Bet (100 words)
“Do it,” was the last thing my grandmother ever said to me. 24 hours later, she was dead; slipped away in her sleep, joining my grandfather in whichever version of heaven they believed in. She was so funny: how she could always tell when I was hesitating, when something was taking too long to take shape in my mind or my heart. In this case, it was the latter. I did do it though; they were out. I wondered if she would be proud of me for finally saving myself from my family. Toxicity had no place in my 2023.
Bet (50 words)
“Do it,” was the last thing my grandmother said to me before she died. She could always tell when I was hesitating in regard to my mind or heart. The latter, in this case. I did it though. I wondered if she would take pride in me finally saving myself.