My Grandmother and I had then gone back to our small palace. I had watched
her carefully, just in case. She had seemed fine-for the time being.
We walked together to my parents, who were in the study. (Although Grandmother allowed me to wait outside the door, for my parents are not on my list of friends.) She made up a will, you may call it, and left me only a chest of assortments. This partly confused me, for she had always told me that she would leave me everything. But I said not a word, for all I wished for was her, not possessions.
As I was saying, on a parchment she wrote who received what. She had then folded it, placed it in a small shining silver box, and placed the box on her bedside table.
"Suntharise," she had then asked, "shall we walk one last time along the river?" I had graciously accepted, for this had always been one of our favorite things to do.
When at the stream, we had talked of familiar things, as we had always done. Finally we fell silent, and I gazed upon the stream. Its clear waters flowed smoothly over rounded pebbles, and the new mid-morning sun reflected brightly off of the surface. My grandmother had sighed and turned towards me.
"Suntharise, only little time remains, although our love and friendship will last for eternity." She had smiled, but it was impossible for me to do so.
I stood as a stone, not allowing my feelings to show. My heart had wanted me to collapse and weep, but I did not want her to be worrying for me.
"Finally our gaze met, and even though I did not cry out and scream, tears trickled down my face.
"Do not be in fear," I had whispered to her, my voice on the verge of cracking. "I will never forget you." We had then embraced, and sat upon the mossy ground. She had rocked me, whispering lullabys from my childhood. Her arms had then loosened, and I found myself holding our two bodies together alone.
"Tears flowed from my eyes like the stream. I had then sniffed and wiped my eyes away. I then had laid Grandmother down on a soft place near the water of the stream, and kissed her forehead.
"Namaarie farewell," I murmured.
We walked together to my parents, who were in the study. (Although Grandmother allowed me to wait outside the door, for my parents are not on my list of friends.) She made up a will, you may call it, and left me only a chest of assortments. This partly confused me, for she had always told me that she would leave me everything. But I said not a word, for all I wished for was her, not possessions.
As I was saying, on a parchment she wrote who received what. She had then folded it, placed it in a small shining silver box, and placed the box on her bedside table.
"Suntharise," she had then asked, "shall we walk one last time along the river?" I had graciously accepted, for this had always been one of our favorite things to do.
When at the stream, we had talked of familiar things, as we had always done. Finally we fell silent, and I gazed upon the stream. Its clear waters flowed smoothly over rounded pebbles, and the new mid-morning sun reflected brightly off of the surface. My grandmother had sighed and turned towards me.
"Suntharise, only little time remains, although our love and friendship will last for eternity." She had smiled, but it was impossible for me to do so.
I stood as a stone, not allowing my feelings to show. My heart had wanted me to collapse and weep, but I did not want her to be worrying for me.
"Finally our gaze met, and even though I did not cry out and scream, tears trickled down my face.
"Do not be in fear," I had whispered to her, my voice on the verge of cracking. "I will never forget you." We had then embraced, and sat upon the mossy ground. She had rocked me, whispering lullabys from my childhood. Her arms had then loosened, and I found myself holding our two bodies together alone.
"Tears flowed from my eyes like the stream. I had then sniffed and wiped my eyes away. I then had laid Grandmother down on a soft place near the water of the stream, and kissed her forehead.
"Namaarie farewell," I murmured.
