Destined

81

By the time I got to my house, it was 1 at noon. Right after I had left Amira's I went to buy more alcohol from people I knew. Usually niggas would sell it along with weed behind the Meadows Mall.

I wasn't drunk, but I was a bit intoxicated.

I knocked on my door countless of times before realizing it had already been opened. I stepped inside, looking around to see no one in my living room. I was surprised, until I thought about where my sister and mother had to be.

The hospital. They had clearly stayed over night.

I didn't because I knew my grandmother was dead. The doctors were just going to try to put together their own story on how she died and I just couldn't sit through it. I hoped that whenever my mother and sister left the hospital they would keep the details from me, because the last thing I needed was a synopsis of how she died in her own home.

I made my way to my room, slamming the door. My room was starting to get filthy, but I had no motivation to clean it at all. I felt like dirtying it up even more just to see how dirty it could get.

I started to throw clothes against the walls, socks against my dresser, and I messed up my entire bed by pulling the sheets off of it. I felt a strong sensation come in my chest, signaling I was about to cry, but I stopped myself. I didn't want to cry anymore. Crying wasn't going to bring her back. My eyes fixated on a white envelope that had my name on it. It was under my speaker and it was the same envelope my grandma had given me just a couple days before. I remembered her soft words. I remembered exactly what she said the longer I stared at it.

***

2 days ago...

"I bought you something," she said, reaching for her pocket. "Now, I don't want you to open this Jayon until you think you've lose hope in something, or even someone. Hope lingers, and I want to make sure you always have it. Don't stop your life because of a change you're not use too. Life is full of surprises, good and bad," She pulled a white envelope out, my name had been written on it. she handed me the envelope, watching me as I stared at it.

"I love you gramma," I had told her.

"I love you just a bit more," she laughed softly.

***

The flashback comes to a dreadful end, and realization starts up. I knew my grandmother had a feeling she was leaving us. She knew I would have a hard time with this, she knew all along.

I began to tear open the envelope, balling up my fists at what started to fall out. It was cash. So much cash. I poured all of it on my bed, placing the bills into different sections while trying to find a note somewhere in between the money. There had to be some sort of last message she left me.

A small paper which had been folded multiple times began to unravel. I opened it fully, glimpsing over it. It had been written by my grandmother clearly. The words were bold, in black ink and kind of small, but I knew how to read it. I started from the beginning:

Dear Jayon,
If you're reading this, it's because you have lost hope. You knew losing hope was something I never wanted you to do, but you did it anyway. I need you to be strong and face whatever it is that you think you can't. I taught you better than this. I want you to be something, I need you to make me proud. I probably am not there to celebrate your victories with you anymore but I'm with you in your heart. I've set up a devised plan to make sure you go to college. This is money I've been saving since the day you were born. All the gifts I've gotten you are things I want you to pass along to my grandchildren, if I have any. (Have children)
I love you so much. Please understand that this was bound to happen. It's the circle of life, and you are the next generation. Give your sister 500 dollars just because. I have a feeling she won't be attending college. Give your mother a thousand, and tell her I love her. Use the rest to open your very first bank account to put the money in, and wait until you graduate to use the money for your tuition. Have an amazing life, and if you ever need me, look at the sky and pray.
Sincerely, your Grandma.