"Hurry on, hurry!" Grandmama whisper-shouted, "Down the stairs, down..."
"Darling," Grandpapa whispered to me as Grandmama hobbled down the stairs, "Why? Why did you-"
"I had to, Grandpapa." I said, resting my head on his shoulder, "I- I wasn't thinking. Linoca was my everything. And I lost her. So I joined her,"
Grandpapa nodded. "You have murdered your parents' hearts. I pray that God will let you in through the gates of heaven!"
"Grandpapa," I stuttered as we began to follow Grandmama down the stairs, "Will- do you think- will he- I- I..."
"You have lived a life he enjoyed to watch. You are a beautiful soul Anica."
"I am- wouldn't that be- I'm a beautiful preson?" I questioned.
"No, a person is a living being, with a body. We are souls. We have bodies, Anica. Not the other way around."
"Come, come!" Grandmama squealed.
Granpapa and I looked at each other and followed her quickly. She hopped through the hall, into the kitchen again, around the table and into the back garden. There was a 7 year old version of Linoca of I, playing in the sandbox. We were rolling around and slapping the sand.
The memory hadn't even faded when Grandmama said, "Come now, they are your memories from each room! We are running late! COME!"