How To End Eternity

“Humanity sucks.”

Aria lay on a modern, black leather couch, her gaze wandering through the office of psychiatrist Dr. Jacob Bergstein. She had been in many such rooms before, and they were always the same: A mahogany desk dominated one corner, heavy bookshelves lined the walls, filled with tomes on the human mind, and at least one obligatory houseplant – usually a dieffenbachia – struggled for life somewhere close to the window, that was impossible to look through due to the grey blinds. Diplomas invariably adorned the walls, degrees from Ivy League universities, ostensibly testifying to the psychiatrist’s ability to help her.

But she wasn’t interested in such accolades. She had chosen Dr. Bergstein for three simple reasons: he was available, she had a lot on her mind, and he had red hair just like her – a trait that Aria, for reasons unknown even to herself, always found oddly trustworthy. Though he was more dark blonde with just a slight hint of reddish.

“I swear, thousands of years and what’s humanity’s grand achievement? NOTHING! An endless cycle of war, theft, and murder. And betrayal. Ohhhh, betrayal is a big one,” she spat, dramatically flinging her arms skyward. ” I’ve witnessed more wars than your precious history books could ever hope to document. HAH! People were busy slaughtering each other long before anyone thought to jot it down. And guess what? Nothing’s going to change. Humans are just monumentally stupid. Pathetic creatures. They’re puppets dancing to the strings of their feelings, or salivating over the prospect of power and fame. It makes them so goddamn weak it’s almost painful to watch.”

Aria abruptly shot up from the couch, inhaling deeply before pacing in frantic circles around it. Her footsteps were dampened by the thick ugly-grey carpet.

“I never asked to be immortal. Sure, it was kinda cool for a century, maybe two, but can you even fathom how shitty it is to constantly reinvent your entire identity?” She whirled on the doctor, eyes blazing. “And now, in your modern world? Everything’s exponentially harder because every tiny little detail has to be digitally documented. Fingerprints, social security numbers, photos - it’s a bureaucratic nightmare! Back in the day, it was so much simpler. You just rolled into a new town, declared your new name, and BAM! Instant clean slate.”

She flopped back onto the couch with a dramatic thud, sprawling out and fixing her gaze on the ceiling. “Look, I’m not trying to come off as some ungrateful bitch. I mean, hey, I’ve racked up more degrees than your entire family tree combined - I just nabbed my hundredth last year. But for fuck’s sake, I just want to die. You know? Kicking the bucket, pushing up daisies. I just want to start rotting, okay?”

Aria clapped her hands over her face, momentarily tuning into the monotonous ticking of the bland wall clock above the door. The shrink maintained his silence, exactly as she had demanded when she booked this little therapy session.

Every decade or so, she simply had to purge her pent-up frustration - sometimes to a sloshed hobo, occasionally to some random kid, or, like now, to a certified ‘soul mechanic’. But she couldn’t care less about his two-bit advice or pseudo-profound insights. This was purely a one-way verbal dumpster fire, and she intended to keep it that way.

“I’ve got nearly five thousand years under my belt, Doc. Five. Thousand. I’m exhausted - bone-deep tired of this whole fucking life gig and everything that comes packaged with it. I don’t want to grind through some mind-numbing job day after day after goddamn day anymore. It’s not like I need the cash - seriously, if you can’t figure out how to get stinking rich after millennia on this planet, you’re a lost cause. But no, I have to blend into the faceless sea of worker drones to keep a low profile. I work as a fucking cashier. Can you even comprehend that level of mundanity? I speak 47 languages fluently, it used to be more but you tend to forget a lot over the centuries, you know? I have probably forgotten more knowledge than all libraries hold, and I spend my days ringing up cases of beer and frozen pizzas for mouth-breathers who don’t realize no one will remember them a hundred years from now.”

A loud, guttural moan ripped from Aria’s throat as she slumped over the side of the couch, head nearly brushing the floor. “And it’s not like I haven’t tried to kill myself, believe me. But that’s the problem with this immortality shit - you literally can’t die. And it sucks!” She cackled darkly. “Yet all those vapid girls just eat up those boring vampire romance novels with a spoon, dreaming about exactly this. ‘Ooooh, how peeerfect to spend forever with my one true love!’ Sorry, Bella - that’s not how it works, honey. For starters, no one else is stuck with this immortal curse. And secondly, could you imagine an eternity shackled to the same sad sap? Congratulations, you’re bound for life to Wilfred, the human equivalent of an iPhone 2 - have fun with that relic until death mercifully parts you. Or not. The joke’s on me.”

She paused for dramatic effect as Dr. Bergstein cleared his throat twice, scribbling furiously onto his notepad. Aria could practically envision what he was writing down - a recommendation to have her committed, just like his predecessor had tried. And the one before that. And the quack before that.

“Love? Love doesn’t exist,” she scoffed. “There is no love, only betrayal. People cheat, they hurt each other - it’s a vicious cycle. Hell, almost every other marriage ends in divorce these days. It’s hopeless. And soulmates? Please. Even if such a thing existed, my supposed ‘perfect partner’ started his dirt nap thousands of years ago, bones already turned to dust in some unmarked grave.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Not that it matters. I can never stay planted in one place for more than a decade anyway before questions start about my eternal youth and stubborn refusal to age a motherfucking day. I’m forever frozen at Eighteen, Doc. Eighteen! My ID says twenty-four, but I still get carded buying booze. Barbara, I was around when they were building the fucking Colosseum in Rome - you seriously think I’m under twenty-one? What’s wrong with you people?”

As she slowly exhaled, Aria felt the frustration of the past decade dissipating. It felt cathartic to purge it all, even if she knew the psychiatrist didn’t believe a word tumbling from her lips. Slowly, she pushed herself back into a seating position, looking at her fingernails.

“It’s not all doom and gloom, I suppose. I’ve lived in every country on this planet - minus South Sudan, but that one’s still a fledgling.” A wry smirk played across her lips. “I’ve met more than my fair share of interesting people. But let me tell you, a lot of what you humans think you know about history? Dead wrong. But what’s the point in correcting the record when no one would ever believe me? It sucks being this insurmountable well of knowledge with nowhere to channel it. And you know what sucks even more? Social media. Besides the fact that these so-called influencers make a fortune by selling a fake life to their stupid sheep, I just hate it. I have to constantly be on guard that no one snaps a photo and uploads it, exposing me to the world. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to live this underground life? Everywhere nowadays are cameras. Plus the idiotic smartphone zombies who snap a trazillion pictures they will never look at again every fucking day.” Her gaze drifted restfully. “Sometimes I dream of a simple life - a tiny cabin in the wilderness, finally able to exist in peace. But even more beautiful would be the release of death. I just want to die, Dr. Bergstein. Is that too much to ask?”

Aria knew death was a slippery little bitch, the very reason she was still trudging through this mortal coil. For a second she considered telling him the origin of her immortality, but the shrink already looked fogged enough - His eyebrows raised and so close together that they almost touched, and his eyes darted back and forth between her and his notebook.

“I’ve tried it all. Poison, drowning, bullets - hell, I even got a front-row seat to the barbecue in Salem, in 1692. Spoiler alert: being burned at the stake? Not as final as advertised.” She rocked her head in sync with the clock’s monotonous ticking before collapsing back onto the couch, eyes squeezed shut. “Life is just so damn draining, you know? Sure, it’s gotten easier - washing machines, dishwashers, cars, the whole shebang. But we’re not exactly hurtling towards utopia here.” A humorless chuckle escaped her lips. “Remember that movie ‘Idiocracy’? We’re living it, Doc. Humanity’s getting dumber by the second. I mean, Trump was president, that’s proof enough. And the current shitshow? Not exactly a relaxing spa day. War in Ukraine, war in Israel... I’m just waiting for that North Korean battle gnome to lose his marbles and BOOM! World War III!”

Aria bolted upright, her mind suddenly racing at warp speed. The specter of atomic warfare loomed large in her immortal fears. It was this specific thought that kept her awake at night - the mere thought of it fueled her nightmares. Unable to contain her nervousness, she got up and started another relentless journey around the couch.

“What the hell am I supposed to do if there’s a nuclear war, huh? Humanity gets wiped out. Everyone bites the dust. You, him, her - all gone. Except me. I’ll be the last woman standing on this godforsaken rock.” Her voice took on a manic edge. “Sure, no more Karens or other brain-dead morons to deal with, but eternal solitude? Hard pass.” She paced frantically, gesticulating wildly. “I’ve had friends, you know. Tons of ’em. But guess what? They’re all worm food now. And making new ones? It’s a bitch and a half. No one can relate to me. Maybe I’m a tad too blunt. Sarcastic. Perpetually pissed off. You catching my drift?” Aria’s eyes rolled so hard they nearly fell out of her skull. “And don’t even get me started on your pathetic social rituals. Ridiculous and useless. Birthdays? Anniversaries? Thanksgiving? GODDAMMIT! Christmas and Easter - seriously, what the ever-loving fuck is wrong with humanity?”

She halted mid-stride, whirling to face the psychiatrist with an expression of utter bewilderment. “Easter! You buy into the whole Jesus resurrection shit - which, like all religion-related stuff, is a load of bullshit - but here’s the kicker: you celebrate by hunting for EGGS? Supposedly delivered by a RABBIT?” Her voice climbed an octave with each word. “A fucking BUNNY? And Christmas. You’re telling me you commemorate the birth of ‘God’s Son’ by letting some obese geriatric in a red suit break into your house? What is wrong with you people? You’re not just garden-variety stupid. You’re weapons-grade moronic. And it’s getting worse with each passing generation.” Aria paused, shooting Dr. Bergstein a half-hearted glance. “No offense, Doc. I’m sure you’re one of the ‘smart ones’ or whatever. But let’s face it - humanity is circling the drain. You’re beyond hope, beyond saving. You’re so far gone, you can’t even see how far gone you are anymore.”

The psychiatrist squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. But Aria was just hitting her stride. She planted her hands on her hips, marching back and forth across the office like a general addressing her troops. She had talked herself into a rage and now there was no stopping possible - the hate had to be released.

“Let’s talk about the Covid pandemic. What in the goddamn fuck was that circus? I’ve weathered more pandemics than you’ve had hot dinners. The plague? Been there, done that - multiple encores. Smallpox? Spanish flu? Amateur hour. Back then, people barely knew squat about transmission, infection, and all that jazz, so it was no wonder it all went down the drain. But now? We had Neanderthals throwing temper tantrums over wearing a piece of cloth on their faces. It was like watching evolution in reverse, I swear. You’ve got all this knowledge at your fingertips, and what did you do? Argue with cashiers about your constitutional right to BREATHE. Bravo, humanity. Bravo.”

Suddenly, Aria whirled around, jabbing an accusatory finger at the psychiatrist. “ANTIVAXXERS!” she bellowed. “Complete and utter morons. Absolute lunatics. Ugh, vaccines cause autism," she mimicked in a whiny voice. “BULLSHIT! I lived through times when you were lucky if one in five offspring made it to their second birthday. And don’t even get me started on the gullible idiots who swallow every half-baked conspiracy theory the internet regurgitates.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Flat Earthers! These are my personal favorites. You can drown them in scientific evidence, and they’ll still cling to their moronic beliefs. You know what? I’ve got more money than Musk, Bezos, and Zuckerberg combined. Maybe I should produce a reality show. Call it ‘Journey to the Edge of Human Stupidity.’ We’ll load up a ship with twenty of these numbskulls and sail towards the horizon. Let’s see how long it takes before they realize we’re not going to fall off. For fuck’s sake, even medieval peasants knew the Earth was round! And Qanon? The fuck? 5G conspiracies, lizard people, Britney Spears is apparently some kind of reptilian overlord! It’s like a competition to see who can be the biggest tinfoil hat-wearing nutjob. I can’t... I just can’t with these people anymore. Five thousand years on this planet, and THIS is what humanity has devolved into? Beam me up, Scotty - I want off this crazy train!”

Aria paused, inhaling deeply with her eyes closed, momentarily calming her rage. But it was no use.

“So, humanity manages to develop the internet. Fan-fucking-tastic. A wealth of KNOWLEDGE! No. The Internet is basically porn, conspiracies, kittens, and morons. As well as television. You could spend hours educating yourself through documentaries. But what do you do with it? Binge-watch mindless drivel like The Bachelor or that show where naked dimwits try to find ‘true love’ on some godforsaken island. Or the Kardashians." Aria’s voice dripped with pure hatred. She threw her hands up in despair. “It’s all pointless. As pointless as humanity itself. You don’t have a fucking purpose anymore! You peaked somewhere in the 18th century, and it’s been a nosedive ever since!”

For the first time, as her rage slowly subsided, she actually looked at Dr. Bergstein. He was young, probably in his early 30s, with those stereotypical intellectual glasses perched on his nose. Behind them, a pair of brown eyes - intelligent, but currently wide with a cocktail of horror and disbelief. He seemed to be tall, and lean, and was decked out in jeans and a shirt - all he needed was a tweed vest to complete the shrink starter pack.

“I mean, seriously. For a hot minute there, you were on an upward trajectory. Inventing stuff, starting to grasp how the world actually works. Astronomy, chemistry, physics. Philosophy! You were questioning things, using those mushy lumps between your ears.” Aria began circling the couch again, her pace quickening with each lap as her frustration mounted. “But then, BAM! 19th century hits, and it’s all downhill from there. A non-stop express train to Dumbville. The poor get poorer, the rich get richer, and the only way to live comfortably is to swim in cash. Then you can blast off in your compensatory cock-rocket or buy Twitter just to run it into the ground.” Her voice rose an octave. “And don’t even get me started on women’s rights. Fuck! I’d love to say we’ve been oppressed for thousands of years, but that’s not even true! Back in Viking times, we were respected, revered even. Die in childbirth? Congrats, you get a warrior’s burial. But then, bit by bit, our rights were stripped away. We had to set our bras on fire just to get a smidgen of equality.” Aria’s face contorted with rage. “And now? Here I am, stuck in the 21st century, in a country that jerks itself off about being ‘the greatest in the world,’ and what happens? Roe vs. Wade gets overturned. No more right to abortion. Not even in a medical emergency! What’s next? Bringing back public witch burnings? Relying on a husband to open a bank account?”

She collapsed onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. The weight of millennia seemed to press down on her shoulders as she contemplated the dumpster fire of recent years and the looming disaster ahead.

“It’s like living in a fever dream. This country? It’s not just broken, it’s shattered beyond repair. We’ve got morons in the government and even bigger morons on the streets. We call ourselves a first-world country, but we can’t even provide basic, affordable healthcare. Young people, kids younger than you, Doc, are dying in agony because they can’t afford insulin. Fucking insulin!” She lifted her head, eyes hollow with despair. “We’re in a nosedive, Dr. Bergstein, and there’s no pulling up. Humanity’s passed the point of no return, and I’m trapped on this sinking ship with you lot. Best case scenario? You go out with a bang in World War III - quick and painless for most. Worst case? You slowly choke on our stupidity. Either way, the clock’s ticking for humanity. And you know what? Good riddance.” A bitter smile twisted her lips. “Mother Nature will throw a party when we’re gone. No more self-important apes acting like they’ve got a spare planet in their trunk.”

Aria closed her eyes, taking four deep breaths. When she opened them again, the fire had died, leaving behind a cold, empty resignation. Her gaze locked onto the psychiatrist, devoid of its earlier fury. The weight of eons still pressed down on her, along with an ocean of disdain for humanity and a black hole of hopelessness. But at least the anger had dissipated. Tonight, for the first time in ages, she might actually get some peaceful sleep.

“I’m drifting off. Long story short: humanity sucks, I’m still over it, but I’ve vented enough that I probably won’t strangle anyone for the next decade or so.” Aria stood, shrugging on her jacket with a wry smirk. “I know you don’t buy a word of this. You’re probably itching to have me committed, thinking I’m a few fries short of a Happy Meal. And hey, you’re not entirely wrong - but every word was true.” She headed for the door, tossing a final glance over her shoulder. “Thank you, Dr. Bergstein. I need this release every few years. Keeps me sane... well, sane-ish.” Her voice softened, almost imperceptibly. “Have a good life, Doc. Enjoy it while you can. It’s short for you, after all.”

And with these parting words, Aria left the office, closing the door behind her, and feeling like a newborn.