Dead at ∞

Chapter II already

I woke up in a sweat. Nothing serious, this happens most days now. Especially since I feel hungover. I'm not, as that night is just a memory now. A two hundred year old memory. You see, when I said 'make me immortal,' I definitely wasn't being serious. And I didn't know my friend was a wizard. I don't think my friend knew it himself either, he was likely sozzled out of his mind. So when I found out I actually was immortal, you can imagine my reaction.

There's a difference between finding something out and realising something.

I found out I was immortal when a burglar shot me four times in the chest and neck, and I survived, almost unscathed. But today the realisation hit me.

Have you ever just been chilling, and then suddenly you notice, 'damn, I'm really in this bitch. I'm alive. I should be out, enjoying myself, and I'm not?' It's a bit like that, except more of the opposite.

A reaction like a mix of 'I'm immortal, nothing I do will matter, as it's always possible to do again' and 'I'm immortal, I'll do everything!'

Life is pretty much the same as it was two hundred years ago. No modern tech has been developed. Self driving cars have been improved, and healthcare is better. But the things you'd expect most aren't really that real. Flying cars do exist, and aren't too bad, it's just the fact that it's way easier to use a plane or a helicopter. And even if it wasn't, what would we do with the roads?

Because of this, you'd think it would be harder to blend in, as a mortal. Nope, apparently nobody really cares. When they get old and frail, they don't care as much as anyone else. You always see elderly people in the films sat on their porch, knitting in a rocking chair, all peaceful. It may seem that way, but in reality, they're so scared of dying, and of the unknown, that they don't care about anything else. I used to feel like that. Then I started to feel worried that if anyone found out, my eternal life would be over. Now I'm chill with it. What's the worst that could happen?

Now, my daily routine goes as such:

Wake up, go to the toilet, get out of bed, change the bedsheets, and go down stairs. I'll do the regular human stuff, like eat breakfast, and then feel both drained of energy, and pumped at the same time. I feel like a god. My friend, from way back, who gave me this- curse? Blessing? Whatever. My friend died long ago. Like a regular person. We both woke up the next morning, with nothing out of the ordinary. I guess he didn't realise his power, or couldn't use it, as after 63 something years, he died. By that time, I knew something was up. As my friend got shallow and weak, retired and seemingly laid back, I still was smooth as a baby. We'd stopped hanging out as often as we did as time went on. We'd still talk, and were good friends, but we never went out as often.

So he never really knew about me, which was hard to hide. We were about the same age, with me being younger by a year. He, again, looked like he could crumble by a couple of stones, or a really good scare. I, however, still looked fresh as a daisy.