November 24, 2012
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La Plante De Vie (Fiction)
Life used to be easy, life was fun, things were simpler, everything made sense before I took that first bite of immortality. No, I'm not a vampire or a werewolf--and I'm not a zombie...
Two hundred years ago I was hiking through the Congo, a team of scientists and myself were out in the jungle looking for a plant, a plant that was said to be seen but, never proven. This plant was called La Plante De Vie, "The Plant Of Life"--three leaves to a thick black stem, medium sized, shiny green with purple stripes--a myth, we were attempting to prove to the world that it existed--it grew a foot off the ground and it was said to be gorgeous. It was said that the Pygmies used this plant in a ritual that celebrated longevity. To live forever is to be one with the spirits. We were told that the plant was on the southern most point of the Congo, it was a long trek, a couple of us became ill with malaria and heat exhaustion by the time we got to the said destination. We had two Pygmy guides taking the six of us on our quest. The guides thought we were funny, they laughed openly at us and how out of shape we all were. Growing up in this climate helps with adapting to such extreme weather conditions, and they are used to the dense and damp, bug, serpent, wildlife and tree filled ecosystem. They were a part of this ecosystem--we were just visitors and it was bound to kill us eventually.
We trolled through this sea of jungle and we didn't find any sign of this treasured plant. We looked for hours and we all became sick and tired. I felt faint and dizzy, I knew I was doomed. Eventually I was the only one out of three still conscious. It took us days to get to where we wanted to be and we were there--there to die, so it seemed. Our guides deemed us doomed and I guess they felt they couldn't do anything else to help, so they abandoned us. I was lost and dying. The other remaining scientists collapsed like the others before them and never woke up again. I was wandering around the Congo and after a while of aimless stumbling, I collapsed. I fell into a bushy patch of plants, pain--as if I was scratched by an angry cat with long, sharp nails--went from every inch of my body, flowed to my brain, my brain read that pain and triggered a reaction--I winced, my mouth opened automatically and I made a shallow sounding yelp. But, something else happened. I felt warmth around the places where my shirt was ripped from those dagger-like scratches, I no longer felt pain, I felt a tingling, then my dizziness went away and I felt strangely refreshed. I slowly got up to my knees to observe what I fell into. It was the plant. I fell into "The Plant Of Life". A big patch surrounded me, I couldn't believe what I was seeing, it was true, they were beautiful.
even though I felt better, I felt weak and I wouldn't have been able to find my way back to civilization, I would have died not even halfway back. So I did what any smart man would do. I was hungry, I ate at least thirty leaves before I started to get full. They didn't taste bad at all and they went down easy. After I was finished eating I felt a warm feeling come over me and then I was up on my feet, with energy I haven't felt since I was eighteen. It was time for me to make my trek back to civilization, but, not without taking a couple of leaves as samples.
I followed the old map we had along with the guides, we brought it just in case the guides decided to ditch us (they did). I walked all the way out of this jungle and back into the world I knew, I took a boat back to America, and that feeling of restored youth didn't leave me once. I didn't even get tired, nor did I break a sweat, no anxiety, no obstacle could hold me back. I was a new man, I was immortal. There was a lot of responsibility to being immortal though. Two hundred years ago up until present time I found and find myself moving a lot. I would have definitely been branded witch, demon, or whatever else one would label someone who doesn't age, back in the era I was supposed to live out my days in--good or bad it wouldn't matter, the attention needed to be avoided. The only people that stayed with me were my wife and kids. They new the story about the plant and they believed me after a while, it was hard not too when you grow old and you witness your husband or father not aging in the least. And when they died, I grieved more than any other husband and father could; they were gone forever and I will live forever thinking about them. I did try to introduce this plant to the other scientists, I tried to bring the plant into the rest of the world but, the phenomenon was voted to be better off a secret. I understood. The gift of living forever contained in roughage: the violence, the crimes, the ruckus this plant would bring if it were introduced to the public--even the feuds among scientists across the world--was just not worth it.
So I'm the only one with this blessing/curse, well, from what I know, I get to live a longer life than everyone else and their generations to come, I get to witness people I've grown to know die, I have to keep my secret, this secret eating at me--I just want to talk about it, I want people to know, I want a mate again, I want friends again, I want people to live forever with me. It won't happen. I'll be alive until the world ends. I think about how painful it might be burning in the flames earth will be engulfed in when it catches on fire and dies. Will it be a tidal wave? What does it feel like to drown, or will I die instantly? I survived the Civil War, I survived World War 1, I survived World War 2, I survived Korea, and I survived Vietnam--I've seen so much horror in my life, I've seen so much death but, I don't get tired, I don't get sick, I live strong and long. Drugs and alcohol did nothing but make my mind hurt, I stayed as healthy as I was before the drugs, when I did them. I've had so many different names and last names--needing to change them so I can't be tracked, and when I was tracked and my identity was in question I ran. I ran far and stayed there. I've been everywhere around the world. There's nothing you can tell me that I haven't seen, heard or learned.
I could go on and on with what it's like to live forever but, I don't want you to be as bored as I am, and chances are you won't survive long enough to hear all the tales, experiences, and feelings I have had through out my life anyway.
The plant that gave me immortality didn't taste bad, but, I still haven't been able to shake its aftertaste....
Picture Source: http://www.mediafreedominternational.org/2011/04/04/dangerous-plans-to-exploit-the-congo-river-surface-outside-of-africa/
Comments (8)
@sleekpunk -
... Thank you for reading.
You make some very excellent points about living forever, like the one about us mere mortals dying before hearing all the tales.
@Xcite_Media - Aww thank you... <3
I truly enjoy reading this as I did with all your poems and fiction. You are an amazing writer.
@PinkHoneysuckle -
... Thank you for sharing your experience with me... Have a great Thanksgiving.
Hello,
I read your fiction, and found it to be compeling, for over and throughout the search man has had for eternity; Water is always used in some way or the other. I think that is a great reason as to why I tend to drift to fiction or non fiction, for there is something so pure and calming about going in to what sustains us; Pure water and the rivers which are most unsettled are something we all relate to. It is the cause of the earth's ability to feed itself and to build softly our course for all that is majestical and unseen; And to those of us who kept going for higher education -- at one point or the other we were going to be writing a story about our water quest, and in it the quest for something everlasting.
About the reviews, my good friend, mine should be there, and I think you may have to approach friends, for unless they know you very well; I can tell you that people are usually not reliable in helping you out with this on a social network like Xanga. For the fex Xangans who contributed, and you know who you are and say thank you again and again to the ones who will take this role. I would tell you to find a paid reviewer, but my experience with that has been a huge generational difference now, and a little King or Queen of semi colons. You want a reader, a known person, and not a college graduate who has a new job.
I wish I could make it all so easy for you, my friend, but I have been endeavoring to get some warnings out here that if one self publishes, we are at the mercy of our paid publishers, and in the end, coming down to a central issue; that no one is even going to let you in slow, anxious world. I advise a mature friend of yours to now follow me Claretz; For beating your head against the wall, you just pray for what will not come without some help. I send prayers of a, "Happy Thanksgiving." As I may have mentioned to you, not one day goes by when I do not make myself to what appears to be the futile task of finding mentors and people who will help.
I told you though that people who made it a few years ago in writing are apt to be holding their own turf right now, for even with great resumes'; They are finding it is a dirty and thankless job.
Take care, and enjoy that feeling you first had when you had to realize that it is a joyful name to see your name in print..Just enjoy that feeling for now. Aren't you proud of your self?
I feel like ... low entering this realm intoxicated, I will read when sober.
my time is up at the library..i must leave my reading..it was good so far..thanks for the read..
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