Conversations This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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   " ... have you been? I tried to come in yesterday but ... and then the kids started whining about going to Dairy Queen for dessert ..."



Listen to her; my niece telling me about her family, her spoiled kids. I've only seen them twice but all they do was harass their mother. No wonder, the way she treats them in the first place. They have no respect for each other. All their mouths are yapping but their ears are plugged.



" ... so sorry about your condition, Auntie Gwen. If only there was something we could do ..."



Something she could do? She's never done anything before. Had to wait till I was on my deathbed before she decided she cares about me.

Her perfume gives me a headache. And she's always got on that mask of make-up. What's she hiding? Not much.



" ... should let her get some rest. It's been a long morning ... back soon with your afternoon meds ..."



Ha, ha, Dr. Green. I haven't been taking his meds so far. Why does he think I'll start now? I know what he's been told to do. String me along till I'm conscious for long enough to update my will. What a terrible doctor he is! I've been conscious all along. I'm just waiting quietly for nature to finish me off when the time is right.



" ... too bad you can't hear me but it doesn't really matter. We've never had much to say to each other. You were never there in my childhood ... what matters is that I'm your only heir. They're all trying to get what's rightfully mine ..."



My dear son. He's right. We never have spoken much; no understanding of each other. It's too bad but I've never been able to think of him as my child. He's lived his whole life waiting for his inheritance. Fool.



" ... rode our bikes all afternoon. I ran over a moth and went back to check on it. It had a broken wing so I kept it in a box with grass and flowers and other bugs but this morning it was gone. I hope it flew away all better. Then Bobby and I built ..."



Clayton my grandson. His voice is music to my deafened ears. He's so pure and honest, my greatest pride. What can I give him? My assets are all properly divided; I will make no changes. I will give him all I have left, that which is inside me.

I open my eyes with one last twinkle and my lips form around the whisper, "I'll miss you."

Silence. 1


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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