I remember, he used to talk with this speech impediment. Most of his teeth were gone so he couldn't pronounce S or TH.

Another thing about him was his mental problems. He would vividly hallucinate the presence of a young boy. It started when my younger brother miscarried, he would sometimes see my mother and think she was carrying a baby.

As the years went by, he would see things that would never happen. His first words. The first time he walked. It got a little creepy sometimes but it was oddly charming. At the time, I was 10 and my brother would have been 5. He was never named so my grandpa would refer to him as "the boy" or "that boy".

One day my grandpa started acting a little weird. His sense of humor was gone and he only spoke when spoken to. His facial expression was blank, but his eyes looked horrified. If someone asked him why he was acting strange, he'd respond "da boi is actin' out." He explained to me, "iunno waddup with him"

The next day he wouldn't leave his room. He wasn't talking at all, even when someone started waving their hands in his face and yelling at him. He was clearly breathing and awake, his eyes fixated on the door of his bedroom.

Everyone else had grown tired of dealing with him but I had stayed. I had brought a cup of water and a bag of chips to sit with him until he went to bed.

I remember sitting there. I remember his expression as he sat there, nearly motionless. The way the room was lit. The trinkets on his desk seemed to be staring at me. I read the clock... out of the corner of my eye it was 11:59.

I turned to look at the clock right as it struck midnight. Suddenly, my grandfather's eyes widened. His door slowly creaked open.

For the first time in hours, I had to say something to him. "Grandpa, what's wrong?"

I will never forget his words.

"here come dat boi"

"o shit waddup"