You live in a world where by the time you turn 18 you must decide when , where , and how you will someday die . Your 18th birthday is coming up tomorrow and you still have n't decided yet . [ WP ]

I always hated my birthday. I did n't like being the center of attention, and I did n't like the feeling I had when i had to find gifts for others. it was only natural I would n't like putting someone else in that same situation. This birthday was especially terrible. This was the birthday we presented our Finality Requests to our Life Counselors, This was the birthday we decided how we would die. 
 
 Mind you, not all requests are granted as requested. Most people, in fact, had to place in more than three requests, about a quarter of people wound up placing close to a dozen before they would be granted approval. Having a lot of friends with older siblings I knew a lot of my friends would want to know what my request was. A lot of people would frame their approvals and hang them on the wall, like a degree or certification. Others had them printed on special paper and kept them in their basement in a fireproof vault. Others yet hired attorneys to draft their requests for them. I did n't want mine approved until after graduation, so I placed as ridiculous a request as i could imagine. 
 
 On my eighteenth birthday, the day I finally went to the Finality Requests Office at the Life Counselor Department, I had my draft ready, looking at it made me laugh. I drew my number and waited patiently in the office. There were a dozen other people there. There was a girl crying into a sweatshirt, a jock biting his nails, and a pair of twins leaning against each other. When my turn came eventually, The attendant behind the counter glanced at my form and without saying a word shot me a glance that said `` Oh, Really?'' and with an eye roll she put the form in a pneumatic tube that shot the form up and away with a satisfying Ka-thwoohp. In almost no time at all something came back down the tube with an assertive Ka-chunk. The attendant looked surprised, This was n't normal. `` Congratulations,'' she said laughing, `` you might want to pick up some tin foil on the way home old man!'' 
 
 Apparently I was going to die in orbit of Saturn, acting as emissary for mankind, making first official contact with an alien intelligence in over a hundred years from now.
