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Personal Experience.

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Personal Experience We sat alone in her room, my mother and I, waiting for her. I looked around, searching the walls for a smudge of dirt, the curtains for a slight tear or stain, something to stop it from looking so plain, so sterile and un-used. No such luck. I felt so awkward, just sitting there, on the corner of her firm, crease free bed. There was silence. I don't know what Mum was thinking, but I could tell from her expression it wasn't about taking me home. She looked worried, but to be quite honest I didn't see anything scary about visiting Granny, except maybe this room. ...read more.


My mother, nudging me to get up, answers the door to a stern looking women in a sickly green coloured uniform. She glares at my mum, then at me. Lips tightly pursed together and eyes thin as slits. She was not the prettiest of people I've seen. "Mrs Neil, correct?" spits the woman. Mum nods, giving me another unsure glance. "Why is she acting so strangely?" I thought to myself as the green woman stomped into the opposite room. I was about to find out. "Look," my mother started, "Grandma's not how she used to be you know..." she sighed, seeming to search in her head for the right way to word it. ...read more.


Partly from pity, but also guilt. I could feel the sting of tears building. How could I not have noticed, not cared enough to notice? This poor frail body used to be so alive. My mother had been softly talking to her whilst I'd been fixed on appearances. I hardly realised, as the sound Granny made was no more than a gentle, scratchy whisper. I felt awful inside and turned to Mum, forcing back tears. I watched. Their eyes, so similar, both looking desperately for hope, happiness. My mums smooth young hand moved off the bed and slowly, shaking, was placed on Gran's. She held it so cautiously, as if it could be crushed, and crumble any second. I knew as soon as I saw her, things weren't going to end quite as I'd imagined. ...read more.

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