...made aging itself a punishable crime. A group of scientists had perfected a serum that cured the most terrible ailment of all- death. It was released to the public after multiple trials confirmed it was side-effect free. Once you're 30, everyone was required to take the serum, frozen at that age for eternity. And so, people started taking things for granted. Especially time.

But not all of humanity chose that life, and for that, they are punished.

First, they tax you extra once you pass 45. Then, after 55, they can sue you for 'earth space'. They'll do anything to push us toward death- without spilling blood on their hands. And that's not even the worst part. If you do decide to stick through the harassment, at age 60, you'll go straight to jail. Solitary confinement is reserved for the golden trio: the 70s, 80s and 90's.

On the rare chance that someone does reach the big 100- say, a family hid their grandmother in a basement- well, here's the kicker. That someone will be granted full immunity by the government. They'll be given the best treatment- their name splashed across the news, the papers. Treated like a celebrity... until they die of natural causes.

What a joke.

Here I am outside of court, yet again. Looking up, I see the clear blue sky. It was a sharp contrast to my cluttered mind. My hand grips the latest lawsuit- another one I'll be adding to the endless pile I've shuffled to the corner of my room. I have been sued by another nameless nobody. This time, by a 25 year old.

Speak of the devil- there that kid goes, strutting out with smugness practically dripping from every step. I'm glad I'm out of view; or else I'd be sued again for being in his way or something equally stupid he'd make up on the spot. My eyes trail after him until he reaches two other people who are... cheering? Huh. Must be the parents, judging by the way they're hugging all happy. I'm about to leave when I spot something that makes my heart sink.

I reach inside my bag, pulling out a pocket mirror, angling it toward the spot on my neck where the serum was injected. There it is- a small puncture, ringed by a faint yellow halo. I glance back up. The parents have it too. Faint, but visible. It's just starting to emerge- which means they must've just recently gotten the serum.

The serum that failed.

There's one thing the public doesn't know: the serum is safe- for most. But not for everyone. And when the government found that out, they didn't pull the plug. They buried the truth in everyway possible all so they could avoid admitting they were wrong.

I was one of the scientists that created the serum. Back then, I genuinely thought I was helping when I suggested it be made public. Back then, I was just a young protégé trying to make a name for herself. What a fool. Because that faint yellow ring? It means the body is rejecting the serum. And when aging returns, it doesn't come back quietly- it comes with vengeance. Accelerated. Aggressive. All my dead colleagues can attest to that.

I sigh, watching the family walk off, perhaps on their way to celebrate the son's win, and the parents' first day of immortality. Or the illusion of it.

I stare at the lawsuit one last time before sliding it away.

"You deserve the win, kid. I'm sorry."