Left Behind

When the big man and nice lady picked me up from school, she said that my grandpa couldn't come to pick me up. I was nervous cuz Papa always picks me up after school. He would carry me on his shoulders into the gas station every day for a soda pop on our way home, and I would tell him all about my day as I tugged at his bushy white beard. It always felt super rough in my hands. We would go home and he would tell me stories of his adventures from his little black book. There wasn't anything on the front of it and he would never let me look inside. But he always had so many long stories about magical adventures, I figured it was magic too. There was no other explanation. I asked the nice lady why my Papa wasn't here, but all she would say is "He just couldn't be here right now." and put on a plastic Barbie smile. Her eyes did not carry the same energy though, they seemed dull or shallow. The big man was driving us somewhere now and he hasn't said a word at all the whole time. Maybe he was mad that he had to pick me up today. Maybe it would just be better for all of us if my Papa just picked me up.

"I don't understand why Papa's not here." my eyes started dripping with tears. "I wanna see Papa!" I said whimpering and breathing heavily.

"I know honey." the lady said trying to comfort me, but nothing helped. The car ride was taking forever, but before I knew it, the nice lady was shrugging me lightly to wake me up. "Hey buddy we're here." My eyes started to crack, and outside of the car was a large gray building. The big man picked me up in his arms really slowly, probably because the lady wasn't as strong, and his arms were strong like papa's. I didn't want to let go. The two of them took me into the building to meet a much older lady with short gray hair, wrinkly skin, and bright red glasses that made my coat look dull. She seemed gentle and kind, but that didn't make any of this better. I want to go home. The old lady stood up and walked around her desk to come hug me.

"Hey buddy." She said to me. "Something happened to your grandfather so your gonna stay here for a little while Okay?" No that wasn't okay! I thought to myself. I just wanted to go home with Papa and listen to his cool stories and drink soda pop with him.

"What happened to him?" My eyes were starting to well up with tears, what happened to Papa?

"I wish you could understand, but unfortunately he isn't with us anymore, so we will be taking care of you until you get a little older."

"I don't want to be older, I want to go home with Papa!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, panicked. I threw my arms around and jumped up and down, stomping my feet as hard as I could. I fell to the ground, rolling back and forth, hoping my Papa would come in and tell me to get a grip. That's what he always said, but unfortunately, he never walked through the door. All I could do was throw a fit as the three adults just stood there in silence. The big man lifted his hand to his face while he turned around holding back tears of his own, and in my panic attack I couldn't understand what he must have been experiencing. Or the two ladies, I didn't care. By the time I settled down, someone other than the people who saw me cry, showed me to my new bed around dozens of other beds with kids in and out of them. They told me that I was now an orphan because I no longer had any relatives alive. Before the other kids and I were ready to go to sleep, the old lady from earlier came to sit on my bed with a little black book clutched in her arms. There wasn't anything on hers either.

"Have you seen this before?" The lady asked me.

"Yeah, Papa has one like it."

"This is your grandfather's and it was his last request for it to be given to you." His book? He would never let me even peek inside of it, let alone let me read all of it. "He said it contained something that he only wanted you to see." So I took it from her and just before she left, she said she will always be there if I ever wanted to talk. Then she left right before the lights were turned off, with all of us kids in our beds. For the rest of the night I laid there holding back gallons of tears because I didn't want to wake anyone up or bother them. I thought about Papa's book that I put under my pillow and it was so hard to stay quit. Once I settled down, I grabbed the book and walked over to the window that was right next to a street light. It was just bright enough that if I squinted my eyes a little I could make out the scribbles that my Papa made.

Hey little guy,

I know I said to never read this, but that's because I never finished it. I wasn't much of a person before my little guy came along(your my little guy). And the circumstances were unfortunate. I'm sorry I can't be there to pick you up anymore, I know that was your favorite part of everyday. I've been sick for a long time and I never told you because I wasn't sure you would understand and I realized that too late to fix it. I wish I could see you grow up to be the fine young man I know you'll become, and I'm sorry I can't be there anymore. This book is the story I started to write when you came into my life, and I hate asking this of you especially this way, but will you carry it out and finish it for me? I can't imagine the burden this all is on you and I am truly sorry that I can't be there for you anymore. All I ask is that you make the most of everything you have and live your life in the happiest way you can imagine. This unfinished story isn't the only thing I left you though. When you get a little older, there will be twenty thousand dollars in your name. I know it's not a lot, but that was all I could manage to save up for you. I wish it was more, I wish I could be there for every important moment in your life but I can't. So please, if nothing else, please carry me in your heart, because you will always be in mine.

From Papa,

I wish you the happiest life!

Those were your last words to me grandpa. Since you left, I read that letter you wrote me so long ago, everyday. It's been ten years since the first time I read that letter. The story you left for me to finish, I finished it when I got a little older and I used the money you left me to publish it. I remembered all of the stories you told me about, and I wrote those too. Your last words to me will not be your last words. Now I'm striving to be an author that readers will want to carry in their hearts like you carried me in yours. I hope your proud of me Papa. I miss you more than anything else in this world, and thank you for everything you did. I wish I knew how to put these feelings into words, so I guess that's what I'm really striving for. I'm striving to find the words to thank you.

From your Little Man

I miss you so much.