The bus ride to school was unusually quiet on that fateful day. Typically there was loud talking, irritated honking, and a general liveliness on the bus, but there was nothing but silence then. It was almost as if the world knew what was going to happen, and held its breath in anticipation.
Unaware of my upcoming future, I sat patiently in the back like always, staring out the window with a blank face. I watched the redwoods and buildings blur by, all too familiar with the sight. After a half hour of waiting, the bus finally came to a stop and opened its doors. I stood up, grabbed my backpack, and headed out, somewhat sentimental about the day.
This is the last class, huh. I don't know if I should feel excited or sad about it. The past four years went by quicker than I expected, but I guess that's because I didn't really do anything... Damn, I've wasted a ton of time doing absolutely nothing here.
Small feelings of regret pinched my thoughts -- today was my final day at Stanford, the university my parents had forced me to attend when I was just 15 years old. I had spent the last four years all by myself. Though I had done well academically, I hadn't made any friends, much less a girlfriend, and found myself stuck in a cycle of sleeping, eating, and going to class. I desperately wanted to be social, to go to parties and have fun, but my fear of failure held me back. To change my cycle meant risking everything, as it was the only thing I really had. What if I made a fool of myself, and everyone mocked me because of it? What if the teachers heard of my embarrassment, and decided to tell my parents? I already felt like I was under pressure because of my age, and I didn't want to make my situation any worse. There was only so much I could control in life, and other people were not part of it.
Pushing aside my regret, I began my short walk to Philosophy 499, the final class of the year. I strolled through the main quad, entertained by its beauty, eventually reaching my destination, ten minutes early and no less conflicted than before.
The professor, Dr. Wagner, arrived soon after I did, sitting down at the front. Everyone agreed that while she was a great philosopher and thinker, she was a very strange teacher. She thought it necessary to lecture even though it was our last day, and the other students' annoyance was audible. We weren't taking a final exam for some reason, but Dr. Wagner swore she'd fail anyone if he or she didn't come to the final class, so the room was soon full. When the bell rang, she stood up and began her lesson.
"Everyone put your pens and papers away, there will be no need for notes today."
"Obviously," thought everyone, but no one dared to say it out loud.
"Today, I will be providing you with a simple hypothetical, meant for you to not only question your life thus far but also plan how you will live in the future. Consider it carefully. It goes as follows:
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"Imagine a demon came to you in the middle of the night and threatened to make your life repeat for an infinite amount of time. We're not talking about Groundhog's day repeating though -- I mean that you'll have to relive your life exactly how it is over and over and over again. Every moment you've lived so far and every moment you'll live later on will repeat endlessly, as if your entire life was a circle. My question to you is this: would you, in the face of eternal recurrence, cry from the demon's threat, or laugh with joy?"
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The rest of the class was spent discussing everyone's thoughts on the matter, but I chose not to say anything. As soon as the bell rung again, I was out the door.
Despite my unwillingness to participate, the question floated around my head for the rest of the day; I was mostly irritated by it. My answer to it was obvious: I'd cry, of course. The hypothetical would be nothing short of torture. I mean, surely there was some moment in my life -- a birthday party or celebration or something -- that I'd be glad to relive, but at the time I could hardly think of one. My life had been utterly boring up until this point; all I did was follow other people's requests. Sure, my classmates and teachers thought I was extremely smart and praised me for it, but I didn't care about that -- their compliments meant nothing to me. I only studied hard because my parents expected greatness from me. I only came to class on time because my teachers expected punctuality. And I only followed the rules because everyone expected civility. Nothing I did was genuine, as I had sacrificed myself -- my goals, dreams, and wishes -- to satisfy the people around me.
I thought back -- surely this wasn't always true. When I was a child, all I wanted was to go on a journey. I dreamed of traveling the world in search of beauty and adventure, exploring without limits. But not once, after 19 years of living, had I taken a step outside my comfort zone -- outside my cycle. My parents and society had held me back, and I was too scared to be myself in a world where conformity was valued over individuality. No one cared about who I was past the label of "child genius," so I stopped caring as well. But not anymore: now, now I was ready for a change. No, I wasn't just ready, I needed change!
From this point onwards, I swear that I'll live my life exactly how I want it! No more blindly following others or listening to commands -- I will make my own decisions! God, if you hear this, mark my words: I will never live a moment unworthy of eternal recurrence again! I will walk my own path, never regretting a road not taken!
Congratulations! The Gods have been touched by your earnest desire to change. As a gift, they've given you a couple of paths to choose from. You've been given a chance at a new life, so to speak. Think carefully before coming to a conclusion -- your choice, as with any choice, will affect your future. Whether it is for the better or worse, though, is entirely up to you. Best of luck, and make sure to enjoy your new life!
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[The options/paths for Elijah to choose from will be presented as a poll in the next chapter]