The Time Keepers
Megan Turner | Wantirna College |
English | Term 4 2024
In a world where time stood still, Lillith was a child like all others. Her skin was clear and unblemished. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and her mind rushed with curiosity and excitement, though trapped in the small cage of her unchanging existence. She was, like everyone else, ageless. The adults were too—forever young, untouched by age or wrinkles. Everyone was slim, energetic, and perfect in this “perfect world.”
The device that made it all possible was embedded in every citizen’s chest when they were born, halting the natural flow of time. The people of this world didn’t age, grow ill, or feel the weight of time passing. The seasons came and went, but no one felt them. Lillith had grown up in this place, where nothing changed. She had never seen an elder, nor a wrinkle, a grey hair.
But despite the serene beauty of it all, something felt wrong. Her mother’s voice, always soft and kind, carried no warmth. Her teacher, who had taught the same lessons for years, spoke in an emotionless tone. Even her best friend, Lia, who once laughed in the sunlight, had grown distant. Everything felt hollow, as if the world was frozen in a picture.
One rainy afternoon, as the sky darkened, Lillith wandered through the streets, searching for something—anything—to break the monotony. The scent of wet earth and damp wood usually comforted her, but today it felt different. Something in the air tugged at her, pulling her toward a forgotten part of the city. There, behind tall hedges and thick vines, stood an old, crumbling building. Its stone walls were chipped, its roof sagged. A relic from a time long past, it was out of place in this world where decay had been banished.
Lillith pushed open the heavy wooden door, which creaked in protest. Inside, the air was thick with dust, and sunlight filtered through cracked windows. The room had the quiet, sacred feel of an abandoned temple, and Lillith ventured deeper, wide-eyed with awe.
Her gaze landed on a book—its pages yellowed with age. It rested on a pedestal, as if waiting for her. When she touched it, a strange thrill ran through her, something she had never felt before. She opened the book, and as her fingers turned the pages, words seemed to leap off the paper, igniting something inside her. The stories within were unlike anything she had ever known.
The book spoke of a time when people aged and died, when life was fleeting and precious. It told of laughter that lifted hearts and sorrow that broke them. People lived with the knowledge that every moment could be their last. The book painted pictures of a life lived fully, with the awareness of time slipping away.
One passage in particular struck her:
“To age is to live & to change is to breathe. Only in the knowing of loss can one truly understand the beauty of life.”
Lillith’s heart raced as the words sank in. She realized why the adults around her seemed so empty. Without aging, they had lost the essence of life. They couldn’t laugh with joy or weep with sorrow because they never felt the weight of time.
Days passed as Lillith wrestled with what she had learned. She longed to feel the full spectrum of life—to laugh, cry, love. The world around her felt like a dream, frozen in place. She couldn’t bear it anymore. She had to make things real again.
Her search led her beneath the city, to the heart of the Timekeepers’ domain. Hidden beneath layers of concrete, the Timekeepers maintained the device that kept time at bay. Lillith had heard whispers of it—stories of those who guarded the machine.
Late one night, she found the chamber. Hidden behind locked doors and layers of security, it was a labyrinth of wires and glowing screens. But Lillith was determined. With trembling hands, she began to dismantle the machine, piece by piece, undoing the very thing that had stopped time. As the hum of the device slowed and then stopped, the air seemed to shift, heavy with the promise of change.
When Lillith stepped out into the world again, the first rays of dawn broke through the clouds. People moved through the streets, but something was different. Slowly, their faces changed. Wrinkles appeared, grey hairs sprouted, and their eyes—they began to shine with something new.
Lillith stood back, a sense of peace settling in her chest. She had done it. She had set them free—not just from the device, but from the emptiness that had consumed their lives. The world was alive again. And so was she.
Time had returned. And with it, the beauty of life, in all its messy, fleeting glory.
