Tiffany

My life changed the day I fell in love with my grandmother. I was only seven, but already I had resigned myself to a barren life, a life...without a reason to live. My parents, you see, were ashamed of me. Oh, it wasn’t their fault. Even as a baby I was horrifyingly ugly. No one liked me. I grew accustomed to it. Ah, but then, one day, my grandma came to stay with us, and for a brief period of my life I began to have hope. One afternoon I was sent home early from school, and she was there, alone. She seemed glad to see me, sat me down, let me take sips of her bourbon. We began giggling, over nothing at all, and before I knew what was happening, she leaned over and touched my cheek, every so softly. “Leonard,” she whispered, “You are my special boy.” I WAS her special boy, damn it! From then on we would spend hours every day, laying together on her bed, not moving, not speaking, and I knew, I knew that she would be the only woman I would ever love, and the only one that would ever love me. Each day would bring a new vitality to my life, a new reason to live. I became braver, sometimes going out for recess at school, the taunts of other kids bouncing off me like the rocks they threw. I began to function like a normal boy, I began to have dreams for my future! Of course...of course it was all too good to be true. People like me aren’t supposed to be happy. One day I found my father in bed with Gramma. I was devastated. I ran to get my mother, who flew into a rage. She...she threw chairs, bookends, whatever she could grab, at them. She blinded my father. She killed my poor, sweet grandma. Jesus Christ, my life was over before it began. How can a boy—how can anyone, really—continue on after something like that? They can’t. I couldn’t. I quit school, spent my days alone in the pantry, crying, with only a pair of her old pantyhose to remind me of the time when...god, I can still smell them. I was never given the goddamn opportunity to live, you see? Not with a face like mine! And all I can think, every minute of every day, is that it would all be different if my grandma was still here. Oh Gramma! GRAMMA!!!