My name is Richard Immortus. I was born in London, England in the year 1323. I am immortal. I cannot die. I have tried every method of suicide, known and unknown, but nothing can end my suffering-- my torment. The beginning of my eternal disposition began when my wife, Nora, became ill with Black Death and was dying. I sought out a local witch doctor in hopes of healing her. To my horror, the witch doctor did the very opposite of my demand, killing Nora, and cursing me to a life of immortality. In my anguish I attempted to commit suicide, but to no avail. I could not die, my injuries heal almost instantly. Not knowing what else to do, where else to go, I returned to the witch doctor.
“Lift your curse you demon!” I cried furiously. “Bring her back!”
Upon my entrance, the witch doctor vanished. I searched the entire town for him, but I was as if he had disappeared from the earth. Finding myself alone once again, I sat down—and wept. I wept for days, with nothing to eat and nothing to drink. I was in complete despair. What purpose did I know have to live? To live forever with no purpose. Over the course of my almost 700 years of life, I have fallen in love with numerous women, but as they continue to grow old, I remain ageless. Every person I have ever loved is dead. Although I long to join them where they are, I can never see them again. I spend every moment of my bleak eternity searching endlessly for a way, a manner of reversing this curse that has been cast upon me.
Oh how I wish to see my dear wife Nora again. My ears long to ear her voice, my skin yearns to feel her touch, and my eyes desire to behold her beauty. I feel as though I have lost a part of me, losing my dear wife. I feel as if I am not whole, as if I am dead but alive. My heart aches for her to next to me again.
After centuries of searching, I thought I had finally found a person to lift my curse. I traveled to small town in Uganda, East Africa, where I discovered a witch doctor who said he could help me. He initiated a ritual that he claimed would lift my curse of immortality. Upon finishing the ritual, to test the effects, I stabbed myself through the heart with a dagger. Much to my dismay, the ritual was an utter failure.
“I regret to inform you, the curse set on you cannot be lifted,” the witch doctor said uncomfortably.
And so I suppose it is inevitable that I life forever. Some may welcome eternal life as a gift, while others acknowledge it as a curse. For the rest of eternity and forever I will never forget my first love, Nora. However, this begs the question, how long is forever?