DeathBlooms
This is a story that I haven't shared but to a handful of individuals in my life. Mostly because I'm not sure how many people would believe me. 

When I was about 2 and a half years old, my mother and I had lived next door to my great-grandmother in a trailer park. My great-aunt and her husband had gotten a  trailer for her for 2 reasons:
1.) Her house had been condemned.
2.) They could not be bothered with her for whatever reason. 

My great-grandmother was 89 at the time and we had to check on her at least twice a day. We would take her wherever she needed to go whenever as soon as we could. My mother also acted as a referee at times because my grandmother and great-grandmother had a burning passion for cussing each other out on an almost daily basis. Honestly, I'm shocked my mother is as sane as she is now after all of that mess, but I digress. 

One day, my mother has picked me up and carried me next door so she could help my great-grandmother do whatever she needed to. Even at the age of two, I could feel that something was off. I believe that my mother could, too. 

Whenever we got there, we went inside and were greeted with what at first, looked like my great-grandmother was sleeping. My mother tried to wake her. 

"Granny!" 

There was no reply. 

"Granny!" 

There was still no reply. 

My mother tried with her for a few minutes before coming to terms with the fact she was dead. She called 911. Then she called my great-aunt and her husband. The paramedics came, but it was already too late. Mother and I headed into the hospital and we were sat in a room with her corpse with a sheet over it. 

My mother placed me on the ground and she started talking to my great-grandmother. I was walking around and suddenly, I saw my great-grandmother seeming rise from the bedsheets. However, she wasn't completely solid and the sheets were untouched. she had just come up through them. She was replying to my mother and was telling her that everything was going to be okay and that she loved her. 

A couple of days later, we were at her funeral. I saw her there. She was looking as she had always in a plain grandmother dress and moccasins. She was looking at her own body in that casket. It was like she was also trying to process the fact that she was dead as the rest of us were. 

After that, I don't believe that I ever saw her again.  
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