Eternal Life

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room.

Barely half an hour had passed since she woke, and she was struggling to make meaning of anything. She couldn’t say why she thought she was in a man’s room. Nothing in the room indicated specifically that it was – the furniture was neutral in colour, and the doors were closed, there were no hints of clothing or footwear. But she knew, somehow, she just knew…

Abbie struggled to push herself up off the bed, but she could feel constraints on her ankles and wrists. The thick steel shackles that held her to the bed pushed dents into her skin as she twisted. Her mouth was dry, and her lips stuck together with dried saliva making her skin tear as she separated them.

A noise that sounded like a dog - shuffling and pausing. Abbie tried to call out, but her throat felt like it was being ripped from her neck.

“Help,” she whispered through parched lips. The shuffling continued, followed by a grunt, and the door handle started to move.

Abbie stared wide-eyed at the door as it moved an inch and then stopped. She braced herself for whatever or whoever was coming through the door. The stench hit her before she had a chance to focus her eyes. Rotten egg or seaweed? It made her gag, and she twisted on the bed, pulling against the restraints.

The door opened with a rush and a figure draped in burlap staggered into the room. Ripping the covering from his face, the man turned and slammed the door behind him and advanced towards the bed where he slumped to the ground.

Abbie couldn’t see him anymore and the restraints didn’t allow her to peer over the bed. He was making gasping noises that petered into a soft snoring sound. She could just see out the window if she turned her head as far to the right as was possible. Her neck protested and she felt a sharp pain shoot through her temple.

Fog? Or was it gas, drifted past the small round window and every now and then, a glimpse of dead tree branches and what looked like rags hanging from them. Nothing felt familiar and there was no point of reference for anything she was experiencing.

The smell made her think she might be in a swamp and the restraints - was she in prison? She knew her name was Abbie or was it? Self-doubt started to fill her now pounding head. If she didn’t know where she was, how could she possibly be so sure of who she was?

The window view offered no clues, and the man now sleeping beside her bed was completely useless. She felt hunger and thirst and the sudden urge to pee – oh crap - she let go of her bladder, felt the warmth travel under her body, and started dripping through the mattress onto the floor. By the smell coming from her body, she figured this wasn’t the first time she had peed on the bed.

“Hey!” she managed, “hey! can you help me?” The man stirred and took in another gulp of air before thumping his arm on the floor and encountering her bodily fluids. He went silent for a very long time until she became aware of his hand feeling its way along the bed frame.

Fingernails like claws with grime shoved under them. The man pulled himself up, and his bearded face rose to meet hers. She flinched and turned her face from his.

“You’re awake,” he rasped “Oh Jesus!” He ran his horny nails through his matted hair and winced as he pulled himself up to full height.

Abbie squinted as she watched his face while trying to determine if she should fear him. He looked defeated, old and desperate. She opened her mouth to speak and yanked at her restraint. “Can you let me go? Please,” she whispered.

“I can’t, don’t have the keys…” he trailed off and appeared to slump. She tried to talk, but her throat was too dry. “Water!” she croaked.

He shuffled to the door and bent over retrieving a dirty plastic bottle that looked like it contained tea. The way he stopped to look over at the window prompted a reaction in her. He looked familiar. He brought it over to the bed and unscrewed the lid. The bottle made a sound like a bottle of coke being opened. He tipped it and moved it towards her mouth.

“Mmmm..yuck, what is that?” Abbie spluttered as the liquid met her lips. She gulped some down and felt her throat contract.

“It’s water,” he said drawing in another deep breath. “Haven’t had any clean water since…” he trailed. He turned and shuffled back across the floor, his hand outstretched for the handle. He went to grab it and changed his mind, turning back to look at Abbie.

“I gotta go and finish the rounds,” he sighed “I’ve run out of that sleep potion, so you might have to stay awake this round.” He shrugged and turned back to the door.

“Wait!” Abbie screamed, “what the hell…where the hell…what is going on?”

“Not this again!” he groaned and turned back to face her. He shuffled to the end of her bed and picked up what looked like a medical chart. His dirty fingernails traced the writing until he reached the end.

“Show me that,” Abbie pleaded, twisting in her shackles “Please.”

The man held out the clipboard and moved closer to her head so she could see the writing. The header on the paper said, “Dystopia Inc,” and she could see her name, Abbie Ranger, and some dates. The first date was 28 June 2225, and the date at the bottom of the page was 16 Feb 2275.

“How old am I?” she felt panic rising as she fought to escape. “and who are you?”

Something was not right; she was beginning to remember. “My name is Abbie Ranger I was born on the 10th of July, 2200, and I am 25 years old, and I have a boyfriend, Spencer” She started trembling and thrashed on the bed. “I was promised eternal life. What is going on?”

Abbie collapsed onto the bed and lay motionless “bring me a mirror,” she screamed, “Bring me a mirror.” The man turned and shuffled to the door, ready to return to the gaseous outdoor world. He wrapped the burlap around his face, shot one last glance at her, and threw himself out the door.

Abbie's eyes filled with tears, she knew she was old. The hair she could see in her peripheral vision was grey and whispy, and when she ran her swollen tongue over her teeth they were sunken. Her eyes had trouble focussing. Was it really 50 years since she joined Dystopia Inc when it was a new start-up that promised eternal life? Fifty years ago, it had seemed the best way to escape from the world where life was becoming more and more impossible.

She had been sold utopia to end up restrained on a bed where a decrepit old man tended to her. Only this wasn't just any decrepit old man, she realised with a flash of clarity. "Spencer! come back" she screamed "Spencer!!"

Outside, Spencer slid down the door and sobbed as the gas filled his lungs. He had known this day would come. "I'm sorry, Abbie," he whispered, " I love you."