I always thought it would be cancer, or maybe it would be
cardiac arrest. It turns out, however, that my battery is running out. Yes, you
heard it right, my battery. I wanted to die like the rest, human like the rest.
My brother told me yesterday that I was not human. I have a
running expectancy of 40 years as well. Since I am 35 years old, that makes my
day of death in five years, respectively. And yes, I laughed pretty hard when
he told me-my brother has always been one for dry humor. I saw this as one of
his silly little stories, set amongst a satirical background of other
ridiculous things. I laughed with him and punched him on the arm, and
everything seemed like a usual summer day. Then my brother took my wrist in his
hand and pressed down.
I was frozen. His mouth moved, the words coming out slowly
and melodically-he talked to me but I could not understand what he was saying.
Then he pressed my wrist in the same spot and everything went back to normal.
“What did you do?” I questioned him, tilting my head.
My brother shrugged and spoke. “I told you, you are not
human. I just pressed pressed your slo-mo button-makes everything you see or
hear slow down dramatically. If I could keep that button pressed for the duration
of your life, you could burn up within 2-2 and a half years, maybe.”
My brother laughed at the fact that, if he was right, then
he thought it was hilarious to shorten my life even more. I thought about what
he said and it didn’t really make sense.
“Why would slowing me down make my life pass quicker…I mean…if
this notion were real?”
My brother leaned close and whispered. “You see, when I
press your slow-mo button, it presses your circuits together and they tend to
overheat, like this.”
My brother reached out for my wrist again and I jerked back.
“No way! Stop that!”
The whole thing seemed amusing to him and he continued
through his laughter. “You see, if I were to press this button here..”
My brother reached out and pressed the top of my hand
gently. Everything surrounding me grew darker and my brother’s voice climbed
higher and became virtually inaudible. It was fast-his speech whipped by my
ears like squealing chipmunks. The leaves in the trees, the rustling paper
scurrying down the street-all these things whipped by at breakneck speed.
“See, now that would prolong your life for about, hmmm a
year or so. The thing is, those circuits could snap from stress as well. Damned
if you do and damned if you don’t, I say.
I stood and stared at him for quite some time, trying to put
it all together. The fact of the matter was that I knew something really
strange was going on, but I wasn’t quite convinced that I wasn’t human.
“What are those things you put in my hand?” I held up my
hand and examined the surface of my skin. I wanted to find the telltale signs
of how those blasted devices had been inserted, apparently in my sleep and at
the evil hand of my brother.
My brother laughed again and told the story.
“Mom and dad couldn’t have any more children after I was
born. They always wanted a girl and so they just kept talking about it around
the “wrong” crowds of people. There was this guy, this strange dude that
offered my parents a way to have another child. This guy, he had
a very talented gift, especially in those times. So, you know the deal, couple
pays a hefty price, man makes a way and everyone is happy.”
I heard the story-don’t really know or care too much about how
this made my parents happy. Don’t’ understand what I am. I couldn’t be a
cyborg, because I was created small and I grew. I just know that, according to
him, I am on borrowed time. He showed me how to pause myself, to gain a few
hours here and there, and how to watch scenes from my very detailed memory
bank. My brother pressed the nape of my
neck and showed me images from my own mind-my smiling parents, my childhood
pets and some face that I didn’t recognize. When I described the face to my
brother, he smiled.
“Yes, that would be Frank, your creator.”
I have 5 years left, respectively. I guess I should do
something amazing, something that will leave a legacy for those who cared about
me as a human being. I guess I should do something out of the ordinary. I can
go to Disney World or I could climb the Eiffel Tower. Maybe I could stand on
the beach and watch the waves crash against the shore, far away from here…on
some exotic island. I guess I could do that.
But I don’t want to do that.I think I will try to be as
human as I can and lonely. I want to feel the pangs of dying in a normal
setting, an unfortunately lonely place, far from the make believe happiness of
denial. When the time comes, I shall die peacefully at home, and I will tell
them that I have cancer.
I will die as the rest of you, wonderfully full of regrets…human
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