Butterflies only live for two weeks and the fruit fly lives for a day. I’ve never left the country. Snails can sleep for three years and shrimps keep their hearts in their heads. I don’t like my name. I detest my smile. And the footprints on the moon will live for a hundred million years. I’m afraid of bugs that move too quick to catch. The first person to win the Nobel prize twice was a woman named Marie Curie and my grandma, who is dying, shares a name with me. These things I know for sure, like her failing heart, and the lark sings in the morn, and Caracas is the capital of Venezuela, but I do not know what it means to mourn a grandmother who never was. My mother’s mother, but rather removed. Bruxism means I grind my teeth. And I visited my grandma in the hospital, saw the bruises on her hands, saw her shuffling gait, her unyielding ache, my mother’s face forced to face death’s reality. Hemophobia is the fear of blood. I am afraid to see my mother break on the funeral day sat with us in the back row, far away. Antarctica has a winter population of approximately two hundred. And I am torn to shreds at her misery. Nostradamus’ last words were “tomorrow i shall no longer be here.” But when I decided my grandma was dying, I truly felt nothing at all.