Time Keeps Passing

Here We Go Again

She (our main character) shambled around her kitchen, still affected by the funeral from earlier that day. She made a simple lunch, consisting of a creamy peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a small bag of goldfish and some apple slices. She slowly ate her lunch while reading a book on her phone. The book she was reading was one of her favorites, but someone watching could tell that she'd rather just focus on eating. Anyone that knew her would expect to find music playing and find her drawing or painting for some contest or to sell. Right now, however, none of that would be seen. Eventually, she turned off her phone and continued eating. When she went back to her food, she no longer did it at the slow pace she was doing it before. She was suddenly eating quickly, almost just swallowing each  bite without chewing. When finished, she went to the kitchen and cleaned her plate and threw away her trash, now at a normal pace. Then, as quick as she could, she walked over to her computer. Before she had sat down, you could still see the effects of being at a loved one's funeral. But, once she sat down, it all seemed to fade away, and all you could see was her focus on what she was doing. She brought up a word document on her computer, and opened up a drawer. She took out a small flip notebook, full of writing and post-it notes. 

This is her true life.

She has been alive for around four centuries (since the 1700's), and has been taking notes on everything that has happened, mostly major events. She tries to travel to every country where something extremely major is happening, and sometimes ends up in a few herself. Though, if someone were to look in a history book and find a picture with her in it, they wouldn't be able to recognize her now. They wouldn't be able to link her to any other picture either. They'd only know her as who she was in the time period that she was recorded in. She has her times of being very popular and being barely known. Currently, she's a well known painter that has done many different kinds of art, but mostly known for her paintings of nature. In another time, she was one of the people in the Titanic.

Her she is now, typing everything from her notepad into a computer, waiting to be sent to the email address she was given when it became a thing. Before, it was by a letter. That was fun. She doesn't know who it's going to, only that it's going to the right place. Though, she can't help but wonder who is still around to get information from the human history book.

As she types on her computer, she glances from time to time at a glass and syringe laying on her desk. The glass holds red liquid, the syringe holds blue. These are key things that affect her immortal state. She'll get refills for those as well. She's only gotten refills for the glass so far, since refills for the syringe wouldn't be necessary and she has only used the glass.

She finishes typing all that she needed to, writes the email, and sends it off. She then gets rid of the evidence of that email and the document she wrote. She then turned her swivel chair around to face the glass and syringe, pushing back her brown hair as she did so. She then stood up and loomed over them, glancing at each one periodically. She saw a notification pop up on the screen. An email had been sent back. She sighed, expecting this, and stood over the computer. The email read as this:

Thank you for your work. This will be very helpful for all future generations to get a true understanding of their past. If you wish to continue doing this, I have a page attached that will give you the details you need for moving on. If you choose not to, I hope you enjoyed it all.

Thank you for all your hard work!

She sighed as she clicked on the page, curious as to what the details were this time. She looked through the list, containing details of a person.

"Blond, short hair, slightly wavy... short wavy hair, that's cool." she read and commented aloud, trying to hold in the thoughts that would stop her from continuing as she was. She contemplated sitting down, but chose against it. "Nature and animal lover. Loves to debate about taking care of the environment and advertising it. 'Gay hippie.' Ha. That's a very direct description." She laughed at this. She had always wondered why the current guy she was sending stuff to and getting stuff from was always so straight forward and business like. She scrolled down to where the name was, looked at it for a minute, and smiled. "Helen. That's a cute name." She smiled a little longer, then went to a blank expression. 

She couldn't hold out any longer. 

She got rid of the evidence of that email, then clicked to compose an email. Suddenly, she went back into how she was when she got home. She blinked a few times, seemingly confused. She saw the "compose an email" thing on her screen, which was going to be sent to her daughter. She wrote that she wasn't feeling very well and wanted her and her brother to come over.  She sent the email, then loomed over the glass and syringe. She reached out for the glass, then suddenly retracted it back. She sighed as she reached for  it again and picked it up. She walked over into her bedroom and sat on the bed, so it wouldn't hurt when the process finished. She looked at the cup for about two minutes before saying:

"Here we go again."