My Grandmother Never Left

My grandmother died in our house when I was seven. Three days after her funeral,

I woke up to her standing at my bedroom door. She looked exactly the same,

except her eyes were completely black. She smiled and whispered that she never left.

Every night for two years, she'd appear closer to my bed. First the doorway.

Then the middle of the room. Then the foot of my bed. Last night,

I felt breath on my face and opened my eyes. She was inches away, her black eyes staring

into mine. She reached out and touched my cheek. Her hand was ice cold.

Then she vanished. This morning, I looked in the mirror. My left eye is turning