passed and slowly the pain grew less. Charlotte stopped thinking about her grandmother as much. Soon she found that the harder she tried to remember her face, she couldn't. She couldn't remember much only this or that that grandmother had said once but not in detail.

The time for crying and mourning passed but the time for feeling alone and lost had only just begun.

AN: What do you think? Love it? hate it? Tell me! Please review!