Grandma's Hair Stick

"Can you keep a secret?" Amber whispered to her step-sister.

"Of course," Beth said, "I'm a good secret keeper."

"Okay."

Amber rose signaling for Beth to stay seated. Peering out the windows, she pulled the curtains shut then leaned out into the hall. Noting the coast was clear, she silently closed the door then returned to the round carpet in the middle of their room. Crossing her legs, Amber sat back down in front of Beth taking a big breath. 

"This use to belong to my grandmother," Amber pulled a long silver hair stick from her hair.

She ran her hands over the hairpiece, her finger rising and falling with each pearl and colored stone. Beth reached her hand out to touch it only to have Amber rip it away.

"I said I would tell you where I got it," her voice was stern. "I didn't say you could touch it."

"Sorry," Beth lowered her head, "I wish I had a grandmother."

"Well, only the lucky girls get one, and she was the best grandmother a girl could have." Amber's voice softened as she continued, "my grandmother would let me sit with her in her large walk-in closet and try on all her close and shoes. We'd spend hours in there playing dress-up. After I found the perfect outfit, we would sit in front of her large brass mirror and put on makeup."

Beth leaned in, putting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. Her eyes were wide with anticipation and wonder as her new step-sister continued her story. 

"Some nights, the lucky nights, I got to stay over. On those nights I stayed over, grandma always had a warm bath ready for me, just before bed. And after a large oversize t-shirt. The shirt was so soft like a fuzzy stuffed animal was hugging me. I loved the feel of it against my skin." Amber paused, smiling, then whispered, "Grandma didn't know it, but on those nights after she put me to bed, I would sneak out of my room and peek into hers. I could see her after she came out of her closet. She always wore a long silk nightgown. She'd sit down in front of that brass mirror and strip off her make up. Then she would pull that hair stick out of her hair, and I'd watch it fall like a waterfall down her back. Then she'd brush it, and before she was done, she would pull it to the side and put it in a braid."

"Like you do your hair?"

"Yes, just like mine. She was," Amber teared up, "the most special person alive. Then she died."

"I'm sorry," Beth placed her hand on Amber's, who quickly pulled away.

"It was three days before my eighth birthday when Mommy and Daddy came to tell me that she was in an accident."

"You loved her?" Beth questioned.

"You wouldn't know what it was like, being unlucky and all, but there is nothing like the love of a good grandma, and that's what she was a good grandma."

"Did she give you the hair stick?"

"That's where the secret comes in."

Amber looked around the room as if to check to make sure it was all clear.

"Mom pulled out a black dress for her and me, and we met the family at the funeral home. We sat down on long wooden benches as a man I'd never seen before stepped up before us all and talked about grandma and the kind of person she was. Then we all lined up and went to see her one last time. 

"You saw her dead body?" Beth gasped.

"Grandma lay in the coffin as still as could be. I went right up to her and put my hand on her face. She was cold and clammy, two things my grandma had never been."

Amber paused, looking down at the hairpiece. A single tear escaped her eye, running down her cheek. She wiped it away, remaining silent.

"I ask you again, Beth," Amber leaned closer to her step-sister, "can you keep a secret?"

"Yes, yes, I can," Beth smiled.

"When no one was looking, I reached into the coffin and pulled it from Grandma's hair. I used my dress to help me cover it up and then snuck it into my coat pocket before we left."

"Ohh," Beth looked her step-sister in the eye, "you stole it?"

"She would have wanted me to have it."

"Why is it a secret, then?"

"Because," Amber ran her fingers over the piece again. "After she was buried, my dad found it in my room. He was going to take it away from me. He told me it was wrong for me to take it, but I knew grandma had wanted me to have it so I could remember her, but Daddy didn't see it that way. He tried to take it from me, and it was mine." Amber's voice grew dark, "he said he was going to tell Mommy. I chased after him as he walked out of my room and down the hall. I tried to get it back from his hands, but he refused to give me what was rightfully mine." Amber smiled menacingly, "grandma taught me other things too. She said a woman should always know how to take care of herself. Grandma said that there are times where other people try to keep us down and hide our light. They try to take what is ours because they are jealous of what we have," she paused. "And I knew at that moment that was what my father was trying to do, and I wasn't going to let him do that to me. So...I pushed him down the stairs."

Beth's eyes widened. 

"That's why I don't like it when you touch it because it belonged to my grandmother." 

Flipping the hairpiece in her fingers, Amber whipped it out in front of her slicing into Beth's neck, cutting her curated artery. Beth tried to scream, but before she could make a sound, Amber had her hand over her mouth. 

"You're trying to take something away from me, too, aren't you? You want my Mommy, my toys, my clothes, and now my grandmother's hair stick. Well, it's not going to happen." 

Laying Beth down on the floor, she brushed her free hand over her blonde hair as she gleefully watched the light drain out of her eyes. Once Beth was gone, Amber flipped up the rug's end and put some sharp toys around her. She took a deep breath, put the hair stick back into her hair, got into position, and screamed.

"AHHHH," she cried, "Mom, help please."

The bedroom door flew open as her mother and stepfather rushed in. Amber's body shook as tears streamed down her face as she huddled in the corner.

"Amy call 911," Jeff yelled as he took his daughter in his arms. "What happened?" he cupped his hand over her open wound.

"We were playing," Amber said between gasping and tears. "She...was...twirling around and," she paused, controlling her breath, "she tripped on the carpet and...and...and..."

"Oh, baby," her mother scooped her up in her arms, rushing her out of the room. 

Smiling, Amber held tight to her mother as the paramedics ran into the bedroom.