Alien

Chapter 1: Alien

"Alien. I'm so sick and tired of being told I'm an alien. It's not fair. My life got messed up, that's all." If I had emotions I am sure I'd be mad right now. Really mad. But I'm not. I'm nothing, I'm always nothing. "I don't feel. It got too hard so I gave it up. It's that simple."

They were all ganging up on me. Again. Calling me Alien, Strange one, E.T., and a few other names that I swore to my Dad I would never say. It drives me nuts. Sometimes I wish I could just rip the mouths out of their stupid faces. Maybe if I really wanted to, if I was fast enough, I could get a tooth or two before I was overpowered. How do they feel right now. I wonder...strong? Brave? Witty? Smart? No, they feel less than I do. They are just savage dogs looking for their next fresh meat. Maybe one day they will give up on me and move on. Haha no. Smart attack dogs wait. They wait out their prey, stare hungrily at them for hours, days even, until the meat caves. I'm tough meat though. I've been through so many things that I am strong and hard, like beef jerky. I am the beef jerky. I can't tell if that is an insult or an inspirational phrase. Seeing as I can't feel hurt or enlightened either is acceptable I suppose.

"Is E.T. Gonna phone home on us?" Some jerk in the group shouted.

"Oh no! You can't E.T.! What about poor Elliot!"

"Hey diddle diddle, The cat and the fiddle, E.T. Biked over the moon" they were losing steam. Their insults were getting slowly worse. About 5 minutes later they all left me be singing Extraterrestrial in unison. Would this piss me off if I could feel? Sometimes I wonder what the average person would be feeling right about now. Anger? Sadness? Loneliness? I don't know. You know how when you give up a food that you love life sucks for a while and then it's okay? And then a few months later you have the food again and you can't remember why you liked it so much in the first place because now it's so gross, almost...foreign...? Well it's sort of the same with me and feelings, I really have tried to, for lack of a better word, jump start my emotions again, but then it just gets too complicated and weird...too Alien.

I know, that makes me a hypocrite, calling myself an Alien but that is the truth. My old life is alien to me, I have no connection to the boy I was three months ago. I am now a hardened, stronger, more experienced and prepared me. The tender veal I once was is now a rock hard slightly stale jerky. I can fight off whatever attack those disgusting scavengers throw at me. I feel no pain. I. Cannot. Be. Broken.

I may be a hypocrite but I am no worse than the dogs that bite me.