Lynndee Kirk

English 1010
Dr. Haslam
Flash Narrative Rough Draft

Amelia, a bright and bubbly seven year old, anxiously shifts in her car seat, pressing her
hands on the glass and staring at the endless row of pine trees and misty air passing her by. It
was springtime in Spokane, Washington. She kicks her heels into the back of the driver’s seat,
until her mother turns and gives her an exasperated glance. Amelia suddenly stops. “Are we
there yet?? How much longer?” she cries. Her grandmother, sitting next to her mother, spins
around, looking up from her magazine. “Patience, my dear,” she gently reminds her. “Just about
ten more minutes from here, and then we’re also picking up something to eat on the way.”
Amelia shoots up in her seat. “Ten minutes?!? I’m gonna DIE if I have to wait any longer!!”

They eventually arrive at the house, right on the side of the road at 827 Sims Lane.
Amelia is the first to hop out. She shrieks with excitement, dropping her bags and neglecting her
suitcase in the driveway. She runs up the concrete steps, not before glancing at the shady tree in
her granny’s backyard, watching it sway in the wind and then seeing a robin land on its wiry
branches. “Wait, honey, come back and grab your-” the screen door slams shut. She goes
through the entryway into the kitchen, looking around. Everything is just as she remembered,
just like last time. The same marble-toned floor, the same fruit magnets on the refrigerator, the
open window reflecting a faint glow onto the counter. She slowly makes her way to the living
room, the plants, the chairs, the curtains drawn back from the open window allowing a firsthand
glimpse into the quaint and tranquil neighborhood. Then suddenly, she sees her, a shining ray of
a lady, making her way towards her. “Granny!!!” Amelia rushes towards her and engulfs her in
an embrace. “Oh, sweetheart, how are you?” says her granny. “I’ve been good, really good!”
says Amelia, breaking out in a huge grin.

Amelia loved her granny’s jewelry box - an array of shining pearl necklaces,
rubies, and emerald and diamond broaches. Even after her mom and her grandma spent
hours reorganizing it, detangling everything and making sure it was all in order, her
granny paid no mind when she came in, jumbling up everything again, taking things out
and putting things out of place, and moseying around. Amelia’s mom was angry. Her
granny, however, laughed it off and said over and over again, “It’s fine, it’s alright. She’s
having fun. Let her explore.” As Amelia tried to carefully clean up the jumbled mess,
Granny says, “Aww, my sweet girl, always playing and creating.” The same thing
happened when Amelia wanted to tape all of her doilies and yarn creations together and
make a fun “project”. Her mom was furious, but in granny’s eyes she could do no wrong.
Her granny always wanted Amelia to enjoy herself, and she never, ever raised her voice
at her or scolded her. Amelia would visit granny in the early morning, when only she
could bear her being up at that hour. Granny filled her mind with kind words and advice
that she would never forget. She would tolerate her coming in to visit, turn on the tv, and
sit in her bed with her. She would sit in her granny’s closet, fascinated by all of the silk
dresses, blankets, the collection of purses and shoes and shirts and pants, all neatly folded
and tucked away, until she came in, of course. The feeling of the toasty sun as she sat at
the breakfast table and ate oranges with granny while looking at her collection of papers
and mail on her kitchen table is something she would always remember. Being outside in
granny’s backyard on a warm spring day, with the friendly neighbors and even the feisty
rottweiler next door is something that wouldn’t leave her mind. Her Granny looking at
her from her bedroom window and shouting, “Oh, sweetheart, are you having fun? Be
careful! I know you will.” Even going to the community pool with granny, her mom and
her grandmother was unforgettable. She loved the water so much, especially when her
granny was there to enjoy it with her. Even after it got shut down, the memories stayed
with her forever. The littlest details - the laundry chute in her bathroom, the cat in the
basement, the cute weather monitor on top of the television set downstairs, the colorful
couch, the bookcase in the room Amelia stayed in while she was there, these were things
that would take up space in her mind.

Amelia walks down the hallway, a collection of Granny’s old medical study
books in her hand. She eagerly releases them all down on her bed with a loud thud, and
although her seven year old brain can barely comprehend what all the books were catered
towards, she enjoyed skimming through them, anyway. She finishes the dictionary of
common medications for the third time, when she hears Granny’s footsteps through the
threshold. “Oh honey, do you like reading my old books?” she says with a chuckle.
Amelia smiles and scoots over to make room for Granny to sit with her. “You know, I
used to work at St. Luke’s hospital for years.. I was their medical librarian. I knew almost
every book in that library. Anything people would request, I was able to find, just like
that!” she exclaims. “So.. did you help a lot of people.. with the books you would give
them..?” Amelia asks. Granny sits back and smiles, recalling her experiences. “Oh,
sweetheart, all kinds of people would come in. They would come up to me and ask me
for information on all kinds of topics. I once helped this young lady who came in, a bit
anxious, and wanted to know more information about the early stages of breast cancer.
She had just gotten diagnosed. I helped guide her to the right section, and I gave her not
one, not two, but five books on it! Including resources to help her feel her best after
recovery, and what it would entail. I also comforted her when she confided that she was
nervous about getting surgery. I told her, just imagine the life you have the potential to
live.. don’t worry about the future, just be present in the now.” Amelia thought about this.
Granny often told her similar things about worrying when Amelia would get overly
anxious and excited. Her advice always calmed her. And in that moment, Amelia hoped
 that the young woman in the library felt the same warmth that she often felt from her
Granny. That was how Granny was, full of light and positivity.

Granny’s health gradually worsened the older she got, and she lost her mobility more and
more in the years that passed. It went from walking with a limp, to a walker, to not walking at
all. “Granny is doing the best she can right now”, her mom would tell Amelia. Amelia would
visit her and granny would be in bed most of the time. She never lost her shining personality,
though. She could light up a whole room with her grin, and her sense of humor was never stifled.
She radiated so much positivity, and extended love and appreciation to all she knew. Amelia
would draw granny pictures, which she would hang up in her room. She wanted to cheer her up
as much as possible. Her mom and grandma began watching granny closer and doing things to
help her out. They would clean her bathroom and kitchen for her, mopping her floors, organizing
shelves, making life a little more bearable for her. One day, Amelia went into her bedroom, and
gave her the last drawing she would ever give her. She had spent hours drawing pretty fairies and
lollipops, and making them extra neat and colorful. “Look, granny, look what I made you!”
exclaimed Amelia. Granny slowly opened her eyes, and Amelia watched them light up right
before her. “Oh, sweetie, I love this. Here, go grab some tape and hang this right where granny
can see it.” Amelia went into the kitchen, grabbed the scotch tape, and hung it so that when
granny opened her eyes in the morning, it would be the first thing she would see.

Seven years later, Amelia cautiously enters the front room, like she has done many times
before. She sees the pictures, the furniture, the sunlight, the plants, everything is as it was before,
but one thing that has entered fresh is the eerie silence. She enters the bedroom. Her bookcase,
television, pictures on the wall, neatly drawn curtains, everything is there, but the bed is empty.
Amelia sits down on the edge of the soft bedspread, holding back her tears. She wasn’t able to be
at the hospital the night she passed away. She closes her eyes, and for a split second she can
almost feel the hand of granny on her shoulder, comforting her, letting her know that everything
is going to be alright. Amelia opens her eyes, and suddenly she feels a huge burden slip off of
her spirit. She smiles. And she imagines granny smiling with her.