Dead is Dead

Kohlschreiber's Journal

Kohlschreiber’s Journal: November 16th 19–

When I was but twenty-three years of age I cured death. I, William Kohlschreiber, had discovered something that no human being before me had discovered; something that had the potential to change the world as I knew it. Is that not the dream of every scientist? I was so proud of what I had accomplished that I scarce had time to consider what consequences lay in wait of my actions. I hope that this journal will serve as a warning to those who may desire to one day follow in my misguided footsteps.

After graduating from high school I was offered a place at Clerval University, one of the most prestigious universities in the country. Before the letter arrived I had planned to quit the country and travel Europe, but now that I had been accepted father was adamant that I attend the university and study biomedical science like he and his father had before him. I love and adore my father, and naturally I wanted to please him, so I accepted the position at Clerval University. I told myself that I could travel in a few years’ time, after I had completed my degree and attained a job in my field of study – which was almost guaranteed due to the university’s impressive connections.

I was afraid that I wouldn’t enjoy following in my father’s footsteps, but shortly after I began my studies my fears were dispelled. I found the material fascinating and quickly discovered I had an aptitude for my new field of study. At the end of my first year I was among the top 20 students in my class, in second year I was in the top five, but it was in my third year where I truly began to excel. I topped the class by a considerable margin and actually had to prove that I had not cheated in my exams. Near the end of my fourth year, I fell in love with a Swedish girl named Elin. We met at the local coffee shop and after several dates together there was an undeniable attraction between us. She said we had great chemistry; I’ve never been big on jokes, but I liked that one.

My father became concerned that Elin would stand in the way of me completing my studies and obtaining a job, but I persuaded him that it would not, that I could excel at both.

When I had finished my studies for the year, I had a break of just over two months. Elin tried to persuade me to go back to Sweden with her and meet her family, but I did not have the money, and I feared that once I was over there, amongst the beautiful countryside and crisp air, I would never wish to leave. She, the angel of my dreams, understood my dilemma and suggested instead that we take holiday in my country. This was far more acceptable to me, and my father for that matter. Elin and I travelled the East Coast from top to bottom, camping under the stars or staying in hotels or villas where necessary. It was the best two months of my life and each second that I spent with her, I fell more deeply in love. On the final day of our utopian holiday I proposed to her. We had hired a beach villa for a few nights and I filled the bedroom with candles and incense while she embarked on her nightly stroll. When she returned and discovered my intentions she fell down on her knees to meet me, her eyes flowing with tears. She couldn’t speak; all she could do was nod profusely.

My studies were set to resume the following week so we set the wedding for the middle of the year when I would have a one month intermission. We both rejoiced at our future union and the idea of settling down and one day starting a family together. However, as fate would have it, our union never occurred. My dear Elin was struck down with a terrible fever in early April. We had been staying in a cottage just west of my hometown and I had planned to visit my father, who I had not seen in many months. Elin told me that she was feeling a bit under the weather and would have to delay meeting my father a little longer, so I went alone. It was not until I returned that I realised the extent of her illness. I found her lying on the dining room floor, curled up into a little ball, drenched in sweat. She was shaking and had a violent cough which worsened over the following weeks. I wrote to all of the best doctors in the country and requested they come and see her at once, and they did, at considerable expense to me. But none of them knew what was wrong with her or how to cure her. She died on the 16th of May. My dearest Elin, my beautiful Elin, the treasure of my heart and soul.