were both very upset, but there was nothing we could do. We had to pack our cases and belongings and go and live with our grandma. Our grandad had died, 7 years ago and 3 months. Our grandma had moved into this giant house, right out in the countryside, with no shops or neibours nearby. It was such a long journiy to get there until we arrived. We brought our cases in and grandma opened the door.
Grandma wasn't the most freindliest women in the world, but she did show us to our rooms. They were quite big, but there wasn't much in them. My room had only a bed, a desk and a chair, mirror on the wall, a wardrobe, and a window with curtains slightly ripped. But i didn't care, i was just happy that we were living with someone who would look after us.
Later that evening, after dinner, we came down the creaky stairs. Grandma was sitting in her rocking chair, doing her usual knitting. She had always enjoyed doing her knitting, and had knitted little mittens and scarfs for us when we were babies. They were very itchy but we loved them.
We asked if we could go to the park, so we did. We remembered this place off by heart. We soon reached the park. There were no swings. Or slides. Or see-saws. There
was nothing. Something had taken it's place. It was a graveyard. At first, i thought i was dreaming, but i wasn't. We looked round at all the gravestones, until we reached one. We read who it was: it was grandma.
My brother quickly ran back, to the house. He checked in the lounge. The rocking chair was still there, gently rocking, the knitting stuff was still there, but grandma was gone.
I waited a few more minutes, but my brother never returned.
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