It was around 5th grade when my parents decided to move into a house. Before that, I lived in an apartment that was one floor above my grandparent’s apartment room. Me and my siblings grew up with my grandparents and would always sleep over at their place, so basically they were like our second parents.

After hearing that my family was moving, I was happy since I had never lived in a two-story house. At the same time, I was unhappy because my grandparents were staying and I wanted them to move with me.

On the first day of settling in, it felt good and was happy that there were stairs. Night soon came and I remembered that my grandparents were not there and were living by themselves.

Just before sleeping, I went to my brother’s room and looked out the window since it had a view of my grandparent’s apartment building. I wondered if they were fine and thought about my memories living there and being so close to them.

During the first month, I cried  myself to sleep knowing that the past will not come back.

Although I often go to their place, I still wonder if they are fine at night or when I am not there.