Mortem Aeternam (The Eternal Death)

December 23rd 2016 - 09:05

My Last Days – By Evelyn Hope

'I don't want to die but I know I am going to... I want to live a long life... I want to have this chance of living.'

I uttered these words in court as my sight became blurred by the tears that were welled in my eyes. This sentence seemed to have made everyone in the courtroom uncomfortable. The Judge arched his bushy grey eyebrows and looked down at the case files, and then back up to me.

The court reporter stopped typing. A long-drawn-out silence gnawed at my insides, and that was the moment I realised everyone was fixated on me. Absorbed into the case of one girl wanting to do what everyone else does...live. These thoughts made me taste the bittersweet tears that trickled down my face to meet my lips.

The next five minutes was a blur that I couldn't comprehend. I didn't even hear the judge's verdict, but I knew that I had won. I knew I had won because I turned around and looked into Dad's eyes. He shook his head, shook it with such rage as I watched his blush scald through his cheeks. His fingers curled into a fist. I could see his nails digging into his palms.

He was the reason I was there. He was the reason as to why I stood in that room which was filled with nothing but sentiment and sorrow.

Apparently, I'm too young to make a legally recognised will, so I needed the permission of both Mum and Dad. I had to open legal proceedings through my solicitor. This was the only way my wishes could've been granted.

Mum supported me like she always has done. But Dad...Dad has always been opposed to the idea.

'You won't have anyone to turn to in 200 years. You'll be lonely, isolated in unfamiliar surroundings,' he keeps reiterating. Maybe he's right. Even if the future welcomes and makes room for me, what if I don't like it? Won't I eventually become bored of living? I've thought about every possible outcome and there's nothing that will make me change my mind.

I've been thinking about what death truly is. I've come to the conclusion that it's the opposite of life. When I picture death in my head, I think of emptiness, I think of it as being asleep without dreaming for eternity, although in this case eternity doesn't exist. Nothing does.

My crazy-eyed aunt Pricilla has started sending me bible verses again. She says they'll bring me hope and reassurance, when instead, they do just the opposite.

This time it's a story about Lazarus; a man who was apparently brought back to life after he was buried. I see why aunt Pricilla sent me this; she might not be as senseless as she looks. There are many parallels between me and Lazarus. He was sick, died and was brought back to life, and I will be too. However, it's not Jesus that's bringing me back, but instead, it is science.

This will be the last time I'll be writing in this book.

In two days I will die and be cryogenically frozen in the hope that I can be brought back to life at a later time. My body will be cooled to just above water's freezing point, and then my blood will be removed and replaced with some sort of organ preservation. Don't ask me what happens after that, because nobody knows... yet.

One day I will truly perish. My dreams will be forgotten and my horrors erased. But that is for another time.

As I write my last few words, I plead for you not to feel any sympathy for me. I beg you to not waste your tears... because I will come back.

Evelyn xx