Sleeping

Grandpa walks down the stairs, every single move as erratic and as painful as the one before it. He holds the rail with all his strength, he moves each foot with tremendous effort. When he comes to the bottom, he is out of breath yet grinning at me.

"We did it, boy," he says with a sly smile, "And soon we'll be on the telly!"

I laugh quietly, as not to wake up Grandma, but inside I am screaming, sobbing. No Grandpa. No!

The old man grabs my hand and squeezes it. "You got the poison, Jack?" he asks. I hand the sealed pack to him nervously. He hobbles to the kitchen, sighing as he sits down on a chair. "I wish I didn't have Jaqueline Syndrome, Jack. I truly do. I wish it wasn't named after Grandma, too. She doesn't deserve to have her name plastered across the newspapers tomorrow, either. But no. We have to do this! Do you understand?"

I nod. I open my mouth, but then close it as tears begin rolling down my cheeks.

Grandpa rips the pack open, and takes out the syringe. He carefully pushes the needle into his arm, and then pushes.

I am sobbing quietly.

"Don't cry, Jack," he says as he pulls the needle out, "I'll be dead soon. Thank you, boy, for looking after me." Tears begin streaming down his cheeks. "Thank you for getting the poison from your Mum's work. Thank you for ransacking the Vets' just for Euthenasia. Tell Jackie... tell her I love her."

"Don't go," I beg.

"I LOVE YOU JACKIE!" he screams.

Then he is gone.

"GRANDMA!" I scream, collapsing in a heap. She comes down the stairs and flicks on the light switch in the kitchen.

"Jack," she whispers, "What happened?"

I look into her tear-filled eyes, I feel her intense pain.

"I... he..."

"You helped him commit suicide," Grandma whispers.

I nod, then stars obstruct my vision and blackness envelopes me.

Don't go, Grandpa. I love you...

Author's Note

Is it sad? does it touch you?