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Back 3 a.m.
Chapters (67)
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  67. 3:46 a.m.

I let out a deep exhale. The idea of relearning how to speak, relearning how to write, relearning how to brush my teeth. Then again, I wouldn’t have a one hour limitation. I would have as many hours as there are in a day. If your average person did it in three years, I might do it in two. Sure, the first couple years would be tough, but after that, I would have the next forty to sixty years to be normal.

We are talking 20,000 hours awake versus 300,000.

But there was more at stake than just walking and talking.

“What about all my memories?”

He shakes his head.

Ingrid.

My dad.

Lassie.

Murdock.

I would forget them all. Forget I even know them.

The thought makes me want to cry.

Was I being selfish? Thinking of doing this?

No, of course not.

These people love me. They want me to be normal. They want me to be awake sixteen hours a day.

Also, I wanted to be a father. If I didn’t do it for myself, I had to do it for my future child.

I look down at my watch.

It’s 3:26 a.m.

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do it.”

::::

With my left hand destroyed, it takes me twenty minutes to write three emails.

The first two are to my father and Ingrid. I tell them what I am about to do and why I’m doing it. That it will be tough at first, but it will be worth it in the end. That they will have to be patient with me, to tell me stories of our memories. That I promise I will learn to love them each more than I loved them before. I thank them both for the amazing memories. That I cherish them, but that I am ready to be born anew.

The third email is to myself.

I push send, then walk back to the White Room.

It is 3:46 a.m.

I release Ewen from the restraints.

I point the gun at him and say simply, “I will shoot you in the balls if you try anything.”

He nods.

Back in the lab, Ewen ushers me to a machine. It looks much the same as an MRI machine.

“You will have to get rid of the gun, you can’t have anything metal in there.”

I have no reason to trust Ewen, but I do. Not the person. The scientist. I can see the curiosity in his eyes. He could do anything to me, but at this point his biggest worry is if he can fix me.

I lay the gun on the counter.

“Your watch too,” he says.

I take it off and set it next to the gun.

It reads 3:50 a.m.

I laugh at the thought this might be the last time I ever check the time. When I wake up, time will no longer matter.

“Lie down,” he says.

I lie down in the machine.