Young Writers Society

Scene opens in a almost completely empty white room. MAN and BOY are the only two objects within, and they stand facing each other. The MAN appears late twenties, and is wearing long grey robe. BOY is late-teens/early-twenties and is wearing street clothes.

BOY: Who are you?

Slight pause.

BOY: "Who are you?"

MAN SIGHS: I am Time.

BOY steps back in shock.

BOY (disbelieving): Time?...Time is dead. It no longer exists. And I doubt that you are Time. It is said to be an old man. You appear but a few years older than I.

MAN (in a humored tone) Oh, I assure you, my boy, that I am not dead. I promise that I exist. Appearances can be deceiving. And please, refrain from calling me an it. I do so detest that word. I am Time.

BOY circles MAN slowly, eyes roaming over MAN before looking into his face.

BOY: Prove it.

MAN smiles and steps back, gesturing slightly with his hand. Suddenly, the white room fades and MAN and BOY stand in a black void.

MAN: I was there at the dawning of this planets first age. I watched the very nebula she came from form. And I will be there to see her end.

A bright light flashes, and MAN and BOY watch as a dust cloud collapses and heats, forming a planet.

MAN: I was there when this planet was discovered, and the settlers came.

A small rift appears in space next to the planet, and MAN and BOY watch as a small spacecraft emerges from the rift, and lands on the planet. They watch as more spacecraft soon follow, whose inhabitants colonize the planet, and build a more permanent portal to keep the rift open.

MAN: I was there when the Great Purge occurred. I was there when the inter-dimensional portals were destroyed.

Scene change, MAN and BOY are now on the planet's surface. All around them is fighting, death. A civil war. They watch the slaughter, and the destruction of what is clearly the capitol city. Looking up, they watch the portal explode.

MAN: I will be there to see them rebuilt. I was there the day you were born, boy, and I have been here everyday since.

Scene change to a Hospital, where MAN, dressed as a janitor, watches a baby being born and congradulates the parents,

I am Time! I will never go away.

He still looked skeptical. I sighed in frustration, and even though I did not want to, I realized what I had to do. "I was there the day your father was murdered."

He jerked quickly, glared at me, his ice-blue eyes piercing daggers, and said, "You might have been one of his murderers for all I know! That proves nothing, other then your insanity."

I placed my hand on his shoulder, and was unsurprised when he shrugged it off. "Now," I asked him gently, "Why would I murder one of my children?"

The blow he dealt me was unexpected, and as I fell the world turned in my sights.

"YOU LIE!"

As he shouted he raised his foot over my prone body. Rolling to the side a little, I raised my hand, and his foot halted mid-strike. "It's not nice to kick a person when they're down." I said angrily, "Nor is it polite to strike your elders. And I, lad, more so than others, am your elder."

I flexed my hand, and watched with unabashed glee as the boy fell over onto his rear. I stood then, wincing slightly, and dusted myself off. "Your father was not my son."

He gaped up at me. "But, you just said-" I cut him off abruptly.

"I said he was one of my children. I never said that he was my son. He is in fact, the son of my grandsons', grandson. My descendent, if you prefer. But no matter what you wish to call it, the fact is that you both had my blood running through your veins. It was for this reason that the Keepers murdered your father. It is for this reason that they hunt you."

"So what if you are my great, great, great, gods, I don't know how many 'greats' grandfather? That means nothing, not to me!"

"It should mean something to you, boy! Your father denied it, and it was his downfall. Don't make the same mistakes that he did." I snapped.

He stared at me for a long moment. "It is because of you, isn't it? You, your blood is the reason that I can," He paused and looked around nervously before whispering, "I can jump through time?"

I nodded. "Yes. It is the reason that the Keepers of Time so greatly desire you. With your fathers' demise, you are the last Jumper alive on the planet, perhaps in the universe. You are the greatest threat to them, and to what they have done."

"And you aren't? You are Time itself. You know the past, the present, the future. Why did you not stop the Keepers from conquering our planet? Why do you not stop them now?" He queried harshly.

"The vows I took centuries ago prevent me from changing Time. The Keepers know of these vows. They know that I am virtually powerless compared to them. I was ignorant when I trusted them with this world, and when I shared with them the secrets of Time. I was foolish. And it has caused the very threads of time to unravel. The things that they've done, the periods they have altered, I can change none of this. Only you can. Only you can save Time. Your father may have denied his birthright, but he didn't deny you yours. You know this." My statement was made calmly, and as I spoke he seemed to draw into himself.

His sigh was made with a hint of resignation. "I never wanted any of this."

"When I was of your maturity, I thought the same thing. The gods cursed me with this terrible gift, and in truth I have done nothing but suffer since the day I received it. You say I know the past? Yes, I know the past. I know that the Keepers have altered the past from it's true course. You say I know the present? I know the present that should of happened, and I know the present that currently is. You say I know the future? Since I trusted the Keepers the future has been black to me. I am not all-powerful. I simply am what I am. Time."

"You really need me, don't you?" he asked quietly.

"If there was any other way, I would never have sought you out. But I cannot fix what I have broken. Only you can. There are no other Jumpers left alive. You are the last. You are the only hope for the world." If he does not agree to help, I will not hesitate to resort to begging.

His eyes, which had grown dark with determination, seemed to pierce right through my body.

"Well then," he asked me, "What are we waiting for?"