Prologue

I gave it another shot. One moment, one second, that's all it takes.

For most people you're here one moment and gone the next. Just one second is all it can take for your life to cease.

That's all you need to die.

And am I ever sick of it.

I raised the knife, wanting to end my existence for once.

I've lived too long. I've seen too much. I've killed. I've seen killing. I've seen so much death, so much life, it kills me.

Ha.

That's actually really funny.

With one movement, one second, I plunged the knife into my heart. Immediately my brain shut down. I knew it was happening as I died.

I lifted out of my body, seeing myself from below. My spirit always did this. Then, right after that, I'm sucked out of the room and into the next dimension.

At least, that's what I think it is. It's not like ours at all, so I just assume it's a dimension.

Other spirits flew past mine. They all got where they were going. They all get to go where I can't – death.

I felt another force, pulling me back to my body. This time I didn't even resist. I've tried before. I can only delay the inevitable.

I was back in my body. The knife remained sticking out of my chest. There wasn't any blood, anywhere. I sighed, pulling out the knife. It slid out easily. I threw it across the alley in anger.

Hi. I'm Hope Williams, and I'm immortal.

I don't even know how. All I know is that I was born on January 1st, 1800. I aged normally until I hit the age of sixteen. I have no idea why that's the age, it just is.

After that, nobody seemed to understand why I wasn't getting old. In the year 1843, my dad tried to kill me. He thought I was a demon sent from hell, sent to destroy his family. After all, what normal person could possibly be immortal?

I didn't die when he killed me. No matter how small any injury is, it heals after about a minute. Even if it's fatal, somehow I rise from the dead.

Later I pretended to be a boy. In that time, you could get off easier with being male.

A very sad fact.

I joined the Civil War. Then I ran again, living on the streets. I still do live on the streets. It's my kind of life.

I survived that – obviously. Then I joined World War one. And then the second one. Since I'm in Canada, I fought on their side both times. Since I obviously survived those, I managed to keep an alright life going on and live on the streets.

I've tried killing myself loads of times. I killed people in the war and every time I wondered why they had it so easy. I knew there was something after life – but what, that I'd never know.

So that's me. I've never known peace. I've never known love, or calm, or friendship. I've never been to school. I'm "uneducated" for the real world but on the streets, you don't want to cross me.

I'm 212 years old.

And I don't even have wrinkles.

That's me. That's the wonderful Hope Williams.

I'm not bright, or talented, or fun. I'm hopeless. I'm nothing, worthless.

My only wish is to die.