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Drips. Water dripped continuously onto the wash basin, somehow annoyingly, when it was all you could hear at three in the morning. I decided to get out of the bed that made me ache every morning, and close the tap. I guess Granpapa had left it on again. He left it open just a bit every night. But I always forgot, then I wake up in the dark, and end up turning it off. Except, I would always wake up at three, exactly three. No no, never four, or four thirty, but exactly at three.
The washroom was right next to my room, so I didn't have to walk far, and my parents never awoke when I walked into the washroom. Grandpapa's room was farther up along the hallway, next to the lamp.
"Why does Grandpapa always leave it on..And just a bit to make it drip too." I said, as I saw a faint face next to my shoulder in the mirror.
"Grandpapa! Why are you awake?"
He said nothing. He never did.
B
ut I noticed he had something in his hand, something long and thin, and it looked twisted.
Grandpapa started lifting his hand up, and I saw it had two round things at the ends but it was still too dark to see, so I switched the light on. I froze. He was holding a rope. A thick, brown rope with barbed wires wrapped around it.
"Grandpapa, wha- what are you doing with tha-that-that . . ."
He lifted it slowly to my throat, just as I screamed "GRANDPAPA!!"
I shut my eyes and held them tightly, my hand clenching the tap.
"Rowena?" I squinted my eyes, just to see if it was who I thought.
"Mother, Grandpapa- Granpapa-, he he he he, Granpapa-"
"Rowena, how many times do we have to go over this? Your grandfather is dead!"
She left, opening the door to my room, and ushered me in.
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