THIS TOWN HAS SECRETS

Chapter 1: Let Me Tell You A Story

My name is Zaid Morgan. Let me tell you a story. A story about love, deception, heartbreak, survival and everything in between. 

I moved to William, a small town in Maine, last summer to take care of my sick grandmother. She'd been sick for a while. Dementia hit her hard a few years back. She was never the same. My mom wasn't able to fly up to Maine for the summer due to her job not allowing her. My mom was a doctor and doctors are the busiest people I know. So, she asked if I wanted to move to Maine for the summer to take care of her mother, my grandmother. I agreed. It's not like I had plans for the summer anyway since my girlfriend fell in love with someone and broke up with me. I had absolutely nothing to do that summer. I hadn't seen my grandmother in over 5 years. I didn't know how I would react when I saw her in person.. or, in all fairness, how she would react. I thought to myself what does a 16 year old kid have in common with an 80 year old woman. What would we even talk about? I was already bad at starting conversations, but starting a conversation and keeping it interesting with an 80 year old would probably be more of a challenge. So, there I was at the airport waving goodbye to my mom. Airplane ticket in hand. Backpack on. I packed the summer essentials. Phone, comic books, laptop and art supplies since I love to paint. The plane ride was a bumpy one, but I slept through most of it, so it was alright.

William, Maine doesn't have an airport since it's a very small town, so the airplane landed in Stockton, the next town over. My mom told me that my grandmother wouldn't be able to meet me at the airport, so I called an Uber to give me a ride to her house. It was late when I arrived at my grandmother's house. 10:48 PM. I didn't know if she would still be awake or not until I saw someone peeking out the window from upstairs, but the person didn't look female. I shrugged it off, paid the Uber driver and proceeded to knock on the front door, but there was a sticky note posted on the front door. It read "Zaid, you're family. You don't have to knock. Let yourself in." I grabbed the sticky note and put it in my pocket as I let myself in. Immediately after taking two steps into her house, a strong odor hit me. I'd never smelled anything like that before. It was an odor like never before. I stepped back outside to take a deep breath. I needed fresh air.

"Zaid, is that you?" A deep male voice asked. I nervously replied, "Yeah." I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. I stepped back inside the house. The smell wasn't going away. A man greeted me at the front door. He looked to be in his late 70's with dark grey hair, blue eyes and a deep voice. He presented himself to me. He told me his name was Boris. He also told me that he'd been the one taking care of my grandmother for many years. Something I didn't know. He noticed I was covering my nose and smirked.

"You smell that too, huh?" he asked. I nodded and asked if he knew what the smell was. He told me the sewer pipes in my grandmother's bathroom burst the previous day. He tried airing the house out for my arrival, but he had no luck. I asked if I could see my grandmother, but he told me that she had already taken her medication. so it'd be best if I visited with her in the morning. I agreed. Boris showed me to my bedroom. The bedroom I'd be staying in for the summer. He thanked me for taking care of my grandmother. I wasn't sure if Boris was her caretaker or her boyfriend. I didn't want to ask, but he seemed like a cool guy. I thanked him for showing me to my bedroom and closed the door. I stood at the door and I could hear his footsteps begin to fade away as he left the house. I prayed my grandmother didn't wake up during the night because I wouldn't know what to do or say, but Boris promised he'd show me the ropes the next morning. I unpacked, turned the lights out and tried to get some sleep.

The next morning, I woke up with a giant headache. I don't know whether it was the flight or the odor or possibly both. I heard movement downstairs. Thinking it was Boris, I opened my bedroom door and lightly yelled. "I'll be down in a few minutes, Boris." but there was no reply. He was probably hard of hearing since he was an old man. That's what I told myself. I brushed my teeth, got dressed and hurried downstairs to greet Boris, but only it wasn't Boris. It was my grandmother, Augusta. She was standing over a spilled broken glass of milk. I told her to watch her step as I quickly got a towel and cleaned the glass and milk. I didn't know Boris' phone number so I couldn't call him. I noticed one of her arms was tucked behind her back. I asked her if everything was okay, but she just stared at me with a blank stare. The mood turned awkward. You could cut the silence with a knife. I asked if everything was okay once more and this time I got a response. Her arm began to move forward only to reveal she was holding a kitchen knife. She pointed the knife in my direction. I couldn't believe what was happening. My own grandmother was holding a rather sharp kitchen knife in my direction. She began walking toward me as I began walking away. She kept coming toward me and I kept walking back. I asked if she knew who I was and she didn't reply. My nerves were sky high. I could feel my heart banging out of my chest. I heard a car door shut outside. She looked confused, to say the least. I feared she didn't recognize who I was. She opened her mouth to utter something, but before she could, Boris walked in.