Forever Young

Screw up

I know the government is hiding something from the rest of society. This something might possibly be the antidote; the cure for eternity.

I've already developed a plan. I'm going to begin my career at the national science center. By taking a job as a scientist, I will have multiple opportunities to snoop around. Although I hate science, I must take the job for the world's sake. Besides, I'm actually decent at science. I just don't like the idea of science ruining everybody's chance to live. Death is only the beginning, and with the elixir, everybody hasn't even started to live. Instead of living forever, it's almost like everybody has died young. Since society has forever to live, nobody cares about time, life, family, and even love.

As for me, I only have a numerous amount of years left to live compared to everybody else. My life span is uncertain, but that's what makes life mysterious. Nothing is new when you live forever. As absurd as it sounds, I look forward to death. Death is something I'm not afraid of.

I have nothing to worry about, for now. I'm only 24, which means, at the moment, my aging will not be noticed. Hopefully, before I grow old, I will be able to find the cure for eternity.

I'm at home, getting ready for my first day as a scientist. I twist my hair up into a bun, making sure my hair looks professional. I don't want to look like Albert Einstein. I don't have anything against him, but his personal hygiene was very poor. My goal for today is to not screw up. Getting fired or thrown into jail will ruin everything.

I stare at my reflection while applying a little bit of make up. Now that my face looks less shabby, I slip on my white lab coat and grab my keys, heading towards the car.

I thought scientists wearing white lab coats was a stereotype; I guess I was wrong.

I arrive to the dome shaped building within minutes. As soon as I stepped foot inside the facility, I was quickly greeted by a tall boy with black rimmed glasses. His eyes are brown, cheeks blood red, and his brunette hair is sticking out in every direction. He looked around my age, maybe a little bit older. His greeting wasn't friendly at all, in fact, it was bitter.

"You must be Miss Swift," he says, sending me daggers with his eyes.

"You can call me Taylor. Mr...." I'm trying to find a name tag on his jacket, but I don't see one.

"Dr. Evans. Follow me, Miss Swift." I refrain from rolling my eyes, even though he is being extremely rude.

Dr. Evans shows me the different laboratories, his office, testing laboratory, and the central control room. Apparently, the central control room is off limits to the majority of scientists. I don't need to ask questions to understand the importance of the room. I need to somehow get inside of the room.

"What's down that hallway?" I ask, pointing to the dark, narrow hallway beside of the central control room.

"Don't ever step foot into that hallway! Do you understand?" I rapidly nod my head. "Good. Follow me, and I will show you your lab station."

I follow Dr. Rat Hair into a storage room. It isn't a small storage room; it actually was gigantic.

"Excuse me, why are we in a storage room?"

"This is where you will be working until you prove you're worthy enough to be a scientist here."

"Worthy enough? This wasn't in the job description." I'm beyond angry; I'm furious.

"You are my personal assistant until I promote you into a higher position."

"Personal Assistant?"

"Indeed," he chuckles. "The beakers in that box need to be cleaned," he says. He points to a shelf holding a box. I assume it's the box with the beakers inside. "Once they are clean, drop them off in my office," He throws me the keys to his office, and walks out of the storage room without another word.

I inwardly groan at the amount of beakers I have to clean. I grab a pair of gloves from my pocket, since they don't supply gloves anymore, and slide the gloves onto my hands. I don't want to get a skin eating chemical on my hands.

I wash the first beaker with ease.

This is going to be easy, I think to myself.

Suddenly, I drop the beaker, and it crashes on to the floor. I kneel down to pick the broken beaker, but a shard of glass rips through the skin of my hand, causing blood to gush out of the wound like a faucet. Maybe I'm being over dramatic, but I can not let anybody see my bloody hand. I quickly rush out of the storage room and head for my car.

Once I arrived, I search for a first aid kit. I have around fifteen first aid kits hidden in my car. Band aids, first aid kits and medicine are no longer sold in any stores anymore ever since the elixir.

I find a first aid kit and place a bandaid onto my cut hand. There is nothing more I can do than wait for it to heal on it's own.

I hear a tap on my door. I hide the first aid kit behind my back and roll down the window.

"It's not break yet Miss Swift," Dr. Evans says. I'm hoping he doesn't notice my hands behind my back; I don't think he does.

"I'll be in a few. I just need some.... Fresh air!" I'm extremely bad at making excuses.

"I guarantee there is more fresh air inside the science center than your car. Please don't slack on your first day, Miss Swift," he says as he walks back inside.

That was a close call.