A family duty

March 3rd marked the last day I saw my Grandmother and, it was the day I most regret for not paying as much attention as I could have. She was always passionate when she spoke regardless what it was about, but that day all she talked about was following the instructions. She did not seem to have many confused states over the time she became unwell but this book she preached to me, was something else. I was not sure if the talk was a lecture or a scolding the way her tone kept changing from harsh to soft. I sat and half listened while I day dreamed about what I was going to have for dinner tonight. Maybe a chicken dinner for one or a Chinese for one, I suppose it depends on what's left of my pay check after rent. I also pondered a shopping list carefully deciding on what to sacrifice this time to afford to live. I do know Pebbles my cat is running low on his food so I guess its waffles that are not essential this week.

I was lost in mouth watering dreams of the food I cannot afford until Grandmothers breathing became erratic and her coughing did not stop. I snapped to attention and sat on her bed trying to soothe her even though I knew it was pointless. I was helplessly on the side lines while she suffered through these moments of no easy breath, wishing I could make her better. I stroked her hand until it subsided but it left her weak and barely able to speak. Her sad eyes met my watery ones and she mustered all her strength to smile to reassure me. I lent down to kiss her forehead, simultaneously she whispered with as much breath as she had left "follow the book". A tear escaped from me then even at her weakened state she still finds a way to continue her ravings. I took a quick breath to compose and dry my fallen tear before straightening myself to reply. Only to gaze upon those now still sad eyes and her ever so paler face that also was frozen still in time. I placed my hand on her cheek and let out a whimper, which broke the seal on all my tears I had left. They fell onto her face and ran down to her night gown, I let my hand follow them to her neck, praying that this was not it.

The next thing I remember was my slow decent down the hall to the nurses station. Linda was her usual cheerful self and asked about why I was leaving early today. It was only one look at me that lead her to the answer without words but I said them anyway. "She's past" I tried to be clear with my message through the sobbing of those two words. Linda headed up the protocol right away and offered to drive me home and her condolences. I accepted the ride but I could not thank her for the condolences, I still felt like there was a chance this was a nightmare. She left me at the apartment door and said she will bring my car for me tomorrow and post the keys. I nodded and close the door and headed to bed, where I cried myself to sleep and shed so many tears I did not think were possible. Pebbles tried to comfort me all through the next day while cards and messages came through about my Grandmother. But I felt none of it and I did not start feeling a thing until a few weeks later just after the funeral, I accepted Linda's request for a therapist.

It went by so quick before I knew it, a month had past then 2 then before long it was 6. Sam my therapist was ever so patient with me to open up and actually speak in the form of words instead of sounds or gestures. At the 6 month mark I felt like I had finally accepted she's gone, and there was no more hope for a mistake. Sam had offered to help support me though her will that I have been avoiding when I was in denial. I reluctantly accepted as I was sick of the solicitors phone calls asking me to come and retrieve it. He was true to his word and came with me coaching and supporting while we sat and when through the will. Afterwards he took me to get some coffee near by and checked I understood what was given to me and the implications. I did understand all to well I was just mind blown about the inheritance as I never knew Grandmother had a family home or $20.000. It was more but some was spared for the funeral costs and nursing costs. Sam rambled on and on about the possibilities if I sold the house. Some where in amongst his words I interrupted "I'm keeping it". He looked shocked and tried telling me there is time to decide, but I made my point clear again "The house is not being sold".

He seemed taken back but attempted to interject his opinion again but I squashed his chance by downing my coffee and thanking him for his help. Then I abruptly left and walked home with the keys in my pocket and my check for $20.000. I stopped by the bank on the way to deposit it to save time for my trip tomorrow to the house. I spent the night packing a few things and, leaving a message for my voicemail to state to others I will get back to them. The next morning I quickly grabbed breakfast and sorted Pebbles some on the go supplies to keep him content for the drive. Before pulling into reverse out the lot I set the navigation to our destination, which politely informed us we had a 5 hour drive ahead. "Here we go Pebbles" I informed him where he met me with his doe eyes and meowed in response. Pushing the car into gear I set off heading to the outskirts of town and embarking on our adventure, eager to see what Grandmother has been hiding all these years.

We did not arrive till night had already fallen, turned out this place was hard to find and not many people appeared to be forthcoming with directions. I never knew Grandmother even lived in another town other than home. But here I am in a very small village called Black Ridge, that only consisted of a population less than 100. It seemed nothing but small cobble streets and hidden lanes leading off to different estates. I think passed some stores but in the dark with no lights makes it hard differentiate between the buildings. Every one looked exactly the same in terms of colour and build from stone and beams. Houses again looked very similar to one another with white or brown picket fences , and all foundations are stone and wood. One thing that stuck out was that doors were only consisting of 2 colours, blue or green. It was 8pm when we manged to work our way through the lanes and find the right estate. The front gate seemed eerie and run down but held very strong when I pried the rusted lock and chain off. I parked the car at the top of the drive so as I dared risk crashing in the pitch black. For me and Pebbles to even find the front door I needed to search my boot blindly for a torch.

Pebbles clung fiercely as I unlocked the door which was a crimson red, thinking nothing more of it I shoved open the door and entered. Pebbles would not jump down until I located the light switch, the burst of light hurt our eyes. Pebbles ran off into the room off to the left, I called after him worried he gets lost or hurt only to find him near the stone fire place. I could have kissed him but getting some heat into us was more important. Lighting the fire gave the room a golden glow and revealed some of the antique interior. Pebbles made a home for himself on the rug in front of the fire and refused to move, so I decided to find the kitchen to see if I could make some food. On my way I lit some candles to help me find some light switches to save the battery on the torch. I figured this place would be a bit more run down but things seemed fairly in tact just in need of a clean. But I began to boil some water for a hot drink and I heard a thump from behind. I quickly spun and called out "hello" but only my faint echo answered. Calming my heart rate I took a quick look into the hall way, finding nothing but the glow of the fire place from the living room.

Turning back to the whistling of the kettle I rushed to vanquish the noise out of fear someone was here. But silence was all that was around me, I left my worries and proceeded to make tea making quick glances out the window. With one last look around I went to retreat back to Pebbles until a book on the floor to my right caught my eye. I put my cup down and retrieved the book, turning it over in my hands I studied it. It had no title, pages are yellow and yet the leather cover seemed brand new. Picking up my cup I headed back to the living room to take a closer look at the book's content. I settled myself into a chair closest to the fire and soaked up the heat. Opening the book to the first page introduced a welcome note: 'Dear beloved member, This book is now your responsibility to follow and carry out to the gravest importance of human life. We all must take our turn to preserve it and protect our own'. I felt my face crumple in confusion feeling a strong sense of nostalgia processing those words. I shook off the strange feelings and continued to read which appeared to be instructions. For hours I got sucked into these instructions that varied from day to day stuff and special occasion routines. Its pretty much a literal step by step itinerary but of someone's day from waking up to meal times, washing, dressing and exercise.

I fell asleep round about 2am and woke at 10am when Pebbles jumped on me while letting out a high pitched growl. I cuddled him to calm him which was not easy he's not usually that type of cat. He continuously eyed the kitchen door way and refused to enter. I even attempted to carry him in but he furiously attacked me and ran. I let him be and tended to my wounds puzzling over to what got into him. My mind drifted back to what I read last night, why would Grandma document a persons day? and care instructions. I made some tea and toast and settled back down to read more of the book, I got to the part that mentioned the $20,000. I cursed to myself and voiced out loud "So I have to spend the lot on some fabricated person?". The anger boiled in my blood stream and I threw the book at the wall. To my astonishment the wall was not a wall, but seemed to have triggered a secret door. I stepped carefully not knowing what to expect and peered down into the darkness trying to suppress my explorer instinct. I decided against in and slammed it shut and backed away as if some thing was about to jump out at me.

I backed up and bumped into some hard and jumped but before I could escape a mouth clamped over my mouth. I struggled to break free from my captor as we danced around the kitchen. I tried to scream or bite to gain some ground but this figure was way to strong, they seemed so inhuman in the hold they held. I thought this was it until Pebbles launched himself at the attackers face and clawed with all his might. I broke free from the hold and scrambled forward for a weapon, the best thing I could grab was my mug. I threw it and hoped I did not hit Pebbles, the person stumbled back and I quickly nabbed my cat and ran. I struggled with the front door to frantic to work the locks, Pebbles alerted me that we ran of time with a screech. I turned and ducked to evade the grasp and darted for the stairs which I knew was a bad idea as they slowed us down. I shouted to Pebbles to run and go without me knowing he was my only hope right now. He dashed off to safety and I tried my hardest to follow but my foot was caught. I fell on the stairs and they dragged me back down, I became temporally immobilised as my head hitting of the stairs made me woozy. I could watch at they dragged me to the couch and placed me on it, I wished I could beg for my life and prayed Pebbles is ok.

I tried to lift my hand in a last attempt to save myself in the hope they have a heart but instead this beastly creature dropped a book on me. The thing kept tapping on the book while staring at me with black eyes. Its skin was horrid and scarred beyond belief, its nails were long like needles and the teeth were just the same. They looked so mangled I was no even sure what colour they were meant to be or if they had all their limbs at first. I slowly reached for the book and it backed off, not sure what to do next I just stared back. The monster then made a gesture to the book again and I opened it to the first page. It was the start of a day routine I read it over and over praying a answer jumps of the page and slaps me in the face. It was not until It helped me again by tapping the clock on the near by table 11.30am. It a minuet for the penny to drop and I realised that maybe this book was for this creature. I blinked by my tears and forced myself to breath evenly before a panic attack took over. I referred to the book again 11.30am was referencing to two things depending on the day. It was a week day so 11.30am today meant it was time for school and Friday was time to teach art.

I figured at this point I should really do as they wanted as it was clear I was not getting out of this place until I do. I keep my movement slow and tried not to be sudden as I rose from the couch, it summoned me to follow. We exited off to the room opposite the living room which turned out to be a classroom. It took a seat at the desk and awaited me to do to something, taking a quick observation of the room I saw drawings on the wall. I took the inspiration and found some paper in a tray and placed it in front of it. It looked into me as if it was trying to read my insides, creeped out I rushed to the cabinet. Lucky enough Grandma was very organised and had everything in place and labelled. I opened the draw that had art on it and found some paint, squirting it into some containers I brought the supplies over. Again the expectant eyes bored into me blankly, so I got myself some paper and randomly began to paint. It watched me intently and soon began to copy my movements, I kept looking up to check what was happening and to make sure I was not dreaming. I checked the clock and it was almost 12, I got up and took a glance at the book dinner was not until 12.30. I looked back at the frantic monster child who was going to town with the paint, with a smile so wide it was putting the pointed teeth on full display.

I flickered further on in the book past the last place I read and found photos and a back story to this character. Reading the horror this person endured made me drop to my knees, turns out they were an experiment. My Grandma had a child in her younger years and for some reason offered it to be experimented on. She later regretted it knowing she was lied to and they had to suffer the price of her misjudgement. I placed my hand over my mouth trying to cry quietly at the cruel abuse she allowed to be inflicted on her own child. It did not seem like my kind hearted and wise Grandma I thought I knew. Forcing myself to read through my betrayal and disgust I learned there name 'Benjamin'. He was born in late winter and was perfectly healthy as it seemed but before he even reached his 1st birthday his deformity began. The experimenting started when he was still in the womb and continued up until he turned 2. After that the documenting of his results were non existent it was just Grandmas journal entries of how sorry she felt. From his perfect new born self it was only months before his limbs became misshapen. His cognitive levels were very under developed he did not learn to walk till after 3 and could not eat solid food until 2. As for learning basics like reading or words he did not achieve until he turned 15. Which would explain why he still needs schooling in certain topics. Grandma also stated that if his routine was interrupted he can become uncontrollably insistent its followed or drastic consequences will happen.

Further on she recorded the fallen staff she hired to help her with Ben, but when they made the mistake of upsetting him... they died. I slammed the book shut not being able to stomach any more of this living nightmare. I dried my eyes and checked on Ben who was still engrossed in painting. Not wanting to risk my life or subject him to any discomfort I went to prepare dinner. We sat and ate dinner in silence and I guessed that Ben did not learn actually how to speak or maybe he was very limited. He always favoured to communicate with simple gestures like pointing or some sort of mimic action. I followed the routine for the rest of the day surprised how strangely calm I now feel spending the day with him. It came to bed time and I had to bathe him and get his pj's ready for him to dress. It was then story time which had to be from a certain book, we read a story about an alley cat and it brought Pebbles back to mind. I tucked him in and made my way back upstairs wondering why he was kept on a basement. Then his history flooded back and I realised Grandma would have had her reasons. I called for Pebbles with some food figuring it might lure him out. I found him in some sort of a play room snuggled in with some teddy bears. I put down his food and left him to sleep, I was pretty tired out myself and I went to find a bedroom. During my last moments of consciousness I pondered what to spend the $20,000 on and I settled on the idea of giving him an actual room. A one that any child would be over the moon to have, I figured if he is going to be stuck in a child like life. I could at least try and make his last years in happier and humane and erase his horrific start in life.