There was a town on California’s West Coast named Newport. Usually you would think small towns are quiet and delightful like Gilmore Girls, but my town is the complete opposite. Some people call it heaven’s waiting room. I grew up in Newport until I was the age of eighteen, I was the kid who never really had friends. My grandma Nini, was the only person that I really trusted and I spent all my time at her beach house on the coast of California. The people that grow up there never seem to escape Newports “warmth”. It seems to me that I was the only one not hypnotized by the words of the mayor Mr. Harms. Everyone that lives in town until the age of 21 has to start taking a pill daily. The mayor says it’s to keep everyone “safe,” I never really thought anything of it. I managed to leave Newport by the age of eighteen with the excuse of a college scholarship and “my dream” of moving to Georgia, in reality I had to escape Newport, I would rather live homeless on the streets of New York then be back in Newport.
Admittedly my life in Georgia wasn’t perfect. I was in nursing school at Georgia State University. I was working two jobs but was barely paying rent. I got many signs posted on my front door saying I was past due on my rent and was in need of a loan. Still on those restless nights, one fact managed to relieve my low self esteem, “At least I’m not back home right now.”
One Tuesday night around 2:45 am, I got a call from my brother Nick. I haven’t spoken to my family in five years, so it was weird seeing his name on my phone. I always knew this call would be for one thing and one thing only money. My family was always asking for my money for reasons I really never understood which led me to decline every call until they didn’t bother anymore. But never in a million years did I think he would be asking me to return home. My brother barely got the words out of his mouth choking back the tears, “Nini’s dead,” he said.
My heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach, my grandma was always there for me, all those good f memories of laughing and baking all sorts of things back at her beach house. All those memories will start to fade away eventually, she was the only family member I really got along with. I could barely talk especially to Nick so in a low harsh voice I spit out, “Bye”
and quickly hung up. My head was spinning; I was in complete and utter shock.
Shortly after I hung up, I got a message from Nick stating the details of the funeral and when I should come home. I never thought I would see the sign of “Welcome to Newport” ever again but, in three days’ time, I would have to start my drive back home.
That night I started to pack for staying in Newport. The 18 years I lived in Newport I couldn’t recall anyone dying, so it was weird hearing of someone’s death. I’ve never been to a funeral now that I think about it, but I also never really got to know anyone super well enough to go to any funerals. The next two days were a blur; I could barely think on my own, let alone at work. The drive to California was about 36 hours, so I would need to take off a week or two from work. I woke up to my alarm around 1:30 am. I’ve been dreading this day for the past two days. I would start my drive to Newport at 2 am. I drove for a long 36 hours only stopping for gas and food.
As soon as I pulled up to my old house, I wanted to turn around and drive back home. But, as soon as I stepped out of the car door, the door to the house swung open, my mom ran out to hug me and my father was ready to pick up my bags. They never acted like this. Maybe they were grieving over Nini and trying to forget our past.
“Honey, I’m so glad your home,” my mom said as she brought me into a cold hug.
My father quickly followed her actions. “We’ve missed you so much, I wish you would visit Newport more often.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” I said sharply.
I looked at them, I didn’t see anything different from a wrinkle on their face to their height, not even the hair color changed. Nick suddenly walked out of the house. I expected to not recognize him but he looked oddly the same. He was a couple years older than me but yet still looked younger.
“Hey, Nick, how have you been?” I asked.
“I’ve been good, Stacy; thanks for asking, how have you been?”
“Hanging in there. Trying to make it through nursing school.”
“That’s good.” He wanted to end the conversation and I could tell.
The next day I woke up to an empty house. While pouring myself a bowl of cereal, I saw the case of daily pills sitting on the kitchen counter. Later that day I had nothing to do, I decided to drive to my grandmother’s beach house. As I was walking around, it felt like I was stepping back in time, all the memories of when I was a kid to when I left for college. As I was looking around in the living room, something caught my eye. I picked up an old news article that dated back to 1864. As I was reading through, certain words stood out to me, “Mr. Harm’s new discovery”, “daily pills”, “never aging.” I started to realize that these “daily pills” were the start of something that I could never event