She left, she took her stuff and left. "What about me?!?!?!" I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to so bad, but i was speechless. Speechless because I didn't know what to do, speechless because I wouldn't have anyone to come home to, but most of all, because she got up, and walked. Walked straight out the door. Walked. Walked? No way, thiis had to be a dream, just a few days ago, she couldn't even pee by herself. Walked, she walked I was dumbfounded. I swear at least 3 flies flew into my mouth by the time she had taken 2 steps. At first she took it slow, and she started to pick up the pace, and I couldn't believe my eyes. My deathly ill grandmother was walking. 

I waved goodbye as she walked down the front steps and started across the lawn. Then I heard the yelp escape my lips as I saw a black Jaguar pull up, it looks JUST like my mother's, my gram must have seen it too, beecause she fell over. Then I realized she didn't fall over because of the car, she fell over because of a bullet. I yelped again, but it was a horrifying sound, like a dying cat, or a dying grandma. "Call 911!!!1" I screamed.
 


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