When my grandmother died it was a hard time for me. My parents died years ago in an auto accident and I have no siblings. I heard granddad saw grandmother die, but my memory might be a little off. Now I have no family. Some would say I should be happy as I have been left a sizable legacy, but I feel so empty.
It is confusing now. Grandmother died? Yes, I remember that. I remember going through her belongings after the funeral. Grandmother loved books as much as I do. I found a special book hidden among the piles of books, a Book of Spells.
Grandmother loved paranormal books; so do I. I could not resist. As I started reading the words got heavy. No? I mean, I got tired, or something like that. I can’t remember. I struggled to remember simple things like my name: Scott. Scott? Yes, my name is… I don’t remember.
I enjoy reading late into the evening. If only I could keep my eyes open a little while longer. The spells are so interesting. If only they were true, if only spells really worked that way. My eyes no longer focused. I fell asleep, book in hand, forgetting where I left the page.
The morning light wakened me. I stretched and reopened the book to find my place. I know who I am better than ever. I am Becca, rebuilding the family name from the ashes of death. It is such an exciting time. This book is so interesting. Grandmother really knew how to pick them.