Something's changed. “Something’s changed,” Terza thought when she reached out her hand. On her toes she could just reach the door-knob and open the door. “Something’s changed,” Terza thought again and entered her parent’s house. The hand she saw first. It was an old hand, clenched and white, partly hidden under the silver, thin hair. The head was strangely cracked and a little pool of blood was next to it. One of the legs was bent and lay half under the other. When mother came home she found her daughter Terza and her mother in the hall. Terza had pulled the old woman from the stairs and now she sat next to her and hold her hand. Very soft she was singing a song, with her high, girlish voice. Terza’s mother gave a loud, high-sounding cry and ran away. A few minutes later she returned dragging her father by the arm behind her like a child. “Look at this! Oh holy cow!” Terza’s mother wailed and bursted into tears, “Holy cow! Mother! Mother is dead!” “I see,” grandfather said slowly, looking to his wife who’s laying on the ground. “Oh Terza, why haven’t you warn us?” mother shouted, “We could have saved her perhaps! You’ve found her like this, haven’t you? Why didn’t you scream? Why didn’t you warn us? Now we are too late to save her! Now she died! Oh holy cow!” Still sobbing mother raised her hand and hit Terza. The little girl didn’t move. “Come on,” Terza’s mother said to her father, “We are going to warn our friends and the town-crier! Oh holy cow, holy cow!” But Terza’s grandfather preferred staying with Terza and his wife. And while Terza’s mother ran away, he kneeled next to the body. “You did the best thing, my little girl,” he said. “She wasn’t worth screaming,” Terza answered. “Why should I’ve screamed? You scream if you see horrible monsters or creeps, not if you see your granny. I loved her! Screaming was the most disrespectful thing I could do.” “Your mother is blind,” grandfather said. “But, tell me, I heard you singing. What song was it?” When Spring Comes, Terza answered. “Granny learned it me when I was young.” “A very good choice,” grandfather said approving. “The best thing you could do.” And sitting there next to the dead old woman they talked about how much they’d loved her and how they would miss her. by Samara Jalaya.