In Love & Death

Sitting around the large oak table, I watched my grandpa show my five-year-old cousin a simple magic trick. He had been doing the same magic show for an hour now, yet little Marinda seemed thrilled each time he performed the trick.

As Grandpa made the small golden coin disappear, Marinda turned to me with a wide, gummy smile. "Did you see that, Helena?" Marinda squealed in excitement as she rushed towards her mother, causing her golden, almost orange locks to bounce. Grandpa sighed as he took a seat beside me at the table.

"You used to love that trick, too, Helena." Grandpa winked.

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the small coin from his hand with a smirk. "Yes, that was until I figured out how to do the trick for myself." To prove my point, I too made the coin disappear, much to Marinda's excitement. Marinda excitedly told her mother that I now had Grandpa's power, as a small hand grasped my shoulder.

Gazing at the soft wrinkled hands of my Grandmamma, I felt warmth spread through my body as she gently gave my shoulder a squeeze. Moving my gaze from her hand to her face, her eyes seemed to sparkle with a hidden message.

Smiling, I gently squeezed her hand. Giving it a small pat, I motioned to a seat nearby. "You should be sitting."

"And you shouldn't be daydreaming, Helena." She laughed before coughing.

Nodding, I stood from my seat before helping Grandmamma down and onto the bench. Grandmamma was ill, and with each passing day, I couldn't help but notice her getting weaker. I worried about what life would hold without her. She was the only mother figure I had. After my parents' death, not long after I was born, my grandparents took me in without a single thought. If it wasn't for them, I would be stuck in the foster system.

Playfully slapping my hip, Grandmamma laughed once more. "Are you thinking about that boy again?"

Trying to hide the smile at the mere thought of him, I nodded. "Yes," I whispered.

Since I was eight, I had been having these strange dreams. I would wear these beautiful ball gowns as a young man would call out lovingly. When I thought about him, I always felt like I knew him. He was someone I yearned to see in my dreams, and I often found myself falling into dreamland just to see him.

The dreams started tame, nothing too weird happening, although as I got older, they became worse and more frequent. For the past three nights, I have dreamed of this man getting shot before my very eyes. I'd watch him fall to the ground before calling out my name. Even now, as I thought about it, I could feel the sheer horror seep within my skin.

Clasping her hands together, Grandmamma sighed. "Maybe it's someone you used to know." Smiling, she began to stand.

Quickly grasping her arm to help her, a small frown settled on my face. "You need to be careful, Grandmamma," I whispered.

Marinda still didn't know how sick Grandmamma was. Her mother only told her that she had an 'Ouchy.' How I wish I were that young again. No worries about people dying or dreaming about these weird dreams. Life would be easy and free from the stress of the future.

"Grandmamma!" Came Helena's sudden laughter.

Rushing towards us with rose-coloured cheeks, I quickly caught her before she could push Grandmamma over. Spinning her around, I savoured the happy squeal that filled the room.

"Stop, silly, or I'll get dizzy." She laughed.

"All right, then." Laughing as I set her down, I watched her stumble on her feet slightly. Grasping my hand in her little one, she gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Mummy told me that I should tell you that dinner is almost ready. I was told to wash my hands, so you should too!" She squealed, jumping on the spot. I felt my smile grow at her happiness. It was times like these that I cherished being alive. To see her so happy and full of life made my own life seem less dull.

Kneeling down and gently grasping Marinda's arms, I gave her a big grin. "Did you wash your hands?"

The smile on her face fell slightly. Laughing, I tapped her nose. "I see someone didn't listen to their Mum." Rubbing her hands, I gave her a big smile. "I won't tell Mum that you weren't going to wash your hands if you go and give them a big wash now?"

Marinda stuck out her pinkie with a little frown. "Promise me?"

Smiling, I laced my pinkie with hers. "I promise. Now go." Tapping her on the bottom as she walked past, the warmth I felt before began to fade again. Replacing it was the lonely feeling I had felt for the past eighteen years.

"I have something for you, Helena." Came Grandmamma's sudden voice. Snapping my gaze to her, I watched as she made her way towards the small lounge room. Beckoning me when I didn't follow, a little flash of an image passed by my eyes.

The house before me had a high ceiling, the entranceway was decorated with a grand golden chandelier. Standing in the arch of the door was the man I had always seen. Sandy brown hair, brown eyes, and a smile that seemed to make me weak in the knees. His hand was extended to me as if beckoning me to take it.

With a rub of my eyes, the vision faded back to my regular old house. Light blue walls that were marked by Miranda. On the door were dates and heights from those years. I remember my grandparents making me stand by that wall nearly every month just to measure my height.

"Helena, hurry, dear. I'm not getting any younger, you know." Came Grandmamma's sudden voice.

Once in the room, I spotted Grandmamma by the fireplace. In her hands was an item wrapped in brown paper. It reminded me of the brown paper bags I was given that contained a sandwich back when I was in kindergarten. Trying to hide my smile, I pointed towards the paper.

"You do know there is food in the kitchen, right?"

Glancing down at the item in her hand, a knowing smile graced her face. Smiles like these were rare, and I was grateful that one was showing. "Oh, shut up and sit down, will you?"

Laughing at the attitude given by an eighty-year-old, I did as told. "So, what do you have there if it's not a sandwich?"

With another glance down at the item, she held it out towards me. All joking was put aside as her face became serious. "This has been passed down to all the women in the family. Your great-grandmother once told me that it's been looking for its rightful owner since it was first made."

With a raise of my brows, I wondered if Grandpa had put something into the water. "Right..." I drawled out, completely wanting to leave this conversation. An item, waiting for its owner? Yeah, right, and I was secretly the world's best spy.

"Oh, shut up, you." Slapping my thigh, Grandmamma handed the brown paper bag to me.

Whatever was inside the bag was heavy, and as I weighed the content in my hands, I felt my heart skip a beat. "So, what is it then?"

"Why don't you stop talking and just open it and find out?" Standing, Grandmamma made her way back towards the rest of the family. Stopping at the door, she turned slightly. "It's locked. Great Grandma always said it won't open till it finds its rightful keeper." With a quick smile, she left.

Gazing back down at the bag with a deep sigh, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Grandmamma honestly think an item would search for its owner? Let alone open only once it found the right person.

"I think Grandmamma has smoked something," I whispered.

Taking a few moments to search the outside of the bag, I continued to feel my heart long to open it. I shook my head with a deep sigh and threw the item onto the couch beside me. Right now, I need to focus on helping my aunt with the food. I could always come back to this weird item later.

***

After dinner was eaten and the dishes were washed, I found myself standing at the front door with a heavy heart. Marinda sat in the back of my aunt's car, watching her wave from her seat with a sad look on her face. With a small smile, I returned the wave.

Shutting the passenger door, my aunt turned to me with a small smile. "It was good to see you, Helena." Pulling me into a warm hug, I couldn't help but smile. My aunt reminded me of what a mother could've been like. It's in moments like this, a simple hug makes everything seem okay again. No more what-ifs, no more self-loathing, and no more hatred towards the world.

"It was good to see you, too." Pulling away, a deep sigh fell from my lips.

"We will see you again soon, Helena..." smiling Aunt took a step back. "For now, I want you to remember you are loved, and you are cherished. Okay?"

"She knows; otherwise, she wouldn't be living with me." Came Grandpa's voice. Throwing his arm over my shoulder, I found myself snuggling closer into his embrace.

"Drive safely," I whispered.

Closing the door to my room, I stared at the area with a heavy heart. Everything in this room screamed home, yet even with the items being here, nothing felt homely at all. I still had memories of my family home, with a cute pink bed and fairy lights hung around the room. This room felt as dark as my mind felt. Empty and void of emotions. My single bed with rumpled sheets looked inviting, but I knew I had homework to finish before school. Turning to my desk, I found my feet stopping in their tracks.

Placed neatly on top of my blue homework book and notes was the brown paper bag with a worn-looking diary. I swear I had left this downstairs with the intent to forget about it. Frowning, I gently grasped the item in my hand. It felt heavy, and with the edges of the book looking slightly ripped, I could only imagine the contents inside being worse off.

Turning to the lock on the side, I tried to pry it open, yet it didn't budge. It looked rusted shut, as a small, unrecognisable symbol caught my attention. From what I could make out, it seemed to be an H with vines woven around the letter. Groaning, I gripped the lock tighter and pulled as hard as I could. "Come on, you stupid thing." Realising I wasn't going to get anywhere with the stupid lock, I threw it back onto the desk, causing a loud thud to echo through my small room.

"Whatever, it's not like I wanted to see it anyway." Turning to my bed with a frown, I found myself almost drawn to the sheets. How long had it been since I got a good night's rest? Giving in, I decided to finish my homework in the morning. Resting my head down on my pillow, sleep seemed to pull me into its darkness almost instantly.

"Helena, my love, will you join me in the garden for supper?" Came a soft silky voice. His voice soothed my heart, causing peace to fill my every being and my heart to feel full.

Turning to him with a small smile, I gave a small nod. "I would love to join you, my Lord."

A soft chuckle escaped his lips at my words. Extending his hand, a smile graced his beautiful features. Without any hesitation, I took it. His skin against mine sent shivers down my spine. I love this, I love him. The feeling of belonging, here with this man, was all I needed.

Walking out into the rose garden, my eyes widened at the setting under the white umbrella. Food decorated a silked clothed table, as a single pink rose rested in a glass. It was beautiful. Turning to him with a broad smile, I couldn't help the happy squeal that escaped my lips.

"Is my lady pleased?" he said, a soft laugh soon following my quick nod. "If my lady is pleased, then so am I."

Getting closer to the table, I felt my body become heavy with each step. Something didn't feel right. Something was wrong, yet as I tried to find the source of my unease, nothing stood out to me. The flowers were in full bloom, the fountain a clear blue as birds flew around. Yet something wasn't right. The sound of a loud click to my left caught my attention as it seemed to echo through my ears. Turning in that direction, I noticed a man standing there with a feral look on his face. In his hands was a long-necked shotgun.

As the sound of the gun firing echoed in the clearing, I jumped in shock as I waited for the pain, but nothing. Turning to look at the man I held onto, I was shocked to see a large red stain forming on his chest.

Unable to stop the scream that fell from my lips, I stared at him in horror as his mouth opened and closed, unable to speak. Falling to the ground with a loud thud, the man groaned before I dropped to my knees and applied pressure to the wound.

"My love..." he whispered through gasps. Gently placing his bloodied hand on my cheek, I felt his thumb brush against my skin, leaving a cold, wet sensation in its wake. "My only love..."