|I, Sammy Wharton
Author: gmagirl PM
Sammy Wharton is old. Very old. In fact, he is immortal. Join him on his path to immortality and the hilarious adventures he has on the way.Rated: Fiction T - English - Humor/Adventure - Words: 756 - Published: 05-12-12 - id: 3021846
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
For those of you who haven't heard of me, I am Samuel Lee Wharton, or just Sammy. This is my story of finding my immortality. If your lucky, I'll even let you in on the big secret. You never know what might happen.
Your scholars nd scientists need some updating, because right now, they just sound like British moms telling their kids that there is no such thing as fairies (Which isn't true. My best friend Lopenia is a fairy!). Your people believe that the whole idea of immortality is preposterous. So I've just made it my job to set things straight, because I do exist!
I was born in 2573 B.C., so that would make me 4,583 years old. So I guess I could say that I've seen it all. Growing up in the early years of Egypt was absolutely fascinating, there was a lot of pyramid building going on then.
Since archaic Egyptian is my native tongue, I could probably help translate the Rosetta Stone and everything, but that would make it too easy for those people. I enjoy watching them mess up too much to help. You wouldn't believe how much they have gotten wrong. I believe that they have gotten wrong. I believe that they currently have about 4 words right. Those words would be hip-hop-dance-party! Do you get it? No? Oh well, didn't expect the feeble-minded to understand such a old Egyptian joke.
Now, on to Memphis, the beautiful city of my birth. Like I said, the whole oh-lets-build-a-temple-so-I-can-die-and-be-buried-in-a-lot-of-rock idea had gotten into the current pharoah's head, which would be Khufu. So there were a lot of slaves amuck, and we Memphisians would have loved to be rid of the whole mess. Who wants to wake up in the wee hours of the morning to the slaves yelling?
Anyway, I was born a poor boy, illiterate, not even supposed to survive my birth. Well, I did it, and look where I am now, writing this damn autobiography for my faithful followers. I taught myself to read, and therefore, to write, back when I was 13. Quite a feat considering the time period.
I would end up starting my own newspaper, The Memphisian Times. I'm letting New Yowk "borrow" my idea for the time being. But I am getting ahead of myself again. Now, I'm taking you back to 2588 B.C.. I was 15, and this was, consequently, the year I first learned of immortality being a reachable thing.
A visiting Greek scholar by the name of Sopheles needed an apprentice. So naturally, being the young, poor boy I was, I accepted his offer. Sopheles had went on to tell me that the hours were harsh, and the payment cheap. For me, any kind of payment would be a small fortune. As I explained to him my precarious situation, Sopheles smiled and told me I was perfect for the job. Oh goody! (Sarcasm, if you didn't catch it)
We were to leave for Greece shortly, as I was soon told. Greece! The Parthenon! I would finally see my mother's native home; the beautiful country that I had heard stories about for years! I was very hopeful about seeing the temples for Zeus and Hades and Apollo, hich were my favorite gods.
Either way you look at it, I was excited. I had wanted to go to Greece since the very first story, and I was finally given that chance. But first things first. I needed to learn Greek. Sopheles agreed to teach me, and since we still had about two weeks til we needed to go, my teacher said that we could start the next day. And si it began. I was a good student, steady learner, and I could master the shorter sentences in no time.
I had never been on a boat before, and I was sure I was going to be sick the entire time, but when we got on, I felt fantastic. I loved the water, the salty breeze blowing through my hair, the sea spraying on my face as we left the harbor, the blue-green water lapping up against the sides of the boat...
But as I looked back on the city, I knew it would be a long time before I saw it again. And so begins my story.