A Month at Grandma's

Submitted into Contest #273 in response to: Write a story that hides something from the reader until the end.... view prompt

1 comment

Suspense Horror

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

1 October:

We finally arrived at Grandma's late in the evening. The sun was already down, and the sky had become a thin pink line just above the trees at the edge of her farm. Dad’s dog was the first thing out the door and ran off barking into the fields. I secretly hoped it would never return. Dad bought it two years ago when I was six, and sometimes I think he spends more time with the stupid dog than with me. The farm smelled like rotten cabbage mixed with muddy feet and I almost gagged. It took three days of driving, and I already hate being here. Patty slept almost the whole day’s drive, and still Angela carried her into the house, even though she’s been walking for four years now. It made me so mad, and I just wanted to pull that thumb out of her face and slap her. Angela would wrap me on the knuckles every time she found me sucking my thumb, but Patricia gets hardly an angry glance. To make matters worse, dad was so tired and angry that despite all my help bringing in the luggage, he belted me across the mouth when I dropped the suitcase on my foot and cursed. It wasn’t even the worst word. The one he often uses in the garage, watching television, at the dinner table, and every single time he has a beer in his hand. Which is almost always. After that I was sat on the little hall couch for an hour. I had nothing to do but sit and stare at the wall. Well, not a blank wall. Grandma put a long shelf for her books up above her table of plants and had it full of almost fifteen books. I think it was fifteen, I stopped counting after seeing… the doll! Right in the center of the shelf was a plump cotton filled cloth doll. Its roughly spherical head was a light brown canvas with two pure black glass eyes, gray yarn for hair tied into pig tails, a simple straight stitched smile for a mouth, and no nose or ears. It wore a sky blue, silk dress with what looked like felt slippers. It made me smile and was the only thing that made me feel like this trip would be okay. Finally, it felt like I was at Grandma’s.

5 October:

I got in trouble again! Patricia was running around the breakfast table chasing the dog and bumped into my chair three times. I asked her to stop, but she just shrieked at me and kept running. No one else was doing anything so I pushed her away, not even hard, and she happened to fall into Angela’s chair. I mean she didn’t even hit it that bad, but she cried louder than a baby. Of course everyone took her side, and of course I got scolded for pushing her while no one made her apologize for bumping into me. So, I got the broom handle across my back and sat on that stupid couch again. My only comfort was that smile on Grandma’s doll. It seemed to be saying that everything will be fine, that it knows what I am going through. I smiled back at it and studied its dark eyes. Their smooth polished surface gleamed in a way that makes the black in them seem endless, like staring into the night. I was jolted to attention by dad yelling at me to get off the chair. At first, I thought he would hit me, but the doorbell rang, and he quickly fixed a smile on his face. His voice became kind and gentle as he told me to go play outside. He then walked to the door and let in two people, a man and woman dressed in suits and carrying briefcases like in those crime shows. I heard one say they were from Gramby Property Law as I was leaving the house. They were there the whole day, and I didn’t come in till dinner. After that, I stayed in my room till bedtime. It was nice to be left alone.

6 October:

Today sucked right from the beginning! Everyone else went into town to get groceries, and it was just dad and I at home. I was so excited about it being just him and I, and I ran out to the shed where he was to see if we could do something together. When I opened the door, he was standing facing a small table with a machine-like thing on it. When I asked what it was, he sharply told me it was a pump for the corn field. I don’t know what that is, but it didn’t sound super important, so I asked if we could go fishing for a little while. He didn’t answer, so I asked again. I know I had spoken clearly, but it looked like he didn’t even hear me, so I began to ask once more. This time he didn’t even let me finish. He just spun around and shouted that he had heard me the first time and added that if I was going to be a f’ing pest, then I can go buzz around the neighbor's cows. He didn’t have anything in his hands, but they were reaching towards the bench for something, so I ran off as fast as I could and tried to stop from crying. I was able to get control of my tears by the time I got to the house. When I entered in, I walked over to the doll and just sat in my seat. Just like yesterday, I stared at it and this time pretended like it was alive. I told it how angry I was, and how unfair things have been. I could see in its eyes it cared, and I really felt like it was listening. It was so nice that I just kept rambling on for maybe 15 minutes. When I finished, I would’ve sworn it looked like it would say something, so I tried to imagine what its voice might sound like. In my head it sounds like a very old person. I know what old people sound like and this voice in my head sounded even older. There was this added noise like the phlegm that I sometimes get when I have a cold. It made a type of rattling along with the old voice, and it all came out like someone trying to whisper loudly. It told me that it is not okay to be hurt by those we love, that it hated mean people, and that one day it will all be better. I know that was my imagination, but it made me feel like it heard what I said. So, I walked up and touched the foot dangling over the shelf edge. Just to say thank you.

11 October:

I woke to Grandma calling me downstairs. She wanted me to grab the four red gas cans by the shed and carry them up to the porch. They were for the old generator near the house. When I was four, she had told me that she kept them near the house in case a thunderstorm was coming. She had me put them under the porch and I asked her through the window if that meant a storm was coming? She laughed and her answer sounded almost joyful when she said that there was a good chance this month. I went inside and walked past the doll. I took one glance, and it seemed to nod agreeably with Grandma’s comment.

16 October:

I made a big mistake during dinner. Angela and dad were talking about selling the farm, and got into an argument over how much it was worth. Dad kept saying that it wouldn’t be enough, and Angela was loudly saying that they need to ask for more. Then there was more shouting, and dad kept repeating that it wasn’t selling because it was too high! Patty was crying because no one was paying attention to her, the dog was barking, they both were slamming the table, and it felt like the noise was filling the room like water. I thought my head would explode. I couldn’t take it anymore and I screamed at the top of my lungs. The words began flying out as my voice rose above theirs. Each one tumbling out faster than the last. That Grandma gave the farm to Uncle Charlie because she knew dad would try and sell it, that it was only because he died in the war that we were here, and that if Grandma were at the dinner table tonight, she would be disgusted. At first, it was silent. They asked how I knew that. I was too worked up to explain that Grandma had told me, and pressed on shouting how much she hated Angela and how dad had lost the inheritance when he tried to kill grandad for insurance. I expected the first slap, but it came so much faster and harder than usual. Everything else that followed was mixed with both their screaming and fury. So, when I sat on my couch across from my imaginary friend, my face all red and puffy, my eyes stinging and swollen, and the blood still wet on my lips, I kept staring down, embarrassed that even the doll would see. Then I felt her old wrinkled hand slide across my shoulders and pull me into her side. “Don’t worry, let them plan things they don’t control.” Her voice was so soothing, however I just cried into her side as she spoke. “My special boy, it may not seem like it, but a much better day is coming. Hold your head up!”

I just kept crying.

20 October:

I was yanked out of bed and my head hit the side of the dresser, and luckily missed the corner. I woke up quickly to a furious tirade above me. Dad was drunkenly yelling something about toys on the stairs, as spittle flew from his ugly curled lips. His eyes were squinted in rage as he furiously pointed at the door and roared out how I had purposefully left the jacks all over the steps. The foul odor of stale beer washed over my nostrils with each hollered accusation. He was waving a large jack that he had pulled from his foot. It was from the set given to me several years ago. They were for smaller kids and were four times the size of traditional jacks. A quick glance at his foot, and I could see that the bottom white of his sock had turned red. I protested that I had been asleep all night, but that did nothing. No one believed me. Angela kept dumbly nodding approvingly as he threw each jack at me. Dad then lunged at me and I braced for the coming blows, but he halted his advance and howled as the inured foot came down on a loose jack he had thrown. He fell backwards screaming as he pulled it from his bloody heel, and in a moment of glorious luck, he limped off to the bathroom to bandage himself. The second offending jack sat a foot from me, and with a quick examination, I noticed it was filed sharp on the two end points like a caltrop. A fear gripped me that he would come back and notice this strange new modification. So, I hurriedly gathered them up, counting out each to make sure I had all twelve. When I reached eleven and realized that the last one wasn’t in the room, I panicked and began carefully investigating each step down to the bottom floor. Once there I started searching out from the stairway and only made it four feet when my eye caught the glint of metal in the entryway hall. There, sitting an inch from Grandma’s doll, sat the final jack piece. The doll smiled gleefully at me!

21 October:

After yesterday morning, the whole day had gone by quietly. No one speaking to anyone. I did witness one strange thing. I was coming in from outside and walking past the doll. The dog was asleep in the hall when it jumped up and began growling towards me and the doll. Its hair was standing on end and baring its teeth in a snarl. I just stood there frightened, till Grandma arrived and the dog suddenly ran off whimpering.

22 October:

This morning, I was alerted to Angela screaming like she was being attacked by a bear. It was so alarming that my curiosity overrode my caution. I sprinted downstairs to find her covering her face with her hands while hysterically trying to talk and scream at the same time. The words were incoherent but the fear in her eyes spoke clearly. They were fixed on the table under Grandma’s bookshelf, where a very bloody kitchen knife laid in a puddle. There was a trail of crimson droplets coming from the front door up to the knife and a second trail that passed somewhere behind me. Angela’s eyes moved to the door, along the floor, to the knife, and then finally across the floor towards me. I copied her gaze and noticed a footstep pattern of bloody puddles leading from the knife, past me, and up the stairs. I could see the hesitance in Angela, she didn’t want to, but she forced herself to slowly follow that trail up. My curiosity was at a peak, and I had to know, so I was right behind her. When we entered my room and saw the prints stop right by my bed, she looked at me in unholy terror, screamed and bolted for her bedroom. I tried pleading that it wasn’t me. I mean, how could it be? Outside dad was frantically yelling for the dog. Amongst the screams, I could hear Grandma laughing jovially from the kitchen.

23-25 October:

Everyone has been avoiding me since the dog went missing. I have to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, because no one cooks meals. My dad keeps staring at me like he wants to attack me. Each time, I can see his body shaking in anger (or maybe fear, I am not sure?) and then he leaves the room. Grandma keeps cheerily telling me “A good day is coming.” each night when I go to bed.

26 October:

Every

single

one

was

stabbed

into

the

door!!!

Every fork, every knife, every skewer, everything in every drawer was somehow imbedded into dad and Angela’s bedroom door. This is amazing. There were items that could never puncture into solid wood yet were now driven into the door like nails. Pens, pencils, scissors, and even spoons thrust in handle first, mimicking a ridiculous looking medieval torture device. In the center of it all, carved with reckless form, were the words “NOT YOUR HOME!” Angela was inconsolably rocking, crying, and holding Patty, who was weeping unsure what was happening. Dad just stood transfixed on the door muttering the same phrase over and over. “This isn’t real! This isn’t real!” I couldn’t help but laugh as Grandma chuckled over my shoulder.

30 October (11:40 pm.)

I am still awake! I went to bed four hours ago but haven’t fallen asleep yet. I haven’t slept once since the door. I spend all my time with Grandma, and we talk all the way till morning. Dad is about to head to the shed as he has the last four nights. I can see from my window he has another case of beer. It’s cold tonight. I still have my jeans and sweater on. There is a chill in the air and frost already on the windows. Grandma says we need a fire to keep warm tonight.

Case No. 001369; Date: 10/31/2024; Officer: Det. Greg Veldman

Incident: Suspected Arson/Homicide.

 Unit 49 arrived on scene after the initial 911 dispatch of a Structure Fire. Responding FD reported possible arson with victims inside. Suspect is an 8yo boy found on scene holding a cigarette lighter and a small doll. The house and a nearby shed were fully engulfed in flames with FD personnel engaging in defensive tactics upon U49’s arrival. When the suspect was asked what happened here? His only reply was, “It’s a good day.” This was his only response to any further inquiry.

 After the fire had been put out, three victims were found inside, and pronounced deceased on scene. Fire investigation showed that several large gas cans were found beside the structure. Burn patterns indicated that ignited gasoline was the most likely ignition source. NOTE: Suspect’s left pant leg was soaked in gasoline. It was also discovered all exit doors were braced by heavy 4” x 4”x 6’ lumber pieces. Evidence of possible motive was found when the on-scene medic examined the suspect and found bruising consistent with abuse victims. Unit 49 took the suspect into custody for further questioning. Investigation is still ongoing.

10 March 2025:

Today I drew a picture. Grandma helped like always. They wanted the picture to be of that night. I think it came out nice. The bright oranges and reds of the fire that kept us warm looked so pretty. It took almost two black crayons to make the sky and shadows around us, but there was Grandma and I holding hands like we did back then. Then they asked the strangest thing. They asked if I remembered Grandma dying over a year ago. I laughed and just pointed at my picture. I said, “She is right here, silly. I see her every day!”

October 24, 2024 16:08

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1 comment

Joseph Murray
22:58 Oct 30, 2024

Very engaging tale. The slow burn of realizing that something worse than just a child having a bad day is amazing. I could see this as a Twilight Zone episode.

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