Tommorow, Stuck On Repeat

MFB435

She was kind. Always kind. Even when things didn't go her way, or when she got mad, she would contain her anger. My grandma was an old lady—well, obviously. She always wore a leather jacket over a purple textured shirt. She paired it with a blue skirt that went down to her knees.

I almost never saw her. We never went to her house. Even though she constantly nagged my parents for me and my siblings to come over, we just… never did.

1 Year Before MFB435's Passing

One day, I was walking to the city with TFR when I received a text from my mom. It read:

SOB442, your grandmother is sick. Come back home now.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I muttered under my breath. Without another word, I broke into a sprint, waving TFR goodbye.

TFR called out after me, confused, but I didn't stop.

When I finally got home, I froze.

My grandma was lying in a bed in the living room. She was so thin—fragile, even. Tubes and bandages covered her body, her face pale and sunken. I couldn't understand it.

No one could.

She had been brought here by her neighbor. No explanation. No warning.

I stood there, a mix of sadness and confusion washing over me. I could barely look at her in that state.

2 Days Before MFB435's Passing

Every day after that, I sat by her side, reading to her from the books she loved.

I couldn't stop thinking about her. She became my focus, my responsibility, like my own child.

But she never spoke.

She never even woke up.

Until the day she died.

As I sat there, lost in my memories of her, the subtle sound of footsteps approached, pulling me back to the present.

I looked up to see a man standing before us, dressed sharply in a black suit. His presence was commanding, almost unnerving, as though he carried an unspoken authority. His long gray beard contrasted sharply with his bright pink, curly hair, and his pale gray eyes seemed to pierce through me.

"Have you witnessed the death of this vile woman?" he asked in a voice that was both deep and strangely melodic.

"Vile?! Who the hell are you?" I snapped, my voice rasping with anger.

He tilted his head slightly, unfazed by my reaction. "Calm down," he said in a calm, almost dismissive tone. "You know little. Follow me, and I will answer every question you have. This woman will be dealt with."

TFR and I exchanged a look, his expression mirroring my uncertainty. After a moment of silent agreement, we decided to follow the man.

Though anger still simmered within me over the woman's death, I knew I needed answers.