Immortality is seen as something amazing, perfect...wanted. It is not. I am an immortal, the only one on Earth. Well not so much on Earth anymore, but what used to be Earth.
The world has been ravaged and destroyed. On the Tele came a broadcast for all over the world. The news? The world is ending by the sun imploding. All Hell broke loose...well at first. There was lots of looting, vandalism, raping and murdering. Nobody stole from stores for TVs or clothes. It was medicenes, hygiene products, foods. If you had something someone else needed? Either give it to them or get killed. Then, it was calm. It was so...silent and peaceful after all of this was over.
Telvisions were turned off. Nobody wanted to know the exact moment the sun would implode. We'd know when it was happening. People stayed home with their families. Everything was beautiful. Keep in mind I was already alive for two hundred and fifty years, stuck at the age of 21 forever. I was in my house with my wife, and I knew what was to come. We cuddled up in our bed with our curtians drawn. At first we could hear the distant sounds of glass breaking, fires roaring, people screaming. Then it was silence. I remember getting up, leaving the warmth of my wife. I stood by our window on the second floor, staring down. There was trash everywhere, dead bodies rotting in the gutter, dried blood crusting along the ground and walls of nearby buildings. I remember loving how peaceful it was at first but then I turned to my right...and threw up. There was a pile...of dead bodies. It was stacked high and without caution.
I saw some people I knew. Most I didn't. I had to brush my teeth and then got back in bed with my wife. She asked me what was wrong but all I could do was tell her not to look outside. She understood and she placed her arms around me, her tiny body trying to coddle my own. God I miss her.
As I write this down, I am left in a building. It was large, now it's run down and destroyed. I'm on the bottom floor, the only floor with all 4 walls semi intact and part of a ceiling. It's the best I can do for shelter without going into a cave. All the water is dried up and I'm thirsty but I can survive without it. All the animals and crops are gone. The dead bodies are nothing but ash now. The trees are little less than dust blown by the wind. A lot of the buildings I've found are almost completely flattened except this one thankfully.
My fingers shake as I use this pen I kept on me at all times, to write down my story on some paper I found in a hidden burrow. It once held stories from a young woman. Her traveling experiences really. I guess she didn't want these to get destroyed. I love how even in the worst times in human...Earth's history really, she kept her calm and humanity.
I moved to the back half of her notebook so I may write all this. I wander lost and alone. There are no more animals, stores, people...nothing. There's dust, ashes and left over metal scraps from cars and buildings. I walked for miles and miles. I don't have a sense of time anymore. It might have been days, weeks or even years and I wouldn't have known. I do need sleep but not often. And there is no more day and night. It's simply a permanent dawn time. Where it looks like a sun rise but it's odd. All that it is now is a soft glow of an orange hue around the horizon-no matter where I walk.
It's as if it's just in my reach but it slips out of my grasp. Oh fuck, my pen is running out of ink.
Before I finish writing this I have to tell you something; immortality is not a gift. It is not something I would wish upon anyone.
I've lived for hundreds of years and more so, and this is the worst.....
The end.
This is a story about what I think it would be like to be Immortal. I don't think it's all it's cracked up to be.
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