Saturday Evening Outpost

NOT DEAD YET: PART III — Do Not Resuscitate?

Grammy lay in her bed motionless, the pink comforter tucked around her little body. Her thin, white hair was matted down and a large bruise spread from her head down her face. Her little hands, clasped tightly together with nails painted an almost defiant red, were covered in bruises. It looked as if she was barely breathing.