I am sitting. I stare into space, into infinity, to the sky. And I think, endlessly, of one thing. Why me?
****

Men and woman write stories of immortal heroes, vampires and gods... all of those are fictional characters. But see me- I have lived the span of two thousand men's lives, and my skin has shown no sign of withering. I do not fear age, or death. It would be nonsensical if I did, for I cannot die. But oh, I am real. I am a man, like you. Human. Tangible. Real.

At one point, I was born. And I grew up. I walked the world, felt the earth, and stopped to smell the roses, too... but at one point, I stopped for good. I stopped, and never restarted. Time passed me by, and though it continued, I did not- in more ways than one. I do not grow, or age. I do not feel or see new things- I have seen and experienced almost everything existence has to offer. There is only one hopeless exception, the only thing I am certain to never know. It is for that exception that I now look to the stars for, and pray for. I never will see it, I know there is no hope... but I probably won't move from my spot. I am comfortable here. Doing nothing, sitting and never moving again...it is like death, which I yearn for most.

At one point, there were others. People and animals and oceans and grasses and wildlife- I had some sort of home, and trifling comforts. Friends- I had friends. Yes, Mary; I remember her now- she was never mean to me, and always a kind lady. And my friend Judas... headstrong, but a friend nonetheless. It was all so good... too bad it didn't last. Nothing did. It is just me, immortal, eternally twenty.

At one point, I had needs. Food and drink were vital. I was more a human during those two decades than I ever will be again... I tasted food and quenched my thirst, and found relief in it all. I could cool my tongue with the soothing water from a well, and I would pick blackberries among the brambles. And oxygen... I would inhale and exhale, and experience relief with each action. But I was young then, my life was changing. Now I am just a solid, unmoving piece of existence. No air, no food, no drink is necessary. None exist, anyway.

At one point, I learned. Yes, I learned of everything- cultures and languages and sciences. Math and technology were still developing, so my knowledge grew. I relished in new information, and even as I stopped changing the world didn't. So, with infinite time on my hands, I learned everything there was to know in that field. And I moved from that field to the next. And when I gained what I could from that region of the world, Asia and Africa, I was greedy and craved more, and so at one point I traveled to gain cognition.

At one point, I traveled. The year of 2014 was the fastest era of travel I can recall. Planes were completely forgotten, and sleek metal jets were the common mode of transportation. And since I was good at saving money, and had no reason to spend it except my own leisure, I purchases my own flying machine. I roamed the world, and all of the countries. But inevitable disaster struck, eventually. First, it was many animals that went extinct, and then humans. And new knowledge died with the people. There was nothing new to interest me. No one existed to renew information- I suppose I could've, but I found no interest in providing. Just learning. And just like that, any incentive I had to continue living was abruptly put to an end.

I became depressed. I settled down in the Israel, the country where my adventure started. And I sat, picking up dust, for the rest of my miserable existence. Around me the last puddles of water slowly evaporate and never rain down again. Around me, the earth itself erodes. Soon there will be nothing left to support me, and if I am lucky I will die. But I do not think so.

Yes, my brain has retained some information, which is surely the only remnant of any human habitation left on earth. But some of my precious files have started to fade and become illegible, and others follow those constantly- even my own name has started to slip away. I am sure my whole store of infinite knowledge will evaporate, soon enough.

And now, I sit. Though humans caused their own unexpected, early end- only two thousand fourteen years into the era of A.D- I continue to remain. I could easily stand for all this time, and not bother with the chair, for one of the many quirks I retain is unfailing strength. But sitting is easier, and the metal chair is comfortable. The iron will not decay, so I know I can sit for as long as I need- for eternity. I will forever look to the sky and ask God 'Why me?'.

And I will never get an answer.