Literary Workshop: Lesson 2

Here is my next submission for the literary workshop. In this lesson I was supposed to write using a character that I made up. I tried to do something different by writing on the subject of an immortal. I also tried writing in an elegant style. Please let me know if I succeeded. Thanks!

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After centuries of slumber I finally have reason to leave this desolate grave. I am in this burial chamber through my own doing and I have chosen to stay in here, in a self imposed exile. I have no regrets, and I have lived all of my dreams and at this point, all I want to do now is to take a permanent respite from the world of the living.

You see, I am not a vampire but I have lapped up my share of blood. I am no ghost, for I have not experienced death yet. Neither the words “Angel” nor “Demon” shall not be able to define me, for heaven and hell is nothing more than visions of fantasy. I am a man who knows no death. I am an immortal fated to walk earth for the rest of my days.

My name is Jean Luc and I have seen things only a few can imagine. I have lived a thousand lives and would welcome death in any of her many forms. I have seen so many things that the splendor is only surpassed by the sorrow brought about by a life that has seen loved ones die one by one. It has now become an endless saga of life and death. Immortality started out as a gift but has soon turned into a curse.

How have I come to this condition you may ask? I will save that for another day, for that topic bores me. Believe me, when you have lived as long as I have, you have earned the right to only talk about the things that tickle your fancy.

I laid here, in the solace of my sepulcher, waiting patiently for my death for I fear I have seen all that is worth seeing. I have waited so long in this grave the walls are now covered by dark green moss. It used to be a pristine light gray from the concrete, of which it was built, but, now, its covered mold and mildew. This might be a sorry sight for some but, to me, it is no different from the time I have spent dining with kings and queens. It is all futile.

As I lay in the pitch black darkness of this tomb and gasp nothing but stale air, a few drops of rancid water seeps through. No doubt that this is the residual moisture from the summer rains. The bitter nectar does nothing to appease my thirst. Any other rainy night I would lie here quietly and wait but tonight is different. I did not have reason to leave this hell hole until now…