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    The bus stop at the gasoline station not too far off where my grandmother lives, as the driver pulled the lever to open the bus door the gasoline smell swarmed in, no doubt…it was strong; I twitched my nose to at least try to eliminate the smell.
    I yawned. Remembering how hard the flight was because a had a fear of heights. Every time we took of I wanted to scream till blood flowed freely through my mouth but I held my mouth shut. I didn’t want people to judge me too easily.
    The bus started to move again and I hesitate, pulling my head up so I could see were I was. The street on Glacier Avenue; where my grandma lives on. The bus stopped, the breaks made an ear screeching noise.
    The humidity was awful, eighty-nine percent of awful. In August, the sun set earlier. I started my journey two days ago. It took me four planes, one boat ride, and another hour on this bus. I slept in organ and Columbia. When I arrived at Mary’s house it was four o-clock, and already pitch black.
    I walked through the door letting myself in, “Grandma are you here?” I called out. I saw her walk down the stairs. Her gray hair was curly and short, her skin wrinkled and creased in many different areas of her arms and cheeks. Her lipstick was a reddish-brown that went perfect with her pink blouse. She was too skinny and I could see her ripped jeans from working out at the barn. Her hand was tightly clenched on the rail of the stairs.
    “Hello my darling Rose how was your trip?” she said with not a single gesture of my being is making her happy. She was very demanding and stern. I could see her frown lines from her cheeks to her lips.
    I would have to use proper sentences and talk when spoken to. My lips trembled from the silence I had kept for the last two days “The plane ride wasn’t so pleasant but the boat and bus ride gave me a good three hours to sleep.” I paused for a second, knowing she wanted to hear more, “The food on the plane was revolting, and the baby wouldn’t stop crying.” she was still looking at me with serious eyes so I guess I wasn’t done. “The people on the bus were nice and quite, but the bus itself looks like it should retire.” she gave me a hint of a smile. At least that was something. I thought to myself.
    “Well don’t people have the nerve to bring a baby on a plane, such nonsense.” I would just have to look into her eyes. That was the problem; her stare was too hard to take. “Rose look into my eyes when I am talking to you; its rood. It shows no proper respect.” she said grinding her teeth.
    “Sorry. I’m tired, it was a long trip.” I lied; I wasn’t tired at all…just irritated.
    “No excuses now my Rose.” She made one quick pause, “Oh did you grow. You look like your mother.” her voice cracked on the last word. I new she was in pain. After Grandpa died, and than her daughter. She was probably having a harder time with the whole situation than I was.
    I dropped my bags to the floor and gave her a big hug. I felt the water in my eyes give out. She may be stern, but I love her. She is the only person who understood my pain, and the only person who I can really trust. I could feel the wet tear as she cried, and I knew we were in this together.