Writing Prompt
One stormy day, I was out gathering flowers
for my grandmother’s kitchen table when a
shot went off in the distance. It came in the
direction of the house. My grandmother’s
house. Birds shot out of their hiding spots
and flew off. Then a black crow flew over
me. Instant dread and fear pumped deep into
my heart. Panic overwhelmed me. I rush
back to the house, calling for Grandmamma,
but as I got closer, men were outside. They
had guns, and were celebrating. I had to find
Grandmamma. But, just as my fear of what
happened to her. I noticed two men dragging
a limp body out of the house. I crept closer. I
recognized the limp body as Grandmamma.
Now, ten years later, I am working inside a
library when a stranger dropped of a note for
me. I picked it up and read it. It said,
“You’re Grandmamma id dead but now we
are coming after you.”
Fear and dread from all those years ago
came bubbling back along with anger and
tears. What was I going to do now? If this
was indeed connected to Grandmamma’s
death then I too will be dead, if I don’t do
something first.