Isabel Weaver, 
October 10th, 2023 
Dirty pots, pans, and dishes filled the sink and covered the counter. That is what consumed me as I walked into my grandmother’s house. The house that had been home to my mother her whole childhood. I like to imagine how many friends my mom had coming over, how many birthday parties were held and sleepovers alike. 
 I had not been back here since I was 6 years old. I am now 23 years old and back for the first time since that unaware age. I duck as I walk under the ceiling fan that I used to think was as tall as the sky but I’m now taller. I miss this place in lots of ways. The loving memories with her that sit every place I look. The thought that she is really gone is still unimaginable in my head. On top of that is the idea I didn’t visit her in her own house for the last 17 years of her life.  
“Maverick, are you ok honey?” My mom asks as she looks at the expressions on my face. 
“Yeah.” I say as I wipe my nose and hold back the tears that want to be there but can't. 
“If this is too much, we don’t have to be here...” My mom starts but I cut her off mid-sentence. 
“No. I want to do this.” I second guessed my tone when I said that sentence because of the look on my mom's face.  
“Okay. As long as you know you can handle it.” My mom says concerned but allows me to do this. 
Thank God. I couldn’t have handled any more of that conversation. The guilt has been built up since the funeral last Tuesday, I hadn’t called to check up on her for 2 years, 2 years with no contact. The last 2 years of her life and I hadn’t even bothered to call for a minute. First, I stopped going to her house and then by the end of her life I wasn’t even talking to her anymore. My Grandmother was one of the best people I knew. She was kind and always put other people first. She died of a heart attack in her sleep April 7th, 2023, at 1:34am.  
She was 86 and living by herself, my grandpa had died 3 years prior due to Alzheimer’s disease. She had been living by herself for the last 3 years with little to no help from our family. As I look around, I notice that the dishes must not have been washed in months due to the amount of mold growing on them. The sink was a terrarium at this point it is just missing the dirt. The mold had overtaken the dishes to the point they were almost not visible and had started growing out of the sink and onto the marble countertop.  
That was my mother's favorite thing about this house, she loved the marble countertops and how cold they were in the summer to lay her face on after being out in the heat. My mother starts to walk into the living room, so I follow. The floor is covered in trash, boxes upon boxes are half packed, clothes are everywhere some hanging out the side of boxes some without even being folded.  
“What happened in here.” I asked my mom as she looked puzzled as well. 
“I don’t know.” My mom says. A solid answer but not the one I was looking for. We walk deeper into her house looking into the new disaster every room opens up. Each room worse than the last, garbage is piled in each room with a hideous stench fuming throughout the house that we cannot seem to escape from.  After the dreadful walk through the house, we make it up to her bedroom and it is absolute horror. Clothes are spread all over the floor, bugs are crawling around under our feet.  
The white rococo swirl wallpaper is peeling off the wall, it makes it feel like it has been an abandoned house for a long time. The only thing that is in good shape in that bedroom is her perfectly made bed. Different from the garbage covered floor, the bed that happens to be only a few inches off that garbage has a light purple Mandala across the fluffy comforter. The pillows are silk but have a cream color to them, the bed sheets are the same cream color, but they are softer and cozier. 
 I can't help but crawl into bed and lay down. Just for a minute to remember what it was like with her here. I don’t remember being this tired when we first showed up at Grandmas house but now, I can't even keep my eyes open for long enough to worry about the bugs or the smell. That has all disappeared since laying here. I thought I was asleep for a moment, but I am awake.  
“Mom!” I yell throughout the house. No answer. She must have gone somewhere for a minute, probably the market down the street to get cleaning supplies. I stayed laying in the bed for about 10 minutes thinking that I would get back up when my mom came home. But she never did. 
I get up from the bed and look out of the window that shows the front yard and the driveway. Her car is still there. She must just not have heard me. I am reassuring myself as I walk through the still trashed house looking for her. She is not here.   
“MOM!”, “MOM!”, “MOM!” I yell everywhere I walk in the house. I even yell it outside so I can check that place off the box too. I don’t get it, where could she be. She couldn’t have just disappeared off the face of the earth in the 10 minutes I was laying down.  
“The cemetery” I mumble under my breath well think of places she could be. The cemetery is right behind her house and that is where my grandma is buried. I assumed that she went there because the emotions became too much for her to handle in the house and just wanted to go see her.  
I walk outside and head towards the cemetery, but I see that all my mom’s stuff is spread out on the part of the lawn I couldn’t see from the window in my grandma's bedroom. I ran to the cemetery praying she was there.  
“MOM! HELLO WHERE ARE YOU!” I yell out as I run to my grandma's grave. Nothing. My mom isn't there. Where could she be? I pulled out my phone and started dialing the infamous number everyone knows by heart, 911.  
After a struggle of panic on the phone, the police showed up at my grandma's house after about 15 minutes. Those 15 minutes felt like an eternity. I ran off my grandmother's porch once the cops got here to try to tell them what happened, but something is off. They fully ignored my existence. I was standing right next to them as they knocked on the front door to the house. The officer knocking must be married for a while, he has a gold ring with a big scratch across it. 
“Hello sir, I'm right here.” I said a bit confused.  
“Looks like no one is home. Must be another false alarm, we have been getting too many lately.” The cop says to his partner standing next to him. I watch as they turn around, get in the car and drive away.  
“What is happening?” I ask myself out loud. My mom goes missing and now the cops are ignoring me? I look to the side of me and the car I had looked at multiple times is gone. My mom's car is not in the driveway. I ran to the side of the yard where I had seen her stuff spread out only half an hour ago. It's all gone. Did I imagine those things? Was her car really gone all along?  Scenarios race through my mind as I am sitting on the front steps of the Porch defeated as to what is happening.  
I look up to see my mom pulling into the driveway.  
“MOM!” I say in excitement.  
“Where have you been? I called the cops, and they ignored me! Can you believe that? Mom?” She walks straight past me like I'm not there. I follow.  
“Honey, I'm back from the grocery store!” My mom yells as she walks into the house and slams the door leaving me outside.  
“Knock Knock Honey. Wake up.” My eyes slowly open. It is a bit foggy at first, the spit running down the side of my face is now on the pillow.  
“You must've been really tired!” my mom says as she sits on my grandma's bed. “You fell asleep about an hour ago right after we got here. I don’t know how you fell asleep with this smell.” 
“I was asleep?” I ask confused of what is going on.  
“Yes, that’s why I went to the grocery store”  
“So, you never went missing or had the police come?” I asked still confused 
“What? No of course not. Oh, your grandmother did want to give this to you before she passed. It’s a gold ring she got from your grandfather before he passed.” The gold rings. It has the exact same scratches as the police officers from my dream.