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Heart Attack

by Stephen

I'd never been to a funeral before. To be honest, I was dreading this one. Til this point in my short seven year old life the only dead bodies that I'd seen were in movies and video games. I'm pretty sure Pop Pop's body wouldn't be like one of those though, would it?

I still don't understand what happened to my Pop Pop. Why would his heart attack? Was it mad at Pop Pop? Zombie attack, vampire attack these things I can understand. Zombies are hungry for brains and vampires are thirsty for blood but what makes hearts attack? This is a new one for me and I'm still puzzled. In the Walking Dead, Darryl kills zombies with a crossbow and I don't have one of those. My vast experience with vampire movies probably isn't useful either because I'm dealing with a killer  heart. I've got my trusty pocketknife that Pop Pop gave me with me though and if that damn heart attacks again I'll be ready.

Mom and Dad don't seem worried, sad, but not worried. That's ok, it's all on me to protect us from that killer heart. Sometimes it's on us kids to protect our parents. Mom and Dad do their parts so me, I'll stop that damn killer heart.

As I walk up to the coffin I'm sweating and I start to shake but I've got to do this. I slip my hand into the pocket of my suit pants and make sure my knife is there. Only five more steps. I can't breathe. One, Two, Three, Four, I force my foot forward for one more step, Five. I stare down at Pop Pop gripping the knife in my sweaty hand and then, nothing, nothing at all.

It's just my Pop Pop, my Pop Pop who carried me on his shoulders, who taught me how to throw a ball, who loved me very much. Then the  tears begin to fall. The heart doesn't attack but the tears begin to fall.