Goodbye Is A Word Best Not Said by Molly Fleming (readict TXT) 📕

I met my grandpa on the streets of london. I was 17 at the time and he was 87. I was still in school he was still in the gutters. He wasnt biological but I loved him all the same

I had just come home from school and my mum sent me out to go get some sort of magazine ( Shes into all that nonsense) And I smelt weed. I hate the smell of weed and awkwardly I decided to follow the smell and it went to the bins of a indian take away resteraunt. I decided not to go have a look. So I got my mums magazine and I could still smell weed on the way back. I knew how I could see behind the bins if I took a slightly longer route. And there it was. A old man behind the bins crying and 2 teenage lads kicking him. I couldnt stand for this. They looked about 13. So I grabbed them by the collar and dragged them away from the old man. I asked the old man if he was okay and I gave him a hand to help him to his feet. He put his hands together asif praying and started jolting them towards me. I could tell that ment thank you. I wondered if he could talk english. I had about £3 change from the magazine and I was meant to get some stuff for myself. But instead I took the man into the shop and I pointed to the chilled foods isle. He could speak english and he asked me if I was sure. He picked up a sandwich and pointed to the price. It was £1.50 and I said yes. And then he was just about ready to go and I said, No I will get you a drink too. I went and got a massive 3 litre bottle of water. He was so thankfull.

Then I offered to walk him home and he said no, I insisted and then I took him to the bins as he had directed, that was his home. I would have thought that it would have a been on the council estate or something. I felt so sorry for him. All he had was a squashed card board box to lie on. I told him that if ever the children caused him trouble that he was to come to me. I felt so bad as that was his only possesion.

It was saturday the next day and I knew what I was going to do. I was saving up for driving lessons but I didnt NEED to drive. He NEEDED to have a comfy stay. I was only 17 so I didnt know how the concil estate thing worked out so I couldnt do anything like that. I had recently got a kings size bed and I needed a new quilt cover so I still had my old one and the old pillows. I took them to him without my mum knowing. My mother isnt very open minded. I took him the things and a box of cheerios and a bowl. Then I took him for some milk. He was so thankful. I said I would be back in time for lunch.

I was back there he was so happy to see me he even gave me a hug. I felt asif I was his mother or something. And I brought him a whole picknic basket full of things. I took the cheerios and the milk back to keep them fine and okay so I could give them to him tommorow. He soon had polished the whole lot off. And then he bizzarely he started to cry. I didnt know why and it wasnt any of my business either.

The next day I went to the bins with his cheerios and he wasnt there. Well.. Physically he was but he was dead, The man that I had concidered family..Dead. I payed for a funeral and everything my mother wasnt very pleased as I expected. but she was proud of me. A Year later and every day I go and visit him. Apparently his name was Donald Smith. My Grandpa Donald Smith.. :')

Publication Date: 04-21-2011

All Rights Reserved