Used to think that if I had any superpower, I would pick immortality. I don’t have any close friends or a family and I considered myself to have a strong enough will to hold myself together through my infinite lifetime.

So why?

Why won’t it let me die? I’m supposed to die…why won’t it let me? Is it because I can see it? I can’t close my eyes anymore…

I see it between my toes and under my armpits; up through my nose and stomach, down to my other organs and up my brain. I couldn’t describe it properly even if I wanted to…I have no mouth. Every time I took a breath it felt like it propagated itself deeper and deeper, like the very air that I was inhaling fed it like some disgusting parasite.

It started as a rash…just a rash. I went to get it checked but the doctor said that I shouldn’t do anything but wait for it to disappear or show any other effects on my body.

I didn’t go again…not because I didn’t want to but because it spread to my legs. At first it felt like a small itch running through my skin, didn’t think anything about it…that was until I couldn’t feel them anymore. I tried calling the doctor but it had spread to my hands as well.

I was terrified. My hands and legs became hardened and deteriorated like rusted metal, I could not move. I managed to claw myself to the bedroom before I felt the itch again; it spread and spread, transforming every part of me into rusty metal, I managed to get on top of my bed before I could not move anymore; my body stopped being my own.

I could still see…

Even if the rust, the corrosion had spread, propagated itself throughout everything… even taking my eyelids, it did not take my eyes.

I wish I could die. Seizing to exist would be better than seeing myself rust and rot like a broken-down car; my body, a shadow of what it used to be, not even recognizable as something that was human. The organs and legs turning into dust and the strange and vile mold growing through the ribcage and extending through my forearms. Wanting to scream but having no vocal cords. Wanting to cry but having tear ducts so corroded and dry you can’t produce a tear.

Wanting somebody to put you out of your own misery but not having a single soul by your side.

Is this what immortality feels like?

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