My Grandfather fixes clocks. He used to do it for a living, but now I think he just does it for fun. He says it keeps his hands busy and his mind alert now that he’s so old. Which is ridiculous because I think he has a better memory than the rest of us. He always knows where I’ve put my house keys when I forget.
He’s been living with us for a while now. Not because he can’t manage on his own, just because he wanted to be around family more. It’s kinda nice actually, to have him there when I get home from school. Mum works late a lot.
Except one day he wasn’t there. I turned the corner on to my street and saw three police cars outside. One of them was parked half on the lawn. I knew my Grandfather would be upset about that, he kept it so meticulously and with such pride. I walked towards the door. It was open, but there was police tape across it.
“Excuse me, Miss,” an officer stepped forward, I didn’t even see where from. “You can’t come in here.”
“But…” I stared at the open door. The tape. “I live here.”
When I looked back, another officer stood beside the first. They exchanged a look. “This is your house?” one of them asked, to clarify. I nodded. “Alright, I need to step over here with me for a moment.”
“Why? What’s happened?” I asked. The house was crawling with people, but felt empty. “Where’s my Grandfather?”
“Is your Grandfather Jeffrey Malcolm Peters?”
Why did they give him his full name? Was he hurt? No ambulance. Had he already gone to hospital? Was he dead?
The officers exchanged another look, trying to usher me towards one of the cars. “Come this way, Miss… please.”
My Grandfather fixes clocks. He used to do it for a living, but now he does it for fun. He can always find my keys when I lose them. He’s been living with us for a while. He’s always there when I come home from school.
He was also found guilty on sixteen counts of murder from 1973-1986.
Via Daily Prompt: Guilty