I M M O R T A L

C H A P T E R 1

It's weird to see a flower grow.

One day, you're planting it.

Next thing you know, its blooming; big and beautiful, demanding attention.

It's even weirder, you know, watching a tree grow.

How it goes from being nothing but a tiny little sapling to an enormous, beautiful, towering force.

What's even weirder, is being able to remember planting it, remember how it grew, how it changed, being able to remember each winter when it was barren of leaves, and each summer when it would come back in full bloom. It's weird being able to watch the different families of animals moving in and out of the tree, and the new couples finding love under the whispering branches while you don't seem to be able to change at all.

All you're able to do is watch the ever changing world around you, while remaining the same each day, each month, each year. Your hair grows longer, you lose weight and you gain weight, but the facts remain the same; the age lines never come. The wrinkles being etched into your skin by Time is non-existent and it feels as though you've been forgotten, left behind, abandoned.

It gets lonely, being left behind, being abandoned; it's the worst feeling ever to have to watch life pass you by at such an alarming speed and knowing that there is no way to stop it. All you can do is attempt to move forward, but Time eventually takes it toll on you. It eventually catches up to you. And that doesn't always necessarily mean physically. It catches up mentally, emotionally, and it takes back what its owed for allowing you to live for such a mind numbingly long period of time.

I've had the privilege of watching everything and everyone I've ever cared about return to the earth as nothing but dust.

I've had the privilege of watching beautiful landscapes be turned into huge, towering cities and huge cities pummelled into nothing but a dusty wasteland.

I've walked this earth for eons, and my body has not aged a day.

I knew I was different when I was born. This was centuries ago, so long ago that it seems like nothing but a dream. But I know well enough that I don't dream. I lost the privilege of dreaming centuries ago along with my wonderment and curiosity of the world.

All I've experienced since then is the cold, harsh reality of humanity and what it means to lack the most important thing a human could ask for; mortality. And even if they don't realise it, death is a gift that should be appreciated because hell is real, and what I have been granted is an eternity of hell.

I knew I was different, but i just couldn't understand why. I still don't understand why. I first realised that I was different when I turned 30 years old and everyone celebrated my birthday.

It was like I was looking at everyone through new eyes.

They all had aged.

My parents were older, they were wrinkled, their hair was greying. My friends had children, they were beginning to age as well, gain weight, lose weight. And, my husband, his smile was more crooked, his beard thicker, the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced.

And yet, I still looked like an 18 year old.

At first, people just thought I had aged well. Hell, even I thought i had aged well. That is, until I hit 40 years old and my children were becoming teenagers, my husband's hair now greying and my parents now ghosts of who they once were with their sagging skin and grey hair. And there I was, looking as if I hadn't aged a day since I turned 18.

By the time I hit 50 years, everyone knew about me; the freak of the village. They thought I was a witch, that I ate little children to keep myself looking this young. But my husband knew that this wasn't the case, and he loved me despite my differences.

But I was stupid to think that I could depend on that love to keep me together.

I watched my parents die.

I watched my friends die, one by one.

I watched my husband go.

And then, I had to watch my children die.

I watched them all go.

And, I still didn't look a day over 18.

My name - it means everlasting. And there couldn't be a name more appropriate and more literal than the one I was given.

Hi, my name is Aiyana and I'm an immortal.

This is my story.