The Daughter Who Was Supposed to Die Chapter 08

The Daughter Who Was Supposed to Die Chapter 08

I froze in shock.

“Grandma…”

The words formed silently in my mouth.

Grandma gave a tiny nod, tears welling up at the corners of her eyes.

“I can see you, little girl.”

The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over.

So after I died, someone really could see me.

Someone knew I was here.

Grandma reached me out with her worn, trembling hand. It swept through the air and stopped where my

cheek would be.

“You’ve suffered so much, sweetheart,” she choked out. “All these years. You’ve endured so much.”

I threw myself at her, trying to hug her, but I went straight through. Nothing. Just air.

I stopped in midair, stared at my see-through hands, and cried so hard my whole body shook.

As if she could feel it, Grandma opened her arms, ready for a hug.

“Come on. Come to Grandma.”

Her voice was as gentle as the warmest spring breeze. “I’m holding you.”

I drifted over and came to rest in her arms.

“Grandma…” I mouthed softly.

“Yeah, your grandma is here,” she answered. Big, heavy tears fell from her eyes. “I’m here. Don’t be scared. Annic.”

We stayed like this for a long time. Grandina was hugging the empty air, while I was also hugging but couldn’t truly be felt. Finally, both of us cried for a long, long me.

Until the oil lamp’s flare flickered, and the moon climbed to mid-sky outside the window

Then finally, Grandma let me go. Then she walked into the cabinet, taking a plump, bright red moonlight honeyfruit, washed it carefully, and set it gently in front of my urn.

“Go on, eat,” she said, looking at me with a soft smile. “I saved you a whole one. All of it. It’s all yours.”

I floated to the fruit and crouched down.

When I was alive, I never once had a whole honeyfruit.

Half always went to Millie, and the smaller half went to me.

And now, I had a whole honeyfruit. Just for me.

The sweet smell hit my nose. I nodded eagerly.

Grandma watched me. She smiled, and then the tears fell again.

“Annie,” she whispered, “are you leaving?”

I looked at her and gave a small nod.

Grandma was quiet for a long time-so long the sky outside began to pale.

Finally, she lifted her head, looking at me, then gave me a bittersweet smile.

“Alright,” she rasped. “It’s better for you to go. If you go, no more pain for you. No more being wronged.”

She stood, walked to me, and opened her arms again, gently hugging the empty air.

Dawn slowly arrived.

The first light slipped through the window and fell across Grandma’s silver hair, across her face streaked with tears.

It fell on me too, on a body going more and more transparent.

I reached out, wanting to touch Grandma’s cheek one last time.

My fingertips slid through sunlight, through air, but they touched nothing.

Grandma watched me fade, lighter and lighter, clearer and clearer, until she finally covered her face and broke down, sobbing out loud.

I gave her one last look.

One last look at the only person who, after I died, could see me, hold me, and give me a whole honeyfruit.

Then I turned and drifted toward the rising light.

Higher and higher. Farther and farther away.

The shadow of the old house thinned and vanished.

Grandma’s crying faded away.

The whole world turned into a gentle, clean white light.

Within that light, I let my eyes close.

I felt wonderful.

From now on, I won’t hurt anymore.

(The End)