Forever is Not Enough

Chapter One

Being an immortal is not all it's cracked up to be.

Sure, I have all the time in the world, and because of the treasures I have scrounged up overtime, money is never an issue. But it gets pretty boring.

I've seen pretty much everything. Nothing surprises me anymore.

The last time I felt even remotely interested was when I met that little boy in Germany after the second world war. He was dirt-poor and starving, walking around aimlessly with bloody feet and black soot on his face, alone in the world. The boy wondered how one man could've enacted such devotion from the people while causing death and destruction. He wanted to travel and see the rest of the world, to better understand how it really worked.

Not an easy dream at a time when the Germans were persecuted all over, but he showed a certain sense of freshness and determination that made me think: Maybe he could show me something new.

He wouldn't have been able to do it on his own, so I gave him a nudge in the right direction.

Watching the boy grow into a powerful man gave me something to do. It wasn't the exhilaration I had been searching for, but at least it was amusing.

Until that day when the boy's dream came true, and he grew sick of it all.

He traveled the world once, twice, and after the third time, he'd simply given up. He drowned himself in work, women, and whiskey. He'd seen too much. It wasn't fun anymore.

I understand how he feels. Nothing in this world is fun anymore.

Fortunately, I'm not the kind of person that thinks about my problems too deeply. Some people do that. The more they ponder, the more those problems wrap around their head like a vice, making it hard to move or breathe until all they can do is pray for a reprieve from the pain.

Living for so long has taught me to take it easy. I follow a certain routine of things I enjoy doing. I wake up at seven, exercise at nine, then take a walk around the park where I pick up scattered trash and deposit it in its rightful place. I remember when the Earth was green and pristine. Although I don't hold any grudge against the humans for changing that, I like to think I'm doing something good for the environment.

I'm quite simple to please, if I do say so myself. I believe there's only one key to true enjoyment in life.

Expect nothing, and you won't have to taste the bitter tang of disappointment.

I don't eat, but if I do, organic foods would be it for me. They're healthy, simple to cook, and they all taste basically the same. Unfortunately, those succulent greens in all of their cutely-deformed glory would never find their way into my stomach.

Immortality is an unexpectedly fragile thing. This is why I don't associate much with humans. Touching them, eating their food, and doing things they do are bad for me-not just because of how much salt and calories are packed into their fast food, but because those things could taint me. They drain my immortality from me. I don't want to lose my immortality. It's the same logic that kept the boy from donating all of his hard-earned money and going back to being a poor, unfortunate kid with nothing but dreams to hang on to.

It may be boring, but it's my life. I'm not going to throw away my immortality. Boredom isn't reason enough for something that drastic.

Just like the way surprise and my quick reflexes shouldn't be reason enough for me to jump into action when a human girl keels over in front of me.

When I realize it, my fingers are already curled around her upper arm. It is my first actual contact with a human being since...forever. There's that electrician who visits my house to fix things every now and then, but I don't think he counts.