Eternal Youth

[kxrxk.livejournal.com]

wrote this about three years ago for a high school creative writing class from a prompt that I had to use a

She had wanted to be young her entire life, but each year she continued to grow, and continued to die as all normal beings do.  She searched most questionly in her teenage years when her shining orange hair was at its brightest, her blue-green eyes full of wonder.  She searched the hardest in her middle age, the plea in her eyes growing desperate for eternal life, but still she found nothing.  She gave up for awhile, deciding she was going to die, but still not fully accepting the fate.  She kept the window in the back of her mind constantly open, constantly receiving new information and putting pieces together, until, one day, she found a solution.

Mckenzie Adams slowly closed her eyes as she waited for the other passengers to find their seats.  They moved slowly and to her it took too long.  Longer than anyone should take on public transportation.  She pulled her purse close to her, protecting it from the dangers youngsters could bring to it.  Her orange hair had faded to a light brown with only a rusted tinge, and her pale beauty of her youth had been replaced with weathered wrinkles.  Her eyes were tired from her constant search.  The only reminder of her youth was her determination to live.
    When finally the passengers were seated, bags stored, and the tickets were checked, the train blasted its horn and began to slowly chug away from the station.  Mckenzie watched the old buildings disappear.  The trees she had played on as a child, the parks, the houses of friends who had long moved away—some had even passed away.  She closed her eyes again, remembering happy summers, longing for the youth she had never wanted to vanquish.
    When again she opened her eyes she found they were in the country.  Horses frolicked and cows lazily grazed, but they did not interest her.  What interested Mckenzie was what lay in Ronsard.  She grew nervous and impatient.  So long she had waited—too long—and still she must wait, except now it was only for a train that didn’t seem to move fast enough.
    Fall asleep, she urged herself, fall asleep. And sleep she did.
    Mckenzie woke right as the train was pulling into the station in Galloway, a large town near Ronsard.  Mackenzie quickly gathered herself and stood, edging towards the door.  When the train stopped and the doors opened the only people off before her were a couple of hyperactive children.
    Mckenzie scanned the platform; it took her little time to spot the man in the black suit.  She hurried towards him, and without waiting for formalities, the man stepped into the horse drawn carriage.  Mckenzie followed, sitting next to him on wooden seat.  The grey horse snorted, a bit upset over being woken from his nap, as the man picked up the reins and commanded the horse on.  They did not speak the entire ride, which took fairly long. When at last they arrived in Ronsard, night had fallen some time ago.  Mckenzie paid the man and stepped out of the carriage; the man immediately drove away.  
    I must move quickly now, there isn’t much time.  
    There is said to be a magic place in Ronsard, and if you found this magic place at the right time of the right night you could find eternal youth.  It was to this superstition that Mckenzie was consumed with.  She hurriedly started into the forest, as fast as her tired limbs would take her.
    The air was warm and damp, the sky cracked and roared, but Mckenzie was not dettered.  She had to get to find the hidden stream.  Knowing it would be hard to find, she focused all her energy on listening for the sound of water.  A few minutes later she heard a faint trickle.  Mckenzie latched on to the sound and quickened her pace, keeping light on her feet so they wouldn’t make much noise.  A short while later she reached the source.  One last lightning bolt lit up the forest; Mckenzie’s heart fell.  She had only found a sewage drain.
    “Disappointed?”  Mckenzie and her heart jumped and she nearly had a heart attack right then.  “Oh, don’t be scared.”  The lightning had stopped and the forest was completey devoid of light.  Mckenzie squinted, trying to see who was talking to her.  
“Who’s there?”  Her voice trembled, making her sound even older than her 93 years. All she received for an answer was echoed laughter.  There were two people, Mckenzie decided, and from the approaching cracks of twigs and crunching leaves, they were coming towards her. “Stay away—Don’t come closer!” she warned.
The laughter grew deranged; a hand lightly touched her cheek.  A cold breath sent shivers down her spine.  Mckenzie trembled, nearly fainting with fear.  She was going to die, die in the spot where she should have found eternal youth.  A sharp pain pierced her neck, then she felt nothing, and fainted.


Mckenzie woke sometime later in a room foreign to her.  The two people from the night before were talking quietly in the corner.  She could see them clearly now.  The boy was about eighteen and had messy bold hair with black streaks.  The girl was a little older and had golden brown hair.  
    Sensing she had woken, they turned to her. “Rise,” said the girl, “and see the gift I have given you.”
    Mckenzie rose without question. She smiled and stretched; her limbs felt fresh and new.
    The girl came to her.  “Look in the mirror,” she urged.  
    Mckenzie slowly came to the mirror.  Her heart jumped with joy.  Her orange hair was luminous and her skin was pale, smooth.  The face she stared at was only twelve.  She smiled again, laughing this time, two other voices joined hers.  She danced for joy.  “Thank you thank you oh thank you!” Mckenzie cried.  The boy and girl just smiled, and Mckenzie saw but hardly acknowledged the length of their pointed incisors.