Whatever It Takes ft. B.W 🥳
Author's note: Hey everyone! I hope you guys are having a terrific Tuesday 😉. I just wanted to say a few things before you read on.
- This story is dedicated to my good reedsy friend, B.W! I really hope she enjoys it. I realize this is probably really bad, but I promise, I tried.
- Like I said above, this is probably really cringe, I'm sorry.
- I'm doing a question of the day from now on! Today's question is: would you rather live in the city or country?
The words at the end of each section in italics are verses from ”Whatever It Takes” by Imagine dragons. Sorry, they're kinda outta order.😕
that's all! Thank you if you're still reading to this point! 😁
It had been a month since he died. A brain tumor, or so the doctors said. My grandfather had been a rich man. Before he died, he was practically sitting on a pile of gold. I was always amazed by his luxury, seeing as he didn't have an abnormal job. He worked at a paper factory along with several hundred others. Putting him aside, I was only a naive teenage girl with enough struggles already. I was in high school with the intention of being invisible. The best thing would be for me to just float through classes like a ghost; not seen, nor heard. Every dinner, I would shove food down my throat in order to get back to homework. That may have been why I didn't hear my parents the first time they said my name.
”Bee!” They called again. This time I looked up from my food with half a spaghetti noodle threatening to fall out of my mouth. Instead of correcting my bad manners, as usual, they gave each other ”a look”. Sighing my dad said,
”Bee, we have some bad news.” they had my attention now. Whenever there was ”bad news” it meant something really bad. Like, last week, ”bad news” meant my mom lost her job.
”Your grandfather… Passed away, ” he continued. I dropped my fork, shocked. I kept repeating the word ”no” over and over until my mom came over and wrapped me in a hug. I pushed her arms away and stood up.
”No, ” I repeated again ”I- I just saw him last week. It can't, ”
”Bee, listen, ” my mom interrupted. ”It was a brain tumor. Apparently, he didn't tell anybody and after being found by Dulcina, his maid, he didn't have a pulse or heartbeat. We're attending his funeral next week.” I sat back down and tried to ignore the hole growing in my heart. I was closer to my grandfather than anyone. Even my parents. He just couldn't be gone.
Falling too fast to prepare for this.
It was a cloudy day at his funeral, perfectly matching the moods of the friends and family that gathered around. I didn't hear anything the pastor said, and the mumbled apologies got drowned out by the overwhelming wave of sadness. Weeks later, the family called a meeting to look at, and discuss my grandfather's will. Nobody said it, but I knew everyone was looking forward to achieving the riches he had once possessed. Little did they know, a shock was about to befall them…
Tripping in this world could be dangerous.
When my parents and I arrived, a crowd assembled around us. Shouts of ”Finally!” and ”Why did you have to be late!” rang through the air. I checked my watch. It was 12:59, we were a minute early. My aunt, Madea, hurried me and my mom out, with such speed, my glasses nearly fell off. As soon as we got inside, the will was torn open. My uncle, who was opening it, let out a small gasp. In nervous anticipation, everyone crowded around violently.
”Well what does it say, buckeroo!” Madea shouted, swatting him on the head. A wicked smile spread across my face. I loved that woman.
”It says here, that… Well... It says.. Bee gets all the fortune and for her to receive it she must complete a series of challenges that will test her many skills in various areas, ” he said, almost in one breath. Nearly everyone gasped, including me. I think my timid half-cousin fainted.
Everyone circling is vultures.
In a moment of commotion, I saw a relative I didn't know smile at me slightly and tuck a folded piece of paper into my palm. I motioned to my mom that we needed to leave and we discreetly snuck back in the car. Once there, I opened the note up. It read:
If you're reading this, I'm probably dead. You know I've never been one for poetry so I'll just get to the point. Your task is to drive to my home. My good friend Larry will take you. I know your mother will worry, but tell her I trust Larry completely. You will have challenges that will force you outside your comfort zone but I believe in you. The key is to trust. That's all for now. Good luck and stay safe. Your grandfather,
I stared blankly at the paper for quite some time, until explaining it to my mother. After a few days of convincing, my parents finally agreed and I started packing my bags.
When the day finally came, I woke up early and ate a hearty breakfast of eggs and toast. After hugging me a gazillion times, my parents finally bid me farewell and I walked outside where a man, presumably Larry, waited in an old pickup truck. He seemed like the typical farmer I saw in old western movies. Cowboy hat, southern accent, the whole shebang. I smiled politely and said a quiet ”hi”. He returned my smile and tipped his hat toward me.
”You must be miss B.W., ” he said.
”That’s me, ” I responded, nervously playing with my brown hair. After waving goodbye to my parents, I put on headphones and turned my head away, facing the window.
Always had a fear of being typical. Looking at my body feeling miserable.
When we arrived, I recognized the old log cabin style house with a perfectly manicured lawn. Horses and cows grazed in the pasture outside. Even though my grandfather, Leo, was rich, he chose to live in the country.
“All those city kids grow up to be spoiled brats. They don’t understand what hard work means, sitting on their phones all day.” I remember him saying in his gruff voice.
“Hey kid,” Larry called as I got out of the truck, “good luck.” That was all he said before zooming off, leaving me alone with my bags. I stared at the door. He didn’t even tell me the key! Since Leo was so rich, he had an alphanumeric keypad instead of an actual key. That’s when I thought back to the first note. “Remember, the key is to trust,” I heard him say. Trust! I thought. I typed the word in, and sure enough, the door swung open. To my surprise, an older lady, in her sixties, was standing at the door. She wore a faded blue dress with flowers on it. Her arms had smears of flour on them, and her face was grim.
“Let’s get to it,” she called. “I’m Dulcina, your grandfather’s maid. You will be staying with me. While here you will be cooking, cleaning the stables, and plowing the field.” All the while she was saying this, she was walking upstairs. “This is your room,” she said, pointing to a room with faint pink paint on the wall. I smiled shyly and walked in. The room was small, but I didn't say that. The walls had cracks in them, it looked like it hadn't been used in years. I felt unfortunate, I was missing my family and Dulcina seemed to hate me.
Never be enough, I'm the prodigal son.
”Bee!” The words slowly made their way to my ears. I heard stomping up the stairs and when my eyes finally opened, I got an eyeful of a curler-filled Dulcina. I let out a quiet scream. ”Breakfast is at five. You missed it. Get downstairs and start cleaning the stables, ” she yelled. I looked at my clock, it was 6:30. Fearful of what would happen if I didn't, I got dressed and ran outside. My grandfather had taught me everything from cleaning the stables to plowing the fields. After I cleaned all the stalls, I started hitching up the horses to start plowing. Once I had finished the tilling, Dulcina cane to inspect it. Once she took a gander at it, she began to give a hearty laugh. She laughed and laughed, pointing at the field and giggling. My once proud smile turned into a disappointed frown. After telling me everything I did wrong Dulcina went inside and left me to do hours of back-breaking work myself.
Run me like a racehorse, pull me like a ripcord.
I had been at my grandfather's for a week. And I had finally gotten the hang of everything except plowing. ”Deeper!” Dulcina would say, day after day. Yet I knew I couldn't give up. One day, I finally got it. The fire of my determination prevailed. The plowing felt like any other day I had done it, except when I heard a satisfying ping! Radiating from the back of the plow. I slowed the horses and cautiously peered around. To my wonder, a metal door stood in the way of the dirt. It was big but easy enough to not see unless you were looking for it. I pulled the door open and peered inside. Thousands and thousands of gold bars and jewels stared back at me. I crawled inside the room and let out a shriek of joy. I, B.W was victorious.
I'm just a symbol to remind you that there's more to see. I'm just a product of the system, a catastrophe. And a masterpiece, yet I'm half diseased. And when I am deceased, at least I go down to the grave and I happily leave the body of my soul to be a part of me. I'll do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.