Ages Hense

The rain came down in sheets outside my window. What a cliche line but it was true. The way it moved back and forth in stagnant lines reminded me of the newspaper reels from the 30's and 40's.
This isn't the 30's and 40's anymore though.
This isn't even the same century.
God, how long have I been alive?
A human life seems so frail without technology and I've watched so many pass because they didn't know about the one simple advancement only I possess. I must have been through at least five or six identities so far just trying to protect it.
In any case, you'd have no idea about that. Even now, in 2145... yes... that's it; I've been alive for two hundred and sixteen years.
Seeing how you haven't left the room yet, do you have time for a story? Of course you do, I just answered my own question, didn't I?
Well, it seems that the absence of the process for the past 20 years has made my mind a little weak. Now I shall try my best, but I feel as though this may be my last transcript to you, so listen closely and as you write, remember that no one but you can know this story; I have seen what it does to people and you don't want to be in that world:

The year I was born was nineteen hundred and twenty nine. The stock market had just crashed on the day my mother gave birth to me. My father was protected only because he had been doing projects in our basement for foreign governments and getting the pay put into those same foreign banks. We were United States citizens for the purpose of a good home in the land of opportunity but aside from our middle class facade in a country that had just upped its population of poor people, we were quite average.
My father was a genetic engineer before people had any idea what that meant.
Throughout the 30's and 40's my parents moved around a lot. Much of the reason was projects that he was working on for the United States government, and then selling to the Swiss, or other countries that took the vow of neutrality in any war, on the side.
His work focused mainly on youth and how to stay young, forever. He did not see any problem with this because his work was focused around regenerating body parts and tissues.
As a side note: if my father could see me now, he'd be very disappointed.
He always told me, "Son, all human beings strive for eternal youth, and it is ok to die feeling and looking young but the key to playing god is the brain. This is the one organ we do not even research to be regenerated. It is not possible and therefore no one is god, but god alone."
In 1935, my father moved with my mother and me to Chicago. It seemed as though people had been making threats on hurting my mother and or me if he didn't begin research on a recipe for the regeneration of the brain.
He told no one where he was going, not even my mother or me; One day, we just left.
When we got to Chicago, that was where the basement research got elevated. Government officials were contacted and he told them he would do no more research on regeneration, so being a scientist, mathematician, physicist, biologist and every other form of researcher you could think of, they started him working on a project called Manhattan in Chicago; isn't that a riot?
I wouldn't know it until later but one of the stipulations of him working on this new project was that he be allowed privacy and absolute security. Surveillance back then wasn't what it is now, I assure you of that and you'd know if there was a flower delivery service in front of your house for 5 days straight.
The bathroom was to the left of the kitchen and unless you knew the tile to remove, it was no more or less: an ordinary bathroom. The tiles on the wall were blue and they created a solid strip around the center of the walls, above that, the walls were a teal color and below that were white panels. Anyone going in there would be surprised by it's loveliness and cleanliness right down to its comfortable, cushion fitted, porcelain throne.
Within its walls, however, was the most state of the art laberatory ever made. My father built it himself and he told me that we would never move because if we did, we'd have to blow up the house to conceal his research.
Evidently, he wasn't lying.
It was 1939-1945 that I worked for the Chicago Tribune and listened to the newspaper reels churning out new news each morning. I only got to listen for a few hours before they opened up the doors and sent me off with a fresh bundle but the sound was so intoxicating it almost put me to sleep before the day even began.
On August 6th, 1945, we all found out about the First atomic bomb being released on the island of Japan. 10 days later, dad moved us to Venice Beach California, in the middle of the night, and blew up our house in Chicago. I read about it in the paper a few days after we arrived. The only thing was, it said all inhabitants had been killed.
I felt very much alive.
My father wasn't like other men. Many of my friends got to go for a drink when they turned 18 but instead, I got a far better gift: my father brought me down to his laboratory. We began to do projects together and I watched my father regenerate body parts of his so he'd look younger, even though his brain was 50 years old by 1950.
It infuriated me in secret because I could tell he was getting old even though his body looked almost as young as mine did. My mother did as well and because of his technology they were healthy and fit in every area except the brain, which was, for all intensive purposes, older.
In 1979, I reached my half a century mark. My father was 79 and though his body looked young, he must have seemed like the most cranky, forgetful, and almost naiive young man to those who didn't know that he had been giving himself youth treatments since he was actually a young man. I had better things to do with my time and in June of that year, I perfected it.
I came running into the office where my dad worked and began to tell him about my perfection of the brain rejouvination as he slept. I appologized numerous times for not telling him that I had been working on this research for a long time but he gave no response.
The coroners had put the cause of death as aneurysm in their report. The old-young man had simply thought too much and made his brain bleed. My mother died in 1980 of the same thing. This wasn't going to happen to me.
I began treatments on my brain rejuvenation process immediately and I had the quickness of thought and the looks of a 29 year old. Year after year I fixed my brain until I have gathered the knowledge of two centuries.
I never thought to have kids until I met your mother and age wasn't even the thing that took her. Some things in this world, are abrupt and simultaneous and god gets more vicious the more years you steal from him. You can check all the drawers in my desk, you won't find the recipe. I've destroyed the lab and all the documents were in that lab. I have lived young for too many years and I find I would have been happier dying young as well.
In my older, young age, I have to say it's almost a blessing to be getting old. Life gets boring after a while you know.