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Personal Story- Grandmother's Sad Life My grandma died while squatting over a bathroom. Folks say she deserved it. They say the way of her death reveals what a wicked lifestyle she led. God punished her and killed her in midst her very own wastes. If they wrapped her body in a yellow sheet, then I didn't cry. They laid her into the living room and her white hair spilled like milk on the red carpet. They say she had been very mild, wrapped in that yellow sheet. Her soul had left her body and taken all of her sinful heaviness away. I could see signs of her nude body under that sheet. She had been washed clean by her own death, and just like a piece of newspaper that's wetted and left to dry, I thought she would soon crumble. I didn't cry once I looked at the blue hollowness beneath her eyes, and also the red puffiness of her lips when the rest of the body was a leathery yellowish. I didn't cry as I prayed on her body in respect. They took her away in an dilapidated old ambulance. Nothing in her life was stable. Perhaps thatвЂ™s why I didn't cry. I wanted to be the 1 thing she could rely upon as steady. I wanted her withered body under that sheet to know that I had been her success. I wished to thank her and say yes , yes grandmother, yes; I am powerful enough. I will survive. There was a woman who used to wake up before sunrise and operate to her favourite hilltop and flap her arms just like a crazy bird in the sunlight. She always wanted to fly. She would scream and flap arms and send non clouds skittering around her brown legs like snakes slipping on moist sand. Her silhouette is pinned before a rising gold orb forever. She screams and flaps her arms into eternity. They say her dad favored her because she had been the youngest. She had been allowed...