Ignorance is bliss?

For the most part, nothing terribly happy things ever happened in her life. Her parents were entrepreneurs who were rarely home. For the most part of her life, she grew with her grandparents. Her grandfather, Peter Jackson was a retired police commissioner who now spends his life fishing in a nearby lake. While growing up, she was close with her Grandma, Mary. Her heart shattered when Mary died in her sleep last winter.

My name is Norma and pretty much everything in my life was normal.

Until one rainy Sunday night,

  It was a fine day, sunny before Rain. Rainwater drummed wildly on the roof. The heavy thunderstorm went on well into the night. Due to a thunderstorm, there was a power cut in the town. Rain splattered hard against her windows, drawing my gaze to the windows. A raging thunderstorm ripping open the sky, it lightens up the outside of my house for a minute.

 I accidentally saw my grandfather kill someone with his rifle. I heard the muffled gunshot. I could see the silhouette of the person before he fell down. My heart slammed against my rib cage and my breath quickened. My whole body shivered and I didn’t know whether it was because of the cold or from the fear.

I took torchlight and raincoat from her drawer, went downstairs slowly. Before I could turn the doorknob,

“Where are you going Norma?” a very deep voice asked me. I slowly turned to see my grandfather with his hands on his hips. My breath hitched.

How the heck he came inside the house before I came downstairs?

But he was drenched.

“Norma?” he called my name again which sounds so weird coming from his mouth.

You should not confess to the murderer that you saw him killing his victim, right?

“I want to dance in the rain.” So, I’d let my stupid idiotic brain answer.

“Oh, you want to dance in this weather. But you don’t want to dance in church gathering last week young lady ah?”

Oh god, I forgot to tell you that my grandfather was a religious man who believed every god damn superstitious thing in the world and forced other people in the family to follow it.

“Why are you wet grandpa?” I asked trying to change the subject and willing to see how he would answer.

He looked down, took a towel from the table and dried his hair.

“I fell in the bathroom and drenched from the shower” he replied flatly, and I briefly wondered how effortlessly he lied.

His lies confirmed my fears.

“Stay in your dad’s bedroom downstairs. I placed some woods in the fireplace, it will keep you warm.” I nodded my head, went inside the bedroom, closed my door as soon as possible.

Grandpa hadn’t been a bad guy, as far as I remember. I recalled him doing all dad things which my own dad didn’t have time to do—teaching me to throw and catch a ball, taking me to fair, fishing, the hobby he liked the most. My memories of him were a blur. after some time, our alone time became less eventually none.

Back then, when I was eleven, I stole a bracelet from a handmade store in a country fair. It had rainbow-colored beans and so pretty. He somehow came to know about my stealing, next day. He took me to the shop and made me return the bracelet to the shop owner and told me “it’s not worth your energy” it was so humiliating for me as well owner. He just implied that the stuff I stole was not worth the money.

But sometimes, He was a self-righteous narcissist. I didn’t think he would kill someone. At the same time, I could not lie to myself. I saw him outside with my naked eyes. if he was a murderer I want him to pay.

No one was above the law.

Should I call the cops?

No, I need strong evidence.

What if there was no trace of murder tomorrow?

I need to go outside asap, find out the body.

And

I was scared.

What if he killed me?

No chance, he was my grandfather. Perhaps, lock me up in the basement.

Did God punish me for not dancing in his last gathering?

Shut up brain!

And then, through all the questions, I envisioned a plan.

1.check whether grandpa slept or not

2. if not, wait for another hour.

3.if he slept, go outside and search for a dead body.

4.secure the murder weapon [ grandpa’s hunting rifle]

5.call the cops.

 A split second of doubt came into mind, I literally shook my head to clear it. Picking up my mobile, I stepped into the living room slowly. My whole body pumped with adrenaline. The lights were off in his room. he was sleeping, I stepped outside.

I mentally congratulated myself for ‘the bravery act’. Regardless, nothing was there in that place. I blew out a breath in defeat, kneading my temples. I was about to give up and go back inside the house. I heard a noise not quite loud enough to be reasonable because of rain, but not quite enough to go unnoticed by me.

There he had a shovel in his hand and digging the ground so hard like a mad man. But I thought he was sleeping. his flickering torch the only source of illumination and I could see the silhouette of the dead body near him. My toes curl at the sight, I turned my head to another side - a vain attempt to make myself not vomit.

I ran not towards the house but opposite. I vomited till there was nothing in my stomach. I called the cops finally when I knew I was far away from the house, from him. I told them everything. Along with Officer Hendry and his partner, I showed them where he buried the body. His partner started to dig the ground.

“Where did you went Norma?” grandpa shouted at me from his chair. Officer Hendry asked him to come outside. I heard them talk and suddenly, they laughed.

“Norma, it’s bear” the officer chuckled.

“What?”

“your grandpa is not a killer, you misunderstood.”

When his partner completed the digging, he called us and it was bear, a large bear.

But I saw the silhouette of the person. Maybe I was delusional.

“I don’t want to scare you dear. That is why I lied when you asked me why I was wet?” my grandpa‘s voice was low and painful.

God, how could I face my grandpa now? I felt too guilty for not asking straight. Family always came first right. He was caring.

It was too much. I put my head in my hands and wept right there in front of everyone. I should have known better to think about him like that. I just sat there on the ground, knees curled up to my chest. I cried and cried till nothing left.

When the tears subsided and the sobs that wrecked my body and he was there to hug me.

-------------------------------------------------

They said always trust your guts and it was true. When I saw her face when she asked me why I was drenched. I knew brat saw something she shouldn’t. if the officers checked my basement, they would definitely find a dead body.

I made a rule not to kill my family member after I killed my wife in her sleep with help of a pillow which I still have.

What they say,

   "RULES ARE MEANT TO BE BROKEN"