Week 8 Journal
Aha! Every time I passed by her house, the old woman watched me. It was like walking past a painting. Never once did she take her eyes off of me, not even to blink. I tried to ask my parents about her, but they said they didn’t see any old woman, and that, as far as they knew, no one lived in that house. We moved to the neighborhood only a few weeks ago, and I was still getting used to it. I once lived in this town when I was younger, but we moved away about five years ago so that my mom could take care of my grandmother, who was sick with dementia, and later, cancer. My mom was her only kid. We lived with her up until very recently. My mom couldn’t stay there. She sold the house, and we packed up and left. My parents found a cheap house to move into. It needed a lot of work done on it. The windows had hairline cracks in them, the sinks were rusty, and the front door was falling off its hinges. We didn’t have the money to help fix it, though, as we once did. My grandma had taken that f...