My grandpa always said I could be anything I wanted.
Then again, one day I walked in on him having elaborate sex with my grandma, so his words lost all meaning to me.
They didn't notice me there, standing with my hand still on the doorknob and my mouth wide open. They continued on with their love-making (although to me it looked more like hate-making but I digress). I was too shocked to move so I stood there frozen, not able to believe what I was seeing right in front of my young eyes.
Two wrinkly, drooping bodies melting into one. My grandpa's balls. it was just all too much. My body responded. I started puking violently and uncontrollaby.
At first, my grandparents were still too wrapped up in their festivities to notice anything in the outside world. An atomic bomb could've gone off in the kitchen and they would've just kept on going, switching up positions occasionally.
My grandpa couldn't walk without a walker and my grandma without a wheelchair, but somehow they were healed in the sack, free of all necessary medical assistance, clothes, and inhibitions.
I started crying while still throwing up, like a next-morning hangover in the toilet after a night of heavy tequila drinking, except I was way too young to underage drink.
Finally, my grandpa finished on my grandma's face and told her to "go on now! Git, woman!" He had an angry and tired look in his eyes. I was just hoping those eyes didn't move a millimeter over and catch me.
He walked over to the edge of the bed and sat down, with his back to me and his head in his hand.
My naked grandmother started walking away from him and towards me. I cowered in fear. The only thing more embarrassing than walking in on your grandparent's having sex is your grandparent's seeing you after the fact.
But then suddenly my grandma started sneezing. Over and over. She didn't see me as she sneeze-walked by me, her eyes closed mid-sneeze.
I heard my grandpa mumble "quit sneezin', ya goddamn bitch" as he got up from the bed, still naked, and slowly reached over to the dresser, grabbing a framed picture of me.
I was about 4 in the picture. It was taken by my dad. I had swung at one of those tee-balls and missed. I was staring right at the camera with a goofy, innocent look on my face, and wide blue eyes.
My grandpa just stared at the picture for a long time, not moving. I stood shaking not five feet behind him in a small puddle of my vomit, trying not to make any noise. I couldn't even wipe the tears from my eyes or the vomit from the outside of my mouth for fear of making a noise.
Then my little sister burst into the room. She yelled for grandpa. He snapped up reflexively, looked at her, then me, then down at his penis, still half-erect from his recent sexcapades.
He snapped and roared "GOD DAMN IT" as he threw the picture of me against the wall like he was throwing a baseball. The glass shattered as I ran out of the room, through the kitchen, and out the living room door. I could hear my grandma still sneezing in the bathroom. "Gee fucking whillikers," she said between sneezes.
I ran as fast as my little legs would take me. Everything was a blur. I blocked everything out of my head, trying to repress my short term memory. I kept running, longer than I'd ever run before and faster than I'd ever run before.
I ran and I fucking ran. Nothing on my mind. Just going faster and faster and farther and farther ahead. Eventually, the street I was on turned into a 45MPH speed limit and it was probably pretty dangerous for me to be running on the side of it. It didn't matter to me, however it did matter to the cop who started driving slowly next to me. He called my parents and had them pick me up. He apparently didn't have enough gas to drive me all "the way back to Ainsworth."
My parents didn't say anything to me on the ride home. I didn't say anything to them. The radio was turned off. The only sound was of my dad occasionally coughing.
When we got back to the house, there was no sign of grandpa or grandma. They were gone. They were gone the next day too, and the day after that. And the day after that…
A few months later, I heard that my grandma had died and my grandpa was very sick. He was transported from the nursing home they had been living in to a hospital. A rainy night a few weeks after, my mom and dad got all dressed up and went out one night. My sister said she thinks grandpa had died and that mom and dad were going to his funeral, but I never asked and I didn't care.