In this dystopian world, everyone is so obsessed with anti-aging that they make others do it too. That what I learned a few weeks ago, when I crouched by the door to the kitchen, pressing my ear to the thick wood in an attempt to eavesdrop on the three people gathered around the table. My parents and my grandfather. Their voices were quiet, but growing more animated.

“I’m one of the only people left who remembers when people died from old age. I don’t belong in this new world,” my grandfather was saying. “You know it’s true.”

“It’s not,” my father insisted. “We need you here. Elle needs you here.” My eyes widened at the sound of my name.

My grandfather snorted, “That’s not true, and you know it. She’ll be fine without me, and so will you both. You’re making a steady income as it is.” His voice dropped, and I had to strain to hear it. “It’s been too long. I lived in a world that expected death, and I’m at peace with it. There’d be no point in living further.”

“Stop saying that,” my mother snapped. “There’s plenty to live for. What about us? What about your granddaughter? Don’t you think you’re being selfish?!”

“That’s enough.” I could almost picture my father reaching over to clasp my mother’s hand between his own. “It’s getting late. We should all sleep on it, and we can talk more tomorrow.”

“Very well.” There was a scrape of one chair, and slow footsteps creaked across the floor. Too late, I realized someone was coming. I shrank against the wall, heart pounding, as the door opened. My grandfather paused, staring down at me in the dim lighting.

“What is it?” My father called from the kitchen. I pleaded with my eyes.

“Nothing,” my grandfather said, letting the door swing shut. “Just thought I saw something.” He held out a hand and helped me to my feet. “You should be sleeping,” he said sternly.

“I know,” I said, unable to meet his gaze. “But grandpa, are you really going to die?” When I glanced up, his face had softened.

“Elle, this is the way the world was meant to be. What’s happening now is… unnatural. It will become normal, of course. Kids in your generation will know nothing of old age. They won’t know what’s it like to look in the mirror as the days grow old and see wrinkles or dark spots.” He tapped his cheek ruefully. “Bones won’t break easily. Joints won’t creak. Everyone will have their own perfect body.” The shadows in the lines of his face grew darker. “But if everyone’s perfect, what then? What else is there?”

I shivered. He took my hand gently, fingers trembling just a little bit. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Why don’t you go to bed now, hmm? Otherwise you’ll be cranky in the morning.” I nodded, and he walked to his room.

But I didn’t go back to bed, not yet. I could hear my parents still talking, and I needed to know what they were saying. I returned to my position by the door.

“…can’t force him.” That was my mother. “People would think we’re barbaric.”

“He’s in our care,” my father said. “That means we can do what we think is best for his health.”

“So there is a way?” There was a moment of silence, maybe my father hesitating.

“I think so.” I stood up. I didn’t want to hear anymore. They would force my grandfather to keep living, against his will. I didn’t want my grandfather to die, but neither did I want him to live a life he wasn’t happy with. But there was nothing I could do. Or was there?

I crept along the hallway with silent feet. Knocking at my grandfather’s door, I slowly pushed it open. My grandfather sat at his desk with his reading glasses on, writing. He looked up, not seeming at all surprised.

“Yes?”

“Grandpa,” I whispered. “They’re still going to do it.” He frowned and nodded.

“Thank you. Now, go to bed for real. And Elle,” he said as I slipped out the door. I looked back and he smiled at me. “I love you.”

The next morning, he was gone.