Creative+Writing~+Fountain+of+Youth

__** 1. List 5 Positive consequences and 5 Negative consequences. **__ ~ You never have to face the pain of someone you love dying. ~ Amazing scientists or politicians could live forever to discover new things and improve the way we live. ~ You have all the time in world to do what you want to do. For example, if you've always wanted to be a firefighter/author/dentist, you could switch jobs every hundred years or so and have time to try all of them. ~ You will always have knowledge of the past; we would not need to dig up pyramids and things to discover things about the past, because those people would still be alive. ~ The fight to drink from the Fountain of Youth would cause a riot. ~ The world would become incredibly over-populated. ~ There would be a huge shortage of resources, and global warming would become even worse because there would be more factories to accommodate people, and therefor, more greenhouse gasses. ~ There would also be a job shortage. People would not be able to pay for food to support themselves. ~ A war could start over ownership of the fountain. Several countries may claim that they own it, causing fighting. Also, they could try and sell the water to people for money, which might not be good because people might steal money for the fountain out of desperation.
 * Positive Consequences: **
 * Negative Consequences: **

__** 2. Character Development **__

__** 3. Describe the setting. **__ PLACE: A small town in rural Vancouver Island. TIME: My story is set in present day. But in my story, Ponce de León found the fountain in the 16th century (when he originally searched for it) so the whole world is completely different because of that. ATMOSPHERE: The mood in my story is kind of melancholy and anxious- the main character is upset and constantly thinking about the effects of the fountain. At the end, the mood is sorrowful because of her sister's death.

__** 4. What is the main conflict? **__ Woman V.S. Man- the main conflict is that the government is trying to kill all the less important people, basically because the world is too overpopulated and there are food and resource shortages. Also, the water is very important because it caused the conflict in the first place.

__** 5. How does the main character change over the course of the story? **__ She changes emotionally- she has now lost both of her sisters, and is currently more than a little depressed. She also becomes more self assured in her decision to not drink the water, as she has always had a lingering doubt, but now she sees the effects that it has had on the world. __** 6. Describe the use of Irony in your story. **__ It is ironic that Ophelia tried to drown her self, even though she knows how much her sister loves water. It was almost as if she was unconsciously trying to harm her sister that way. It was also ironic at the end when Felicity discovers how humans have been so destructive over the years, that not even the water from the fountain of youth remained pure. The soldiers also had place Felicity's trailer next to the export storage, which is ironic because they are letting her know that they know what she and Persis did. __** 7. What symbols are present in your story? **__ The river near Felicity's town is a symbol for freedom and beauty- it is one of the last segments of river remaining in the world. __** 8. What is the theme of your story? **__ The theme of my story is love and revenge, because Felicity was willing to take human lives to avenge her sisters death.

**PLOT OUTLINE:** The story starts with the main character, Felicity, travelling through her town to visit her best friend Persis who is working as a farmer. There she gets news that the government will be coming to their town- to pick off extra, unimportant people because over the worlds overpopulation. They become angry and steal and ravage lots of the fresh vegetables that were to be exported. Because of this, Felicity's family is on the list of people to die, and so is Persis'. Felicity spends the next 24 hours in anguish inside the trailer with her family. She begins to doubt all the decisions she's made in her life- like her decision to not drink the water from the fountain of youth. She begins to crave the water, but hate even more that it was found by Ponce de León. Felicity becomes angry when Persis, overcome with fear, becomes incredibly compliant and too accepting of her fate. She feels incredibly disappointed when Persis is led out to the fire willingly. When time comes for her 14 year old sister, Ophelia, to be burned, she breaks free and runs for the undeveloped part of the river, hoping to drown herself. As she jumps into the river, she is shot. Felicity is grieving her sisters death, and kills the soldiers who came to the city. After they escape back to their homes, she decides not to revive her sister or her friend with the water, because that's not what they would have wanted. The next day, she sees a newspaper article that the water from the spring of youth has become so dirty with all the pollution, that it does not work anymore and is actually mildly poisonous. The story then ends.

**FINAL DRAFT**

My name is Felicity Castello, and I am a refugee. Not of war, or natural disaster- no, this disaster is anything but natural. The clouds of black smoke blanketing the sky, bits of ash cloaking our fields like snow, the gaunt young faces of those who have lived hundreds of years and are finally at death’s door- it shouldn’t be happening. Not any of it.

I’m supposed to be shelling peas for mother, but instead of enduring that tedium I escape from the kitchen through the window. The day is beautifully, wonderfully rare. Wisps of deep blue streak across the gray, polluted sky. The stifling hot air has cooled slightly, leaving the autumn day warm and pleasant. To escape the aura of menace hanging over the whole town like a temperamental rain cloud, I walk as quickly as I can through the narrow town streets, my bare feet stumbling over the rough stones. No one sees me aside from the occasional little face peering from between thick dark curtains, behind barred windows. As I get deeper and deeper into the city, the alley’s get smaller, and I stumble more and more. The looming buildings go up so high hardly any light makes it through to the dilapidated streets. The tightly packed buildings usually house at least thirty people- it’s the norm for a town with only a million people. Whenever I complain about our various houseguests, mother always raps my hands with her wooden spoon and tells me to hush, we are lucky not to have more. We are really. Our town is one of the smallest still existing, since the discovery of that water- the water that makes everyone young again. In my short sixteen years, I have seen many people die. Not one of them had had so much of a sip of the cursed water. I suddenly burst out into sunlight. A ribbon of soft golden light shoots through the dense clouds. I am out of the main part of town, by now, and into the fields. They span across acres and acres of land- the only non-cultivated land left in the world. A distant hand waves at me, muddy from tilling the heavy earth that we need so desperately to survive now. I approach the hand eagerly, running towards Persis. She sets her hoe aside as I approach her, holding out a bunch of clean, fresh carrots to me. My eyes widen in surprise. “Where’d you get those?” I ask, stretching my hand out to touch such fresh vegetables. “Stole ‘em,” Persis says, crunching down on one of the smaller ones. “From the food barrel- they say it’s for the city people. Important ones, ones who have lived and worked so long they have enough money to buy carrots to last a lifetime. I figured they wont miss a bunch or two…” she says mischievously. I grin widely. “Brilliant!” I almost say more, but I’m too busy crunching down on the carrots. We do have fresh vegetables- occasionally. Like those pea’s I’m supposed to be shelling. Instead of thinking of home and all the annoyances there, I lay back and stare up at the sky, dreaming of another world. One where I would be free to roam around without bumping into a house, where the whole world would be like our fields. All of a sudden Persis hits me on the shoulder. “Ow!” I say, sitting up jerkily. “What’s wrong with you?” “I’ve an idea,” she says, standing up. “Come with me.”

I follow Persis to the back of the field, where a few sparse acres of land are heavily forested. She beckons to me with her finger. “Farmers secret,” she whispers. “Export storage.” I raise my eyebrows in confusion, and twist my long fair hair around my fingers in worry. Persis keeps walking until we’re almost at the undeveloped part of the river, my favourite place in the world. Just before the last bend winding up a rocky slope, she puts her finger to her lips and withdraws a key from her pant pocket. At least, I think it’s a key- it’s oddly shaped with all it’s spikes and protruding bits. It looks more like a weapon. Within seconds, the door in the slope swings open and I stand there in silent awe. The mountain room is stock filled with food- grains, fresh vegetable… “All for the fountain drinkers. It’s allll going to be exported to Florida,” Persis says. “I never would do this alone, but…” she trails off and reaches into a canvas bag of barley, scattering it all around the floor. I think of gasping and protesting, but it’s honestly too much work and it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve stolen something away. I help Persis scatter the grains for what seems like seconds but is really close to an hour- time flies when I destroy things. We go into the cold storage last, disappointed at the amount of rot and mould growing on the food. Persis smirks. “Looks like the boss missed ship-out date,” she says, smiling. We ravage the food anyway, ripping the vegetables and scattering them about like hungry black bears. “That felt good- the fountain drinkers don’t need the food, anyway. They’re immortal. We need the food, not them,” I say giddily, trying to justify what I have just done. “Exactly,” Persis agrees, breathing heavily. As we leave the storage, I think I see a tiny little piece of electronic machinery up on the wall. But I’m not sure. I’m too busy thinking about the wonderful day that awaits outside, and the river just a half minute walk from where I stand.

“Come on, come on in!” I call, basking in the shallow part of the river. This part of the stream is only about 150 meters long, but it twists so much you can’t see where it runs underground. I am in heaven, my lose sheer dress billowing around me like a puffy cloud. “I’ll pass,” Persis says breezily, with a wave of her hand. “I should be getting back soon. I work harder than your father and ten of his friends put together, and I’ll be missed.” “Oh, now you start caring about your job,” I tease. Persis suddenly looks grave. “Well, I may not be at it much longer… what with the list being posted tomorrow and all…” she says. I scull my hands as I float, perfectly calm and tranquil. Persis’s comment breaks the peace a bit. “The list?” I ask. “The list… of families. Of people, unimportant people who are too be-” she trails off. My wonderful serenity is completely shattered now. “To be…? What?” I say frantically. “Killed? How do you know this?” “I shouldn’t know- I, I overheard the foremen talking about it. They didn’t tell anyone lest we try to escape,” she whispers. I almost laugh. Escape to where? Into the next town? Then I have an awful thought. “Persis? The food… what if they find out we did it and we’re the first people on the lis-” “They won’t find out, Fee. Promise,” Persis says. Part of my mind believes her, but part of it returns to that little gadget on the wall of the storage room. I know now I won’t sleep easy tonight.

I wake up- it’s a new day now, I think, in a stuffy trailer. There are no beds, but bodies piled upon bodies, limbs twisting in grotesquely awful positions. For an awful moment I think they’re all dead, until I hear the soft breathing of my sister lying close beside me. Then an even more horrible moment comes upon me, but refuses to end. I realize where I am, what the trailer means- and all I can do is wonder how they’ll kill us.

Water or fire- the two worst possible things they could use to kill me. My love of water would make drowning devastatingly ironic, but fire is my greatest fear in the world. I have a long patch of pale pink going from my earlobe down to my chin, a souvenir of my worst burn. My big sister, age eight, had been stoking the fire one night, and I was watching it’s licking flames with a passion. All of a sudden, Seraphina had wrenched up the poker, surprised at a sudden clatter outside somewhere. The white hot poker had lashed me in the face, and as I was only three, I collapsed sobbing, crying even harder after feeling my new blisters. The fire had just kept flickering, and it seemed almost smug at the mark it had left on me. I hate fire- I really, really, hate it- but I still can’t decide what would be worse, a death by fire or water.

I think I am the only one awake in the trailer. There might be others, somewhere in the bodies piled up a meter high like slabs of meat. I somehow doubt it, the air is thick, heavy; it may even be drugged. I have no clue how I can even think in here, my mind certainly feels foggy enough. Maybe I am going crazy… that reality would be a blissful break from this one.

Perhaps I should have had some of that blasted water. It was offered to our village to make a pilgrimage to Florida to drink the water, and then come back home. Why did I refuse so adamantly? I must have been crazy to refuse. I’m glad I’m not crazy anymore- no, now I’m sane. I must get out of this trailer and drink the water. I must get out and fix every wrong decision I’ve ever made. Looking back on my life in my new state of sanity, I conclude I’m a wreck.

It’s two hours later, and I’m so sluggish and depressed that I would be almost willing to burn to death just to see something other than the grainy wooden walls of the trailer. But perhaps they will just light the whole thing on fire- that would make sense. It will probably take a while for the government to get to us- there has to be over half our city in these trailers. I would guess the one I’m in has about fifty people- there must be tons of trailers. Suddenly, through the dense purplish haze, I hear a familiar cough. “Persis?” I ask. “Heeeyy, Fee,” she replies. “Guess we did make the list, huh?” “Huh? HUH?” I say, suddenly enraged. “You knew- and you pulled me and my family into this the second we left the fields,” I hiss. “Relax, Felicity, you would have been on the list anyway. I just wanted to have some fun in my last moments,” she says. I narrow my eyes- she seems far too comfortable with all of this. “Anyways, you know when the others will be waking up? It’s going to be hell in here when they do- no one can move.” “I know that,” I say through gritted teeth- if Persis is awake, it won’t be long before the others are too. “I’ve been awake all this time, and you may not know it, but my sister is very heavy, and having her on my legs is not all too comfortable.” “Oh,” is all Persis says. As predicted, I hear little coughs from underneath piles of bodies within minutes. Within an hour, the trailer is awake and chaos ensues. Within another hour- the trailer is filled with shrieks and cries as people discover that their loved ones have suffocated- have been buried alive by human flesh. Ophelia is awake now, and doesn’t say anything, bless her, just stares at me with terrified little eyes. Her expression makes we want to bolt as soon as the door is open. We are quite close to the door, I can tell by the light that seeps through tiny holes in the wood. In fact, I’d say we’re the closest to the door- and I regret it entirely as the door is wrenched open, and a hand closes around my sisters arm. Somewhere across the trailer, another door opens, and another big hand grabs Persis’ arm. She doesn’t struggle at all, and in disgust, I turn to see Ophelia being pulled toward a roaring fire. She struggles viciously, and I want desperately to tell her to stop, or the soldiers will hurt her. She’s a tiny little thing, petite and thin, and they could snap her in half in a second. I would be more liable to take them. Suddenly I want to scream with joy as Ophelia breaks free and begins to run toward the river, and my heart plunges as I realize that the trailer is right next to the export storage. It sinks even further as I see the corners of the soldiers mouths twitch- they’re just playing with her. My little fourteen year old sister runs for the river- the deep part, where the rocks will rip her to shreds. She’ll never be able to swim past the rapids there. As she runs, she turns back to look at me, and seeing the anguish in her face it is apparent she doesn’t mean to swim past anything. She means to drown her self. I begin to scream, but my cries are cut off by the gunshots that claim my sister’s life. Her lifeless form, bloody and limp, falls into the river and catches on a rock. She doesn’t float away, she stays there for me to stare at. Her body mocks me more than the flames that once burned me so badly. The solider who shot my sister chuckles. He really should have gotten a new holster before coming here- the leather on this one is so old and worn that the seams finally give way and I catch his revolver before it can hit the ground. As he turns around to grab me, I hold the gun out in front of his face. “Karma,” I say. Then I shoot him in the face.

I sit on my bed at home, my head in my bloodstained hands. They only sent five people to do the dirty work in our little unimportant city, and I killed all of them. I don’t feel a bit sorry- they killed Ophelia, and they killed Persis. They would have killed many more. Out of the hazy smoke, I know now that I was right in not drinking the water- and I will not try to revive my sister or my best friend. It’s not what they would have wanted. I know the soldiers will be back though- but I can’t worry about that now.

The next day, my grief is no less than before, but my mother coaxes me out of my room for lunch. She sets a bowl of plain porridge in front of me, but instead of eating, my eye catches the newspaper on the counter. All I can see of the headline is ‘Fountain of Youth’. I slowly get up from my chair and walk to the counter, grab the paper, and walk back to my room to read, ignoring the look my mother shoots at me. With all the pollution, the water from the fountain doesn’t seem to make anyone youthful anymore, and several people have been hospitalized because of it’s effect.

I am content at last.