The cocktail of drugs entering my veins burned momentarily as the bright purple liquid disappeared into my arm. The doctor smiled at me as he patted my daughters blonde curly hair. “You will feel very calm, maybe a little spaced out, and then you will get sleepy. When you wake up again, the date will be eight hundred years in the past from now. It should take about fifteen minutes for the effects to hit, and then you will wake up in what feels like no time at all and begin your new life!” He said brightly. To him, this was just another routine day no doubt. To us though, it was the end of one miserable life, and the beginning of hopefully a much better one.  

My mother clutched her bag of seeds tightly to her chest on the other side of my daughter. The seeds had cost us everything we had. Our home, our scant furniture, extra clothing, and even our shoes. It was our pathway to a better future. Farmers, in a much simpler time. “Will we know where we are when we wake up?” She asked, worry making her voice hoarse. 

“Of course. You will be groggy, and maybe a little nauseous from the time travel, but you will awake in a settlement of people like you from the future. They will help you get started on your new life and answer any concerns.” 

A new life. A new opportunity. It was too good to pass up. The ad read ‘Adventurous people needed! Time travel for free! A new life! Past or Future!’ 

We needed a new life. Things had been difficult. We didn’t have enough food, and we jumped from apartment to apartment. Rooms really. Overpopulation was a rampant problem now, and landlords no longer followed the rules. Housing was squalid and overpriced but if you didn’t pay, they no longer had to warn you about eviction. They simply tossed you out. Chances were, if you coulnd't afford to pay for a room, you couldn't afford a lawyer. Food was too expensive. Jobs scarce. Time travel was the way out. If you could find a way to afford it. 

The ad was a life saver. All we had to do was keep meticulous records of the time and places we were staying in, and send reports once a month for historians who were studying how our actions impacted the future.

I leaned back in the chair. The drugs made me feel fuzzy. I had been told the drugs were similar to a euphoric feeling, but I only felt confusion and a mild sort of zen. It had been nearly twenty minutes now. Surely I should be asleep. I looked to my mother. She looked utterly at peace. A smile lay across her wrinkled cheeks, and her head lolled back as she looked upward. I watched she let out a sigh of contentment and closed her eyes. 

I nodded to myself in absolution of my decision. She needed this. She had worked hard all her life, it was time for her to go somewhere beautiful and relax. I looked at my daughter, who was too small and thin. She needed this too, more than any of us. She needed good food, good air, and a childhood. 

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The contentment evaporated as I realized my daughter wasn’t breathing. I waited for her chest to rise and fall, but it lay flat. Was that supposed to happen? My mind was too fuzzy to think clearly. Why was she not breathing? A small curl of her lips showed where a smile had been, but her brown eyes were shut tight and her face too pale. I tried to reach out, but my motor skills were hampered by my fuzzy mind and my hand simply fell into my lap.

I looked at my mother to see if I could get her attention, and I watched in horror as her breathing before my very eyes slowed and also stopped. I could feel the cold touch of fear, but my heart didn’t race. The drugs were working somewhat. My emotions, like my motor control, were impaired somehow.

I managed to roll my head around and found the doctor by the door of the small room we occupied. As I watched, he checked his watch and nodded to himself before turning his attention to us and walking forwards. He stopped in shock when he saw me looking at him through my unfocused eyes. 

He quickly took out a device and began punching numbers. I tried to call to him to help, to save my daughter and mother, but my vocal cords could only let out a small raspy hum. He glanced up at me and back down, before turning away, panic in his eyes. I could barely breathe, though if that was from the drugs or my fear I was not sure.  

He finally turned and approached me with gentleness and kindness. Regret was stamped across his face. 

“I’m sorry.” he said, tears in his eyes. I blinked at him in confusion. “This has never happened before. But I can’t lie to you anymore. This is a way to control population. The poorest are picked, those with the most difficult lives, and we give them a good death. Happiness and peace. You couldn’t ask for better. But, the drugs didn’t work on you for some reason.” 

I stared at him in horror. Euthanasia? This was a euthanasia? What about our new life? My body could not panic, my heart beat steadily away, never missing a beat. But my mind raced with horror. 

He held up a syringe. More purple liquid. I tried to fling myself away but only slid down farther down the chair. He patted my arm gently. “Listen please! I can give you more and overdose you. It’s the same death. Just… faster. Or, I can let you walk free. I’m not a monster. I will give you that choice.” 

I looked at him, and then looked at my mother and child, my question bright in my eyes. Could they be saved? 

He understood and shook his head no. “It’s too late for them, and I’m so very sorry. You weren’t supposed to know. This has never happened before. But I need you to pick quickly before what you have in your veins expires. Otherwise you won’t have a choice. I'm only allowed so much of this liquid per day, its heavily regulated because of it's sedative powers. This is all I can give you to make you overdose.” 

Wasn’t much of a choice really. My life had always been hard. Maybe it was the drug in my blood talking. Maybe it was me. I was tired of it all. It was why I came really. A better death later, or now. We all died in the end. Might as well be happy when I do. What was there to go back to?

I looked at him and nodded. I watched as he blinked back tears and injected the liquid into me again. 

"Again, I'm so very sorry." He whispered. I believed him. The horror in his eyes as he capped the needle told me he would be remembering this for the rest of his life. 

I closed my eyes as sleep, the kind I hadn’t had in years hit me. The drugs were working this time. A true sleep of contentment hit me. The kind of sleep that comes from a full belly, a warm clean house, and peace. Peace at last.