Gerontophobia – Is the fear of growing old as well as the fear of anyone that is considered elderly. The third pill I took contained this phobia, and I am starting to feel a backlash from the two I have already taken.

You can call me crazy for taking the first two pills if you want, I don’t blame you. I find my actions a bit crazy as well. Hell, my cat has even started to look at me in a different way.

I decided to take the pill around 30 minutes after Max called me. I wanted to be finished with them as soon as possible. It’s odd, I don’t feel like the same person anymore. The only thing that is keeping me remotely sane is my memories. Well, except for one memory that keeps intruding my thoughts.

I always loved being around my grandfather. He lived in Spring Lake, North Carolina and when I was younger, I always felt bummed out that he didn’t live close to us. Though he didn’t have much money, he would always save up every little bit of extra money he had for when I came over for a yearly visit. My visit was only for 3 days during the summer, but most of the good memories I have in my childhood were from those mini vacations. I was 15, when I made my last visit to my grandfather’s house.

It started off normally, we went to the movie theater as soon as I arrived at his house, and he would let me choose the movie. Avatar was the movie I chose and grandpa kept talking through the entire movie. It annoyed me because he was just talking shit about how a man should not fall in love with gigantic blue women. After the movie, we got into his beat-up blue truck and went to the bowling alley. Around ten in the evening, we made our way back to his house. He fell asleep around midnight, and I grabbed a bottle of whiskey out of his cabinet and snuck out to a nearby park. It wasn’t the first time drinking, but it was the first time I ever stole something from my grandfather. I don’t really know why I did it, but honestly, I feel like I wanted to see what I could get away with.

You should have seen the look on my face when a cop shined her flashlight on me and asked me what I was doing. I couldn’t think of a clever lie to get out of it, so I just hung my head in shame and told her I snuck out of my grandfather’s house with a bottle of his whiskey. She got his phone number from me and waited with me until my grandfather came to the park to pick me up. The walk back to his house was the most awkward shit I have ever experienced. I knew my grandfather was pissed, but I also knew he would never be able to trust me again. He didn’t say a word to me when we got back into the house. He just went into his room and I went into the guest room.

While we were eating breakfast the next day, he told me he would have to tell my mother what happened. I tried begging him to let me off the hook just once, but he just looked at me with a straight face and said, “I really thought you were a good kid. You stole from me, and you drank underage. I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed I am. I can’t discipline you, but your mother sure as hell can.” I should have just accepted the fact that I did something wrong, but I was just filled with rage. I felt betrayed. As soon as I heard my grandfather pick up the phone, I rushed towards him to try to get the phone out of his hand. Before I could even reach him, he let out a gasp, grabbed his chest, and fell over. I watched him as he fell to the ground, and though I was still mad at him, I immediately called 911. He died on the way to the hospital. It was from a STEMI heart attack, and he barely stood a chance.

I always convinced myself that it was a complete coincidence that my grandfather happened to have a heart attack while I was running up to him, but the last couple of days have made me start to question that.

Anyways, I took the third pill at exactly 10:00. It probably wasn’t the best idea because I still felt the effect of the pill the day before.

10:20 – Why did I take the pill so soon. I should have waited a day before taking another one. The streets still scare me. Hell, even taking a shower still makes me nervous. Fuck it. I have a bottle of vodka with me, I’m going to keep chugging it until I can create some sort of confidence.

11:12 – I did it. I finally managed to run across the street and back into my house. I’m taking a bath now and I feel fairly comfortable, maybe I’m finally getting better at this.

11:28 – Geeze, I really look like I’ve gotten 5 years older. That fucking sucks. The last thing I want is to get older. It just means I’m dying quicker and that makes me really uncomfortable. Why do we have to get older? Why can’t we just fucking stay the same age and live forever? Fuck this. I’m definitely going to start taking care of myself better.

12:51 – I’m freaking the fuck out. Every time I see my reflection or look in a mirror, it looks like I’m getting older. Every goddamn time. I swear to god I am losing my mind. I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna fucking die. Please. Let me stay young.

14:12 – I managed to drive to the Walmart in the Madison area of Nashville. It’s only about a 3-minute drive for me, but it really did feel nice getting some fresh air finally. An old lady was struggling with a couple of bags. She asked me if I could help her with putting them in her trunk. Normally, I would help, but no. Fuck that. She is just going to contaminate me. She’s just going to make me older. I already have enough problems.

16:02 – I got back home with a shit ton of groceries. I saw a lot of old people there, and it took a lot of time for me to maneuver around them. I can’t risk touching them. I keep looking down at my hands, and I see a new wrinkle every time. The weird thing is, I keep thinking about the elderly lady, Martha, that lives two houses down. She was always a sweet lady. Whenever I saw her, she would always make it a point to bring me some sort of home-cooked meal. I used to look forward to it, but now, I really hope I never see her again.

17:12 – An ambulance raced past my house and parked in front of Martha’s house. Two paramedics rushed in with a gurney while a younger lady walked out into the street. Even from far away, I could tell that the lady was crying. The paramedics wheeled the gurney with Martha on it into the ambulance and drove away. The lady was still standing in front of the house. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just rushed out of my house and ran up to the lady. She was sitting in the driveway sobbing. I put a hand on her shoulder and asked if she was okay. With tears pouring down her face she looked up at me and said, “I have been taking care of Martha for the past 2 months. She always seemed happy, but I came into her house today and saw her lying face-down on the couch. An empty bottle of her high blood pressure medicine was in her hand. She had a pulse, but she was unconscious.” I tried asking her more questions, but she just shook her head before getting into her car and driving away.

18:48 – I looked in the mirror again and saw that I look to be around 50. My face is starting to look like it belongs to someone else. There is a deep scar that is not on my neck that ends on the right side of my chin. It scares the hell out of me to look at me in the mirror, but after several gulps of vodka, I am feeling a bit better. I keep staring at myself trying to find some sort of clue. For some reason, I started to think of my mother. Well, not really think, more like I had a feeling like something was wrong. I tried to dismiss it, but my mind immediately went to Martha. If I had acted sooner, I could have saved her life. Without another wasted second, I ran to my car and drove the one hour distance to my mother’s house.

21:08 – I’m sitting beside the hospital bed next to my mother. When I got to her house I saw that she was lying in the bathtub with deep cuts running down both her wrists. It made me go into a full-on panic when I touched her, but I ignored my feelings and pulled her out. I called 911 and waited for the paramedics to arrive. I couldn’t help it, my stomach was jumbled into knots and I threw up in the toilet. I felt like touching my mother was the death of me. I looked in the mirror in her restroom and saw that I looked older than my mother. Anyways, back to my mother. She will be fine, I managed to drag her out of the tub just in time. She lost a lot of blood, but it wasn’t deadly.

23:41 – I’m back home now. I couldn’t stand being close to my mother. It’s fucked up, I know, but I can’t help it. I feel nauseous being around her, and it makes me feel like I’m flirting with death. Max called me a couple minutes ago.

Max: ”How do you feel, big man? Saved mommy. You must feel like a goddamn hero. Haaaa. Remember, you’re 1 of 2 today. You still let poor old Martha die. Thank you. You are making my research a bit more interesting, however. Alright. I don’t have time to listen to your bitching, so I’m going to hang up. Halfway there. Don’t die on me!”

8:12 – Shit, when did I fall asleep? My mother called me. She cussed me out and told me I should have let her die. Oh well, that’s just something I’m going to let the therapists deal with. I haven’t checked my reflection today. I don’t think I will. I’ll just wait till I take the next pill. The bottle of vodka is empty. How the fuck did I manage to drive to my mother’s house?

9:48 – I accidentally looked at myself in the mirror. I’m looking young again, but I did notice something odd. Half of my hair is now gray. Looks like I’m going to have to get some hair dye soon.

As always, this is Hayong. I wish I was braver, but maybe I’ll get to that point soon. I’m going to go ahead and upload this before I take the fourth pill. Wish me luck, give me advice if you have any, and share some funny pictures if you want to raise my morale. Send me a pm if you happen to have any inside info on Max.

Again, Max, Fuck you.