"Alex! Alex! Get your lazy butt out of bed! Alex, do you hear me!?"
Alex startled awake, his eyes blinking rapidly as he caught his bearings. He was in his grandfather's attic, sprawled out on a cot that was much too small for him. "I'm up, Gramps, I'm up. Jeez."
"Don't 'jeez' me, young man!" Gramps' voice replied from downstairs. "Get down here now! Your breakfast is getting colder by the second!"
"Breakfast?" Alex murmured, crawling out of bed and walking over to his mirror, which rested soundly on his dresser. He examined his appearance - he was a chubby, young man, with unruly brown hair and hazel eyes.
Alex was definitely not known for good looks; truly, he was not known for much of anything except being good-for-nothing, fat, and ugly. This didn't bother him in the slightest, however - it was just how things had been all his life. If anything, he saw it as a blessing in disguise, because he generally didn't like people, and he functioned better in solitude; thus, his unseemly appearance acted well as a deterrent.
"ALEEEEX!" His grandfather yelled.
Alex rolled his eyes as he grabbed a t-shirt and sweatpants from his closet and hastily put them on. "I'm coming, Gramps, alright!?"
"Pssh. You better be." Gramps grumbled in reply. "I put my heart and soul into this food, I'll be damned if I let you eat it cold."
Once dressed in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants, Alex slipped on a pair of black slides, started down the attic stairs and made his way to his grandfather's dining room. Gramps was already seated, and he looked up at Alex with a smile as he entered the room
"Alex, my dear grandson!" Gramps exclaimed with a mouthful of smoked sausage. "Hurry, sit down! Eat!"
Alex couldn't hold back the smirk that tugged at his lips as he took a seat across from his grandfather. He looked down at the plate of food that had been prepared for him, and marveled; there were four sunny-side up eggs, six strips of bacon, two slabs of buttered toast, and two chocolate chip and banana pancakes stacked neatly atop one another, maple syrup oozing off them.
"You're awesome, Gramps. Thank you, really," Alex said with a heartfelt smile, picking up a fork and digging into the pancakes.
Gramps, a frail man with bright blue eyes and whispy, grey hair, returned a warm smile. "Oh, this is nothing. Wait 'til you see what I have planned for supper."
Alex nodded as he chewed, his humble and joyful spirit lighting up the room. Gramps chowed down with the same happy look in his eyes. There was no more need for words; they ate in blissful silence until their plates were cleaned.
"Sooooo gooood!" The two of them exclaimed in unison, rubbing their stomachs. Alex let out a loud belch, and his grandfather scolded him.
Alex stood up, picked up the two empty plates from the table and set them neatly inside the kitchen's dishwasher, much to his grandfather's appreciation. Gramps stood up and adjusted his leather belt, and made sure his white and blue plaid shirt was tucked in properly to his blue jeans.
Alex, watching his grandfather doing this mundane thing, couldn't help but notice that the twinkle in his eyes never, ever left. The familiar spark in his grandfather's eyes that he had seen when he first came to live with him still burned brightly, even in his old and tender age.
"How are you so happy all the time, Gramps?" Alex asked, with a genuine curiosity much like a child's. "Most elderly people I've met are grumpy and bitter."
Gramps let out a hearty laugh, waving for Alex to follow him to the back door of the house. "Come, dear grandson. I'll let you in on a little secret."
Alex followed his grandfather out the back door, into the backyard. It was quite expansive, and beautiful; a 30 ft field of grass sprawled out before them, and a wall of evergreen trees stood tall around the wooden fence enclosing the yard. Gramps pointed down at the grass in front of them.
"Look at the grass, Alex," Gramps said softly.
Alex did as his grandfather said, his eyebrows furrowing. "Um... okay. What about it?"
Gramps chuckled. "What do you see?"
Alex raised an eyebrow, beginning to wonder if his grandfather was becoming senile. "I see grass, Gramps...?"
"So you see grass?" Gramps repeated, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "That's all you see? Oh, then I've failed you."
Alex looked back down at the grass again, this time squinting his eyes with effort. He shrugged, becoming slightly frustrated. "Yup. Just grass. That's literally what it is. What even is the point of this, Gramps?"
Gramps chuckled. "Let me tell you what I see..." Gramps gently bent down and reached his finger into the grass, then raised it back up again. To Alex's surprise, there was now a tiny ant on his grandfather's finger.
"I see..." Gramps pointed his finger up at the sky, letting the ant crawl up and around his nail. "A world beyond our control and understanding. I see a home for the tiny critters that we never stop to think about; a jungle of mysteries and wonders. Compared to the little creatures of the grass, we are giants - titans - gods. But look up, my dear boy. Look up at the trees."
Alex did as his grandfather said, turning his gaze up to the evergreens surrounding their house. Beyond them, the blue sky was littered with clouds and soaring birds, and the ever-beaming sun.
"The same way the grass is a jungle in the tiny world of this little ant, these trees are a jungle for us little humans..." Gramps said gently, his voice conveying a tone that Alex hadn't heard before, yet he knew it was making him feel peaceful.
"I'm not sure I understand, Gramps..." Alex admitted, sighing as he looked up at the trees.
Gramps chuckled. "Just as we are titans to the ants... There are beings greater than us, who serve as our titans, our gods."
Alex stood and thought for a moment, considering his grandfather's words. "So... we're like the ants..."
"Ah, see? You do understand." Gramps gave a warm smile. "Yes, we are just like the ants. So, to answer your question of how I stay so happy all the time... I never forget how small I really am. How small we all are, in the greater scheme of things. There is much more to this life, this world, than our simple comings and goings. Our greatest troubles are merely moments in time, miniscule fragments of pain in a larger universe full of life and amazing wonders. Never forget that, Alex. Never forget how big this world truly is. Do that, and you will soon understand how I keep my spirits high all the time."
Alex nodded slowly, pondering his grandfather's words. "You're so wise, Gramps... I'm not wise like that. I'm not... anything, really." A melancholy, shameful look crossed Alex's face. Gramps immediately punched his grandson in the gut with a wrinkly fist, which only caused Alex to take a step back in surprise.
"Hey, what was that for?" Alex asked, his expression one of confusion.
"You're my grandson, you dolt! Never say you're not anything, because that is simply not true. I love you just the way you are, no matter what you do or don't know. Besides, you're young, nobody expects you to be wise."
Alex couldn't help but smile. "You have a gnarly right hook, Gramps."
Gramps smirked. "They called me One Hit Harry back in my day. Oh, you should have seen me when I was in my prime!"
Alex laughed, following his grandfather back into their house.
"What are your plans for today, son?" Gramps asked, sitting down on a brown, leather recliner in the living room.
Alex scratched his head. "Haven't really made any plans for today, to be honest. I was thinking maybe I might go to the store for some snacks, but that's about it."
Gramps nodded his head, reaching in his wallet and holding out a few dollar bills to Alex. "Alright then. I won't get in your way. Be safe."
Alex took the money with a grin. "Thanks, Gramps. You're the best."
Gramps chuckled softly and grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table in the middle of the living room, and switched on the TV. Alex turned and walked out the front door, out into the warm light of the early morning sun. The sounds of bustling vehicles filled his ears, and the familiar scent of the city he was born and raised in filled his nostrils.
He continued walking up the sidewalk, towards the nearby convenience store he frequented. He paid no mind for crosswalks and things of the nature, much to many drivers' disdain. As he went, he hummed a simple tune that he'd remember his grandfather humming every now and then. When he reached the comvenience store, he encountered a scene that he didn't expect.
There was a homeless man standing outside the store who looked to be on drugs. He was stumbling around, pulling his hair and mumbling something about other dimensions. Alex tried to ignore the man, walking past him to get to the door, but he was stopped in his tracks.
"Ay, kid!" The homeless man stood in front of him, holding out his hand. "You got money?"
Alex shifted from foot to foot, his eyes struggling to maintain contact with the homeless man's. "No," he replied.
The homeless man smirked and spat on the ground. He shook his hand as if to say, 'Give it here.' "Yeah you do, stop lying. Give me the cash and I won't fucking stab you."
Alex took a step back in surprise, but he quickly replanted his feet. He decided that he wasn't gong to bow down to the intimidation of a homeless man.
"Get out of my way," Alex demanded, tryinf to step forward, but the man shifted and blocked his path.
"You don't wanna give it up? Alright, I fuckin' warned you." The man shrugged, then reached in his pocket and retrieved a pocket knife. He flicked it open and brandished it in front of Alex's face, snickering. "You wanna try that again, bud?"
Alex swallowed the lump in his throat. "Get out of my way," he repeated, slightly choking up.
Everything that happened next went by fast, like a blur. One moment, Alex was standing toe-to-toe with the man,and the next he was stumbling to the ground as the homeless man stabbed him repeatedly with the knife. Each stab sent jolts of agony through his body. It was so much pain that he wasn't able to let out a shout for help or even a scream of a pain. Rather, his mind and his body were in shock, and he became practically paralyzed and helpless as he lie on the ground, blood spilling from multiple stab wounds in his gut.
"Gramps... I..." Alex tried to muster up words, but to no avail. Blood poured from his mouth like a faucet, and his vision and hearing became disoriented. He could feel the homeless man's rough hands reaching into his pocket and stealing the money Gramps had gave him. It began to dawn on him what was happening.
'Am I... Dying?'
The sounds of the city and the screaming witnesses surrounding them became faint, and Alex's vision faded into black.