Chronicles From The Future: The amazing story of Paul Amadeus Dienach

For the rest of my life—no matter how long that will be—the memory of her that night, the last time I ever saw her alive, standing in front of me, will always be fresh and vivid in my mind. She wasn’t sad. On the contrary, she was full of optimism. She was laughing. I couldn’t stop gazing at her. We were on “our” hill. I pressed my lips against her hair. Around us, only blossoming windflowers.

“Enough for today... Let’s go back... I have to be home early,” she said. “Next time we’re here I’ll make a wreath of windflowers. Will you place it on my head?”

“Promise me that I will see you again; that they’re not going to bend you.”

“We will come here again,” she promised, “I swear to you that we’ll come back.” December 6th, 1918

The damned pains never go away... The physicians ordered me to rest. What was I saying? Oh yes! One day my mother asked me to go on a trip. It took me a while to figure out why. It was the period when Anna was supposed to be married. Do not blame her…

Anna died two years after the wedding. She had started losing weight. Her husband said that neither would she listen to anyone nor was she cautious about her health. The physicians had told them that she shouldn’t get with child. She died before she could nurse her infant…

When I came back from the trip, I became a recluse for a year without any contact with anyone. My hair and beard had grown down to my chest. The only company I wanted was that of Amelia. Anna was ill, but still alive then. One afternoon in 1909 I heard a knock at the door.

“Open up! It’s me. Amelia!”

I ran downstairs and hardly gave her a second to catch her breath.

“What happened? Is she dead? Tell me!” I asked as I shook her. Her eyes were red.

“Listen to me! You have to come with me right now. She wants to see you.”

Amelia told me Anna had been asking for me, especially at night-time. And she kept saying she wanted windflowers. But only today did her husband allow Amelia to tell me. Today, because the physicians said the end was very near. He wasn’t at home. He had purposely left so that we would not cross paths.

The first thought that came to my mind was that I hadn’t seen Anna even once since her wedding. I could think of nothing else. We waited till nightfall. Their house was one of the finest mansions in the state. Amelia and I entered and went straight to her room. Anna was sitting up in her bed. Only sweetness had remained in her otherwise withered face. She was dressed in a silk robe and had arranged her long locks in her favourite hairstyle. The first word she uttered was my name. She smiled, expressing as much happiness as her face could still express. She stretched out her hand. I took it in mine and started kissing it.

“You came, Paul! You came! I’m so glad you came! It’s good to see you one last time, now that the end is near… And since my husband allowed it…”

I knelt down beside her bed and asked her to stop. I told her she would recover and everything would be fine. She kept pulling my hand towards her pale face and lips and sighing as if relieved.

“The last time you saw her,” said Amelia, “when she swore she would come back, she really believed she could…” Anna nodded in agreement. “But then, she took a turn for the worse and she couldn’t. That’s been a burden on her soul since then and so she asks you to forgive her…”

I forgave her with all my heart. I kissed her hair just like I used to and suddenly her face lit up with pleasure.

We let her rest for quite a while and then she told me, “When I’m gone, I want you to visit our hill once in a while. The trees and grass might have something to share with you. Do not forget me. If you stay true to our love and don’t forsake me, I’ll never abandon you. I’ll be right by your side, Paul… By your side and my child’s. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there…”

I escorted Amelia to her house and then went back to mine at midnight, overwhelmed by a strange mixture of pain and happiness. “What is this?” I wondered, “Why do I feel so confident that I will see her again?”

On Wednesday night I saw her. On Sunday she was dead. January 17th, 1919

This morning, at 8:40, was the two-year anniversary of my revival. It was at that time that I opened my eyes and was myself again. I remember it was snowing. My mother was on the floor next to me, crying tears of joy. “What happened?” I asked her. I received my answer from our family physician: “Well, it was about time you woke up! You’ve broken every record!”

Apparently it was some kind of lethargy. I had been asleep for a fortnight.

The physician, wearing a fancy tie, was trying to cheer me up. Not only did he not succeed but, instead of a smile, a grotesque grin spread over his face.

As the months went by, I began to feel better. I took heart. In the end, man can get used to anything…

“Now that you are familiar with my case,” I told the physician once, “I don’t need to fear being buried alive…” January 23rd, 1919