I stared at 'It Was Beautiful' and realised that it described both the story, and the woman behind the title.
My grandmother was a wonderful woman, and I can't believe that she wasn't going to be able to watch me turn into a fantastic writer.
She gave me support when everybody else turned their backs. She inspired me to be the best that I could be. She was the reason that this all got to where it was, and now it's over. She's gone.
I'd lost all sense of direction without her. Without my grandmother... Where would I go?
Tears obscurring my vision, I wandered aimlessly through the fields surrounding my house. I realise that it's a hobby of mine - walking around for no reason when I was upset or angry. And negative moodswings, and I'd be on my way.
But I had a sense of direction now. I knew exactly where I was going.
As I entered the appropriate field, I gazed into the distance, at the small group of trees that I knew held the answers. The only way that I could feel safe now was to be with myself. Alone. In my Sanctuary.
I hadn't brought my journal - I was in no mood to write now.
I sat there under the trees, staring up at the sky, for several hours. Watching the sky change colours... Blue, orange, black. The sky was streaked with stars now, and it gave me hope. Grandmother was up there, and she was emploring me not to let this bother her.
It had been the heat of the summer that had done it.
It's been proven that extreme weather changes can kill the very old, and that's admittedly what she was. Very old. But inside, she was the same age as me.
She understood me, and I understood her. Two peas in a pod.
I was doing this all for her.