Alone

I sat up and read the morning paper. This is my fortieth birthday. Hard to believe how the years have flown by, and who knows just how fast they might go yet.

It is April 15th 2010. I have just filed my taxes and have had my tax return sent to the local church. All of my belongings have been sold and all of my holdings are being managed by an old investment firm, which I am sure will be around for a long time. It will have to be around for a long time, because you see, I may not be around for a while.

Two years ago Arctic Cryonics announced that they had perfected a freezing process that would allow a human being to be brought back from a deep freeze. No matter how long they were frozen. I have decided to now take that step because the world in which I live has become too horrible to bear.

Let me give you some back ground.

My name is Reggie Goings. I am a gay man. Newly forty years old and I have seen the AIDS epidemic rage on for most of my life. Every year we hear of a possible cure or vaccine or something, but year after year I see more and more of my friends pass. I have not dated or been in love for 15 years. I have never been so alone in the world. My friends tell me that I should just let go and be safe and try to find someone to love. I cannot. I don’t know of anyone who is not sick except for me. I can’t bear to love someone, only to lose them. I can barely stand to see my friends in their suffering anymore. I feel so alone. I feel like the loneliest man on earth.

Today though, I will make that daring, yet fearful step into the future.

I will be cryogenically frozen and, as I have instructed the doctors at Arctic Cryonics, will be brought back from my frosty slumber when the cure for this dreaded disease is found. Oh I am frightened but I would rather make this leap than to spend anymore years watching the people I love drop, one by one until all of them are gone.

It’s time to go. The car from the lab is here to pick me up. I am on my way!

We pull into the driveway. The front of the lab is as cold as the chamber that I will rest in will be. I am escorted to the preparation room. I give them the clothes that I am wearing, my watch and my glasses. I have asked that I be aloud to keep a small gold cross that belonged to my mother until they are ready to close my chamber door.

I walk down the long hallway to the lab where I be staying for my long, unsure visit. I clutch that small gold cross, praying that I am making the right decision. I feel the gaze of the doctors and attendants as I walk past them. Each of them has a cold, blank look on their faces. They make me feel colder than I’m sure I will feel when I slip into my resting place. The fear and anxiety grow stronger with each step that I take. My legs feel like rubber. Then just when I don’t think that I can take another step, we are in the lab.

A long row of glass and steel like coffins line the room. "Chamber number 24" the doctor says motioning for me to proceed.