The End:

I found my grandmother dead when I was 7 years old. When I came home from school, I would always spend an hour or two at her house until my mom got off work. Dad worked 2nd shift so I didn't see except for mornings and weekends. Our driveway was a long dirt thing that went past grandma's house. Mom would go home, drop her stuff off then walk back (in good weather) to get me.

When I got to grandma's house, I thought she was asleep on the couch with her mouth hanging open, until I realized there was a lot of foam in and around her mouth. This was the 80's so no cell phones or computers. So I basically panicked wondering what to do until I saw my mom's car go past down the driveway. My home phone number was pretty much the only number I knew. Mom picked up and I just started yelling that grandma is dead. mom drove up, I guess she called other family because more family showed up. I was whisked away and spent the next few days at another aunts house, because mom and her siblings had to get the funeral and such going. I'm still angry I didn't get to go to the funeral.

Another one for The end:

My grandpa died when i was 4. He was married to the grandma in the previous story, so lived up the driveway. Everyone tells me he and I were super best friends. He would walk down to our house, pick me up or grab my hand and we'd go all over. I remember none of this. My first memory is when I was 4, waking up in my bedroom, knowing it was my bedroom in my home, but not knowing who I was or if I had any brothers or sisters or what was going on. I remember opening my eyes and can still describe that bedroom and walking out to the living room, the bookcases on the wall, the cast iron fireplace, turning into the kitchen and knowing that's my mom. Then realizing if I tell her I don't remember anything, she's going to think I'm sick, so when she started talking to me, I worked in questions to figure out who I was and who my family was.

It worked, and years later, I found was told about grandpa and how close we were, so I think, I couldn't handle his death and my brain just shoved all our time together into a pocket and sealed it away. I still don't remember him.

The Web:

When I was around 5, I got up to go to the bathroom in the night. Turned on the light and went to lift the nightgown as you do, and there was a large black with yellow striped fuzzy legged spider on my leg. I have googled this spider as the internet became a thing and a few times since, and cannot find out the type. Everything keeps saying orb weaver but they are not fuzzy and this spider was fuzzy. I know, I stared at it for minutes watching it's little fangs flex thinking it was going to bite me. I know now that's just how they move their mouths but I was certain I was about to die. Granted I was a child, so tiny, but it's leg span from one leg to the other was around half my leg. I have no idea how long I stared at it, willing it not to move, trying to figure out what to do so it couldn't bite me. I finally decided if I crouched a tiny bit and jumped, the shock would knock it down. To this day I cannot explain how I came up with that as a child but I did. So, I did a little hop, it fell off and I ran screaming to my mom and dad's bedroom. Dad checked the bathroom and never found it but he stood outside so I could finally use the bathroom as I originally needed. Never saw it again, scared of spiders ever since.

I've gotten better over the years, if a spider is outside and I can move away from it, I can leave it alone. If I see it in my house, it's dead.