92. Awake

I blinked my eyes in a daze when my leg was again hit by a not-as-old hand.

When I turned my head, I saw my grandma had opened her eyes. 

"Hey, are you awake?" I kneeled at her side and took her hand. 

Her eyes were wide open, and she rolled them eerily around, taking in what was around her. She didn't seem really there; her hand in my own was bashing around, as if she were trying to wake up from sleep paralysis.

"Grandma." I patted her cheek again, and her eyes found mine. In contrast to the earlier milky, blurry ones, she now had clear gray pupils that stared at me before again looking around.

Is she dizzy? She doesn't seem to be able to focus. I pulled her up and let her rest against my chest, opening a water bottle and bringing it to her lips.

She raised her arms halfway, only for them to fall again.