We heard the shot.”It’s the fireworks!” said my aunt. We were all very eager to go outside and see them. I was always a happy, outgoing, cheerful girl that would always find a way to make everything seem okay for everyone.
The house was warm and snug. The ceiling looked like it could go on perpetually, and the doors were so broad. What I most remember though is the room where my grandfather and my grandmother would slumber throughout the night. It was minute but they managed to not bother about it. Then we finally went outside we saw a bundle of people just surrounding, we all thought they were just looking at the fireworks and didn’t bother to ask them what was going on.
When a couple minutes later we see an ambulance rushing down the street wondering what could have happened. Everyone had gathered around so we couldn’t really see what was going on. Until I got closer and saw that my grandfather was on the floor with blood squirting out of his back. I felt so different I didn’t know what to do but hug him. When I got up his blood was all over my shirt. I felt like a part of him would always be with me. Plus when I was little and I would go visit him he would tell me I was his favorite grandchild since in literally a replica of my mother if it wasn’t for the age we could be like my twin. And when she was a child she was his favorite daughter. That’s why I was always so close to him and I knew even though he wouldn’t be with us anymore because of the incident a little part of him would always be with me. And help me when I needed him there for me.
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