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GRIMEA
Chapter 2 – Call it What You Want

Chapter 2 – Call it What You Want

Call it what you want, think of it how often you’d like, but in the end, no man has the power to reverse death. When someone dies, it’s like the last drop of water being dried up from a lake; once the water is gone, it’s no longer a lake, is it?

My mother tells me all the time about how great a man my dad was and how much he loved our family, that he gave his life to protect us, and blah, blah. Honestly, I don’t buy that hero crap; it’s all a sham to hide the fact that he was a coward who chose to die rather than take care of his own kid.

It’s not like I’m a prize sent by God. I don’t laugh, I don’t cry. My hair is black with, guess what, a white stripe. Maybe when I look at it, I ask myself if maybe God tried to save me but couldn’t. My teeth are pointy and sharp like a knife. Everyone who sees me calls me the devil, Grim, the boy with no soul, and whatever else their minds come up with.

I usually get into fights all the time because, why not? If someone’s picking on you, you pick them back. If they want to say that I have no soul, then I’ll play the role. What else is a Grim like me to do?

He’s a Grim of a Boy

It’s noon, and when the sun is at its highest, Mother sends me into town to buy all the food that’s going to carry us for the next month.

“Two fish, one loaf of bread, seven carrots, nine potatoes, and a bag of sugar. You got that right?”

“Yes, Mother, I got it. Two fish, one loaf of bread, seven carrots, nine potatoes, and a bag of sugar.”

Two fish, one loaf of bread, seven carrots, nine potatoes, and a bag of sugar. Two fish, one loaf of bread, seven carrots, nine potatoes, and a bag of sugar. How could I not get it? We buy the same thing every month, eat the same things every day. Living in the same broken-down cabin, day in and day out. How could a Grim like me forget?

I’ve known my mother my whole life, and I always get this feeling as though she hates me or despises me in some way. I mean, why wouldn’t she? I am the reason that my father left. I’m the reason that we’re living in an old wooden cabin in the middle of nowhere. Call me whatever you’d like, but when you live in a place like this, nothing gets to me anymore.

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When the night arrives, I’m greeted by fireflies and raindrops from the open sky that I can clearly see from the once roof of my room. On my bed, I have the most beautiful view. So, what if I’m soaked by morning and my body aches as if I were run over by a horse? A Grim should never complain, and if I’m the devil as they claim, I should feel right at home.

A life like mine, no one truly knows.

Now, you may be wondering, where’s my mother in all this? Well, she is just fine, covered head to toe under her blanket that I once owned. I may be a Grim, but what man leaves his mother to feel cold? If she gets sick, then I’ll be left alone. If she dies, then I’ll have no one to call my own. To me, it doesn’t matter how she treats me because I know she tries. No woman deserves this kind of life. I see it in her face; I know she cares. I hear her cries from the other side of the room. No matter what she does—cover her mouth, wipe her eyes—she’s still my mother inside.

I know I said earlier that I think my mother must hate me for being her child, but in these times, these moments in the night, when I hear her cries, I know who she really is inside.

So, yeah, I take the rain, and I feel like I’m being showered by her tears. That’s why I don’t mind.

He’s a Grim of a Boy; but he has a heart

BOOM, BOOM

Damn, there goes my peaceful night.

“Mother, Mother; wake up. Mother, come on, we have to go now. There’s a storm coming.”

If only I knew, God, if only I knew that this would be the last time. I would have at least tried to smile.

Sh-shu-Ban

Where am I? What am I doing out here in a thunderstorm, digging in a muddy hole at night? Well, I’m understanding that life doesn’t always go the way one would like.

“AHHHHHHHH!

God, please, why, why, please tell me why.

What could I have done? What did I miss? I was right there. She didn’t have to die.”

I have nothing now. I’m all alone, that’s it. And even now, I still can’t cry. A devil I really am.

Thunder crackles

Lightning strikes

What’s happening? This storm doesn’t seem real anymore. It grew unbelievably huge.

Lightning strikes

Damn, did the lightning just strike that tree? It looks as if there’s nothing left of it, but it’s so hard to see.

“Ah, awh awh, hot, hot, hot. My butt’s on fire, aww.”

What’s that sound? I thought I heard someone yelling.

“Well, you heard right. I was yelling. I need to get my head recalibrated because that was the worst lightning I’ve had in my seven hundred years of being alive.”

Who is this? And how did he know what I was thinking when I didn’t say anything out loud? He looks strange also. I’ve never seen a human like this before.

“It’s because I’m not a human, kid. Wasn’t my landing clear enough for you? I fell from the sky through a lightning bolt and burned my ass and am still here to tell the tale. No normal humans are capable of doing that. No offense, but all humans are weak and narrow-minded. You go around claiming lands, burning down buildings, wars after wars after wars, and still, to this day, are fighting more wars. Oh, I’m sorry. When I start going on about you humans, I find it hard to stop.

Now, let’s get down to why I’m here and stop looking at me like I’m crazy.

Today is your lucky day kid, well night, I guess, Whatever.

You've selected along with twelve others to live in the other world. Your life is only going to get better from here on out kid. All you have to do is sign these papers and will be on our way.”