1.

“Grandpa Mille.” Argen shouted desperately as she came through the door. The hospital had called her not long ago saying that Millevern Greane had been admitted and would like for her to come over. Without asking for specifics, she had dropped whatever it was she was busy with, picked her keys and rushed to the hospital, as fast as she could.

Please. Please God. Let nothing happen to him. Let him be safe. She prayed quietly, as tears streamed uncontrollably from her eyes, all the way.

Before her, Millevern lay on the bed. His wife, Doore, sat beside him. He was completely unharmed. In fact, he was fine. Relief washed through her causing to nearly collapse at the door. She recovered quickly, but now she was a little annoyed.

“Grandpa, what happened to you?” she said with a dramatic sarcasm as she threw herself upon him sending the air out of him with a loud “oof”. Doore laughed quietly.

“Child, please, be gentle with this old man. The doctors said it was nothing but they looked quite grim. I fear that they may have bad news.”

“It is fine, grandpa. It is very fine if you die. Please do leave me a lump sum of money for my needs. I promise I shall arrange for you a worthy burial.”

“What?!” Millevern was shocked. “You would be happy with news of my death?” he threw aside the covers and sat up, feigning offense. “Is that it? Do you wish for my death , Argen?”

“Oh no! Dear me no!” she spoke exaggeratedly now. “However, what am I to think, if you, a healthy, handsome and young man such as yourself admitted yourself into the hospital without reason. It could be that you are expecting your death.” She sat herself on the bed beside him. “Don’t you think so too, grandma?”

“Perhaps he simply wanted your attention.” Doore replied, laughing.

“Just a call. I am simply a call away. I was really frightened you know. I was scared. If something had really happened...” she let out a little sigh. Argen was a little sad now. It lasted for just a brief moment. “Anyway, please spare me the scare next time. However, I am indeed serious about ou leaving me a lump sum, because you know I do need the money right?”

“Doore, can you see this? She is praying for me to die so she can have my money. Is this not unfair. I even took great care of her and this is all I get. It is an injustice. A great injustice” Millevern faked a cry planting his face in his palms.

“It is tragic. Tragic indeed, that such a thing has happened, no?” Doore replied with great amusement.

“Tragic or not. It is necessary to have money.” Argen said.

“Argen where have I gone wrong, you were never a woman who cared about money so-”

“Of course she is such a woman grandfather” a spiteful voice interrupted Millevern’s dramatic lament. “She has always been such a woman. Only that you fail to see it.” This voice belonged to their only acknowledged grandchild.

“Casper, at least out of respect to both your grandfather and I, do not speak in such a manner about Argen.” Doore said. All traces of humour gone from her face.

Argen stood up, preparing to leave. Leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his chest was Casper. He was still tall and still beautiful. The man she could have done whatever it was he asked, no matter how unreasonable. The man she loved so much, it almost drove her insane. But now she hated him and it drove her equally insane.

“What’s the problem with stating obvious facts?” Casper replied as he unfolded his arms and walked into the room.

“Casper! The only problem here-” Millevern started but was cut short by Argen.

“I guess since there was no issue I will return to the bar.”

“Why are you in a hurry? Why don’t you stay behind and see how much you can squeeze out of my grandparents? Or could it be that there’s a man waiting for you to-”

“Casper!!!” this time, Doore stood angrily. Both she and Millevern were fuming now. “Dispense with your childishness immediately!”

Casper went quiet and Argen felt without giving him as much as a glance. There was no need to reply him. She was used to it.

Argen sat in her car, fighting back tears. Her throat burned and her eyes hurt. “It’s okay. It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt me at all. I’m used to it.” She comforted herself. But it did hurt. It hurt a lot and it hurt deeply. And she definitely wasn’t used to it.

She started her car and the radio came on.

Baby, you can hurt me...

You can rip out my heart and tear it into. pieces...

But just you know this pathetic girl will. always love you...

“God... I really hate this song” she said as she turned off the radio and drove back to her bar.

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