CUMMINGS, ELLIS AMBER.

Who am I? That's a funny thing to ask someone with dementia. See, some days I know whats wrong with me but most days I don't. As time goes on it seems more and more days I won't remember, in fact it's rare I remember anything that recent at all, but today is one of those very rare days.

My name is Ellis Amber Cummings. I was born Ellis Amber Franklin and I had two wonderful parents. My father worked on the railroads and my mother had four wonderful children (me especially - of course). I'm the only one left but many days I will still ask about them as if they are in the very next room. Or should be. If I remember them... it's the remembering thing that's quite the problem you see.

I loved horses, I think, no... yes. I loved horses. I used to ride them on our fathers farm and I remember being quite an accomplished rider. I was always spirited I suppose. Spirited and opinionated and intelligent and for many gentleman that could be quite confronting. I wasn't a lady you trifled with and I'm proud of that.

I hold my beliefs high as well. I was raised to honour and respect Gods word and wisdom and I will until the day I do - no matter how mad I get. Women had their place and men had theirs and above all of us God has his and bless the merciful lord he's been patient with me over the years.

These days confuse me. The world in the all the way it's changed confuses me and some days, most days, I suppose I don't even know what date or year it is, or who the girl who looks after me is. My grand-daughter. The days I remember her though.. I do love her dearly. Taking care of her senile grandmother is something her mother should be doing - not her.

I think I already told you about my parents did I? ah, never get old. The mind turns on you when you need it most. Getting old holds no pleasures no matter what any other old bugger might tell you. Give me a 20 year old body again and I’d show you what living was about.

My mother was Amber Rose Franklin and my father George Martin Franklin, he was a railroad worker and we lived in a small little cottage near Malvern Ranch where they had horses they kindly let us kids ride on when we was allowed.

I was the youngest. I had an older sister of four years named Bethany and two twin brothers Jefferson and Rodney who were of seven years older than me. Being the youngest I was as spoilt as a working class family child could be. The family of Malvern Ranch had them a nice son five years older than myself and while we were young we were friends. Friends turned into lovers and lovers turned into husband and wife. I won’t bore you all with long unnecessary details. You aren’t here for a love story.

My husband Frederick wasn’t like most men I knew. He allowed me to finish college, or more did so rather than my wrath be brought down on the man I loved, and I eventually became a surgeon, earning bread alongside my husband rather than be just any old housewife with a white picket fence. Oh, I wanted so many things. Career and children? I was torn but.. deep down I knew what I wanted.

In my head I was going to have three children, healthy and strong. We moved us to a larger farm in Oakland County, Michigan. Years passed and no children came. Then one winter morning I threw up. Not lady-like but brutally, let’s nut fussy it up and tie it with a neat little bow. My little girl was a hard and long pregnancy and she was born in the warmer weather. A long labor was had and when she finally came out it was the best day of my life. Not just because my daughter was born but, thank god, my body was my own again. 9 months of getting your body hi-jacked and feeling sick all the time – there ought to be some kind of rent payment. Though – a smile on my little girls face was all the payment I needed.

She was a good little baby, who then turned into an opinionated stubborn little girl we called little storm (she didn’t get that from me – obviously). She then turned into a teenager that as beautiful as she could be could also be stressful enough to give you grey hairs with the meltdowns and teenage moments we encountered. This – I blame on my husband again. Wherever he is. Oh wait.. yes.

Now I remember. He was the first to pass. Heart attack they said and our little teenager was now a grown woman of 24. She married in that year – three months after my late husband passed away. I still had Mixie though, our darling cat. She was pregnant that year as well. I didn’t like the man of hers she married. There was something about him that smelled funny and mothers’ senses never lie. The good lord gave me the sense to know when someone isn’t good enough for my little girl.

While she contended herself with a new child as well as her much taller child she’d married regardless of my concern I kept working until things started happening. We’ll get to that though. First let’s finish the tale of my little angel.

She and her two babies moved to Charleston in Oregon and I eventually moved to Newport. During a tragic accident my little angel was lost but her little angel survived. My granddaughter Kaiden. I offered to take care of her but her father would have none of it and I feared for her safety. I might be getting older but I was not stupid and I knew something was wrong. Then when she was 15 Kaiden ran from her father and by the time she was 16 I had legally adopted her.

Small little things. I would forget where I put the soap. Or perhaps I’d look and notice time had passed by and I couldn’t quite remember what I was supposed to be doing. Then it all became worse. Some days are blurry. Time just passes and then I have days like these. But I know most days I don’t really know who Kaiden is, or I’ll wake up and think it’s ten years earlier until I know eventually every year gone past will be lost permanently.

I know this because I see the look in her eyes when I do know her and I know time is running out. How do you apologize to the last person left in your family when you can’t even recognize them anymore?

The lights had finally been turned on tonight and after checking there was no alcohol hidden anywhere he'd left his father to sorting out the photos of the family slowly as he always did, especially of his mother. That was always the most depressing part, watching his Giorgio carefully and lovingly position each photo like he desperately wanted her to leap out of it. As much as Joshua did want that too he knew it wasn't going to happen and wallowing in self-pity was never going to fix things. She was gone and that man was the only person he had left of his family. It was dangerous walking outside, granted, at night and in midnight but he just wasn't going to watch that again. Not tonight.

taking a flashlight and a water bottle to go for a run he started getting into the motion, sticking to the paths because the last thing Josh wanted was a broken leg. Plus, for some reason, he'd always felt good in the moonlight. A little re-vitalised. Running through the forest now it became a lot darker and he had started to slow down, considering maybe turning around and going home. Maybe his father was done drowning in his own grief and he could get some study in before bed.

That was when he saw the lone figure of another teenager in the park, sucked in a breath, and hoped it wasn't a vampire. Granted if it was a human then the 16 or 17? year old kid was in danger too and he'd be a horrible person if he pretended he didn't see the guy. Hoping he was doing the right thing he called out, his sicillian accent still very evident after having spent 8 years in america. "Hello? you ok? it's not safe in the woods alone." Like he could talk.. but it wasn't like anyone would really miss him besides one if he did go. His italian family barely knew him anymore and he lived too far away and had too little to visit them in over six years. Maybe this kid had loving parents and a lot of friends.

Tea`; +10; +10; Caleb James Jackson