Change

In the summer of 2003, I was sent to live with my grandparents. I had never met them before; nor did anyone talk about them. My mother would just change the subject and walk away if I asked about anyone in her family. I always thought that was strange, but never thought anything else about it. Now here I am.

Leaving my home and all of my friends felt like a punishment. A punishment for my parents dying. Both of my parents were killed in a car wreck. The statement says my father lost control of the car, causing the car to roll four times; ejecting my parents out of the car and killing them instantly. In my eyes, it didn’t matter how it happened. I lost the two most important people in my life. And now I was losing everything I’ve ever known. Like I said, Punishment.

The taxi pulled up to a large, beautiful two-story home in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. The old, rock house looked like it was built in the late eighteen hundreds. The grand porch wrapped around the immense house. I was terrified. I had seen too many horror movies. Every possible horrid thing that my brain could conjure up, it did. When I stepped out and looked around, all I could see was black. I didn’t know how I was going to do this. I had it in my mind to jump back in the taxi, telling him to go as fast as he could. But it was my grandparents. My mother was perfect; so they had to be ok, right?

Taking a deep breath, I headed towards the massive porch. About the time I took a step on the porch, the porch light flipped on. I jumped; almost releasing a blood curdling scream. A couple that seemed to be in their fifties opened the door and stepped out of the house. I imagine the look on my face was strange, because my grandmother just laughed.

“Oh my goodness child you have grown”. My grandmother said as she rushed towards me.

I really wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do or how I was supposed to act. So I just put on a quick smile and stood very still. Although I was about the same height as my grandmother and she looked much smaller than I was, she felt like a truck hitting me when she grabbed me. She squeezed my neck tight and I found myself with my arms around her like I had done it a million times before. It felt natural.

After my grandmother released me, I made my way upon the porch to meet my grandfather. He was a tall, massive man. He towered over me; making me feel like a small ant. I could see my mother in his eyes; soft blue. He was gentle, carefully hugging me with one arm. His large smile was contagious. I couldn’t help but smile too.

As soon as we walked in the house, it felt like home. For the first time in a long time; I felt safe and happy. My grandfather carried my stuff in the house, leading me to the bedroom that would be mine. I had to stop and stare in every room we went through. The furniture, the paintings, the décor made it seem it I had stepped back in time 300 years. It was amazing. I couldn’t imagine why my mother left and never looked back.

“This was your mother’s room”. He said as he opened the door.

“Wow” was the only thing that came out of my mouth. A huge four poster bed set in the middle of the room on top a large red rug. The large fireplace was in the far corner. The windows had large, beautiful deep red drapes. A vanity sat directly in front of the bed. The room looked like it had never been touched. I walked over to the vanity, rubbing my fingers across it. There were still bottles of perfume and pictures laying in perfect order. I picked up the pictures and looked through them. Pictures of my mom, my mom with her friends, my mom with a man. The man was not my father. I felt a cold chill move down my spine.

I turned quickly to face my grandfather with the picture still in my hand. I could see the tears swelling up in my grandfather’s eyes when I turned to face him. I couldn’t be angry. All I could see was a man that loved his daughter. A man that not only lost her once, but twice. I decided now was not the best time to confront him. I lay the picture back on the vanity.

“You look just like her standing there. I miss her so very much”. He said. He stood there for a few more moments staring at me. Then he walked out, closing the door behind him.

I spent the rest of the evening looking through my mother’s room. Under the edge of the bed I found an old shoe box. Inside were more pictures, some letters, and drawings. I picked up another stack of photos. The first picture was my mother. She was dressed in a red robe. She had dark make-up on and the expression on her face scared me. She looked young; maybe eighteen or nineteen.
The next photo had the man I had seen in a picture earlier in it. His robe was black. He was holding a book under one arm and what looked like a knife in the other. Although something inside me told me something was wrong, my brain rationalized the photos. Maybe Halloween party. Why would anyone take pictures dressed like that unless it was Halloween, right?