Lionhearts

Alice Clare 1

My name is Alice and I have been alive for a little over 460 years now.

That's a good way to sum up me, right? Ha! Who am I kidding. If anything, that little factoid would make people think I'm mad, insane! But how else do I describe myself? Sure, you could go with the physical features but that's the easy way. What I mean is, if you've seen me for these past 460 years you would see me change. But what else do you expect from me? I change as generations change. My emotions are this roller coaster and I'm unstable. If I'm going to dive that deep this early, I might as well summarize my long lived life.

I was born on June 23, 1555, a little bit before the Elizabethan Era. My family was wealthy. My father was a sweet hearted man. He always smelled of parchment and ink. The scent still remains on the tip of my nose. I'm sure he was ruthless during his business but he never let it show when he hugged me tight. My mother was quite. She was very beautiful with curly brown hair and deep brown eyes but she said little. I was told I had a brother named John but he had died of the Plague. I was my parents living child and I think that's why the held on to me so tight. Kind of funny, right? I certainly am their surviving child. As I grew up, Queen Elizabeth ruled well. Many were happy.

I was 20 when it all happened. Unlike most girls at my age, I wasn't married. Many men asked for my hand in marriage. Maybe it was because of money, maybe it was because they actually liked me, either way my father didn't let them. I wasn't sure if I was grateful or mad. One day, both of my parents went out, probably enjoying some local theatrical performance while they left me with an empty house and our servants.

Eventually, I wondered out into the courtyard, admiring the flowers and enjoying the sunny weather. The sun only came out once in awhile here in London and I took advantage of it. After I was done sniffing flowers and all of that goody-dream stuff, I just laid there on the grass. The green and healthy grass that held me, pulled me into a sleep. I don't know what drove me to do this but my eyes closed against my will. Once I opened them again, I awoke to see one of the recent man who asked my father to marry me. I didn't know him that well but I knew he just wanted money. Arthur was his name.

Arthur stood over, his hair a mess and his smile evil and crooked. His eyes were dropping and when he spoke it was clear to me he had been drinking. How he got in the courtyard is a mystery. "Get up, whore," he spat and pulled me by the collar of my dress. He brought me to my feet.

"What does thou want?" I asked calmly as his grip remained.

"I want thou," he whispered, "I want thy chinks and thy beauty."

At this point I was scared. I knew what happened to weak women pinned by a drunk man. I looked around for any servant or gardener. "Arthur, calm down and think for a moment. Doth not make any rash decisions," I said, trying to remain calm and keep my breathing even. He smiled, his teeth were rotting and one tooth was missing.

"I hast thought about this for a long time and -" before he could tell me his ridiculous thoughts, I kneed him in the groin. He fell to his knees, holding his injured area. He let me go and I started to run. However I was stopped by a bullet that lodged into my back. Pain seared and I laid in the grass once again, feeling heavy. I wasn't sure if I was screaming or not. I felt a my blood, drip out of my back. As I lay on the ground on my stomach, foot steps walked toward me cussing with every step. My heart raced but I could feel myself slowing. My eyes closed and I heard him call me nasty names. I was sleepy, tired and soon I saw darkness. I felt coldness. I felt nothing.

My eyes shot open and I gasped while sitting up. I felt air go through my lungs, my heart beat, and blood flow through my lungs. Was I dead? Where was Arthur? How was I alive? That night I looked in the mirror to where the bullet was suppose to be but there wasn't a mark. The next day, Arthur's friends found him hanging by a rope. He must have thought I was dead.

Time went on, my mother and father died, leaving me sad and lonely. Thirty years passed by and I didn't age, stirring up conversation by the townspeople. There were rumors I was a witch, a goddess, even a demon. Another year passed and there was not a wrinkle on my face. The townspeople were done with me and showed up at my door, tied me up, and brought me to a post with piles of wood stacked around it. They were to burn me at the steak. It all happened so fast, there were chants and torches and whispering and me, terrified. I waited for someone to testify for me. No one stepped up. Fire soon blazed and my flesh was burning. It hurt. That's all I can tell you because you wouldn't want to know the details. But after awhile I didn't feel anything. I never was killed. The fire kept going by the ropes that tied me to the pole were burned away and I walked through the huge bonfire. Everyone who was there to watch me die stared in disbelief as I walked out of that horrible fire without a burn on me. They were to scared to do anything.

Those were dark times for me, I had to move and leave home. After grabbing my savings, I went to a smaller town, staying in the house and not getting close to anyone. The process made me depressed, I tried so many times but I couldn't die. Some of my attempts were suicide, some were experimental but no matter what, I still lived. This is what my life has been for a long time now. Moving, staying in the house, and not getting close. Those were my rules.

About two hundred years passed. Big grudge, I know. I only went out on the sunny days to get groceries which wasn't often. Even if it rained forty days I could live without food. I can't die from starvation either, by the way. But I had been to just about every place in England and there was nowhere else to go. Except for America. So, I took my money and the first boat there and started a new life once again. This time, I let go of my rules. I went out more, saw America, how it was expanding, new presidents. I was there for it all. I was there when they brought slaves over and I was disgusted. I refused to go south. I was there during the civil war, being a nurse, seeing awful things. I healed many and many people but I never got close to the soldiers I attended to because that was the one rule I held close. Don't get close. But, like I said, I did cure many of them, and abnormal amount. Soon enough it was the 1900s and World War I came and brought death to many families. I was a nurse then, too. They didn't ask about how old I was even if I looked young they needed people. Then World War II came and I was a nurse once again. So many people died but I didn't know one person. My morals always got in the way of friends. But if I didn't have my rule, I would just get hurt. Watch them grow old and me stay alive forever. Then the 70s and 80s and bright colors. I went hippy for awhile, I'm not going to lie.

Now it is present day and I sit in a college class that I snuck into. I always do this, learning about something, anything. I have heard a lot of this before but some professors make good points. Except for history because the professors always get it wrong. Today it was an English class. Many kids took notes, others were dying of boredom, I just listened. One guy, a dark haired, broad shouldered boy sat a couple rows in front of me. He was somewhat paying attention. There was a redheaded girl, who was practically asleep. I saw one other boy that caught my eye with blonde hair who scribbled notes down. It would be nice to have someone to talk to, but that would be disobeying my number 1 rule. And I planned not to break it.