Peculiar (Under Editing)

Exposition

There are many words to describe me. So many, perhaps, that I couldn't keep track of every single one. But there is one that sticks out the most. My name is Kassandra Lauren Pepper Leann, I am 943 years old, and I am a Peculiar.

The word "peculiar" was coined in the 1600's from Greek roots, as the story goes, but to me, it means so much more than that. Peculiar is the name of my home, it is the name of my species, it is the name that represents billions of lives. It is a word that I hold most dear. It's true origin came from my people, passed on in stories of battles, of family's, and of loss. It reached Earth as nothing more than another word to learn and memorize, it meant nothing to the people there; It had lost its meaning, the countless stories embedded into its history. My mother remembers the day she heard the first story. She told me these stories, along with countless others, when I was just a little thing, wrapped up in soft blankets, tucked tight in bed; she was the light of my childhood. But she was not of my people, she was not a Peculiar.

My mother was born on Earth, she was called an Androis. Androis is a combination of two Greek words, early and human. The Androans were a genetically altered clone species transported to Earth by the Peculiars, who wanted to see if life could survive on the new planet. By the early days, only half of them were still remained. The others were killed in the harsh, new environment. But every several years, the Peculiars would pay a visit, giving them items like cups or bowls, clothing, lighting, building material. The Androans were treated like guinea pigs in a cruel experiment, by my own kind. In one such visitation, my mother came in first contact with a man who would become my father. From there, the rest is history.

I was born on Kralaya, the Peculiars home planet. My mother was taken back to the planet, very reluctantly, once my father found out of her pregnancy. When taken back, my mother was discriminated. Scrutinizing gazes seemed normal. On some days, she stayed inside, protected from the outside world. Once I was born, people started looking to the sweet nature of a child rather than the supposed outsider before them. While my father constantly fought for his family, the scale was unbalanced, his words were meaningless. My parents made an agreement with the government: Let them raise me until I was old enough to take care of myself. And then, my mother would be taken back to Earth, to live as an Androis once again. At that time, I was only six years old.

I stayed with my parents until I was eighteen, and then forced out by my father. I didn't have much choice but to live off the streets of Jahovi, my birth city. Eventually, a friend took me in, and I lived with her until I could support myself. At twenty-three years of age, I was able to get my own home. Life was simple, and remained to be so. I ended up moving four years later to Jear, the closest neighboring city to Jahovi, which was actually over 4,000 miles away. That's equivalent to the distance from Alaska to Mexico. I lived there for another twenty years, putting me at the age of forty-seven. Age didn't matter when you lived 900 plus years. A few months later, I had my first real love interest. But nothing ever lasted, never with me. After a while, the thought of children seemed as alien as the space above me. After a few failed relationships, I stopped trying. And with the ending of that, it gave me plenty of time to work my way up the chain of command. I reached the top only ten years later, making me fifty-seven. I hoped jobs then, trying to gather as much experience as I can. Life was played pretty simple then.

I lived this slow, breezy life until I reached a political job, twenty-two years later. At just seventy-nine years of age, it was an impressive position. Again, I worked my way up the chain of command, which took double the amount of time. I celebrated my one hundredth birthday in the capital building of Jear, looking down on the brilliance of the city. I still remember that day. Four years later, I reached the top of the chain, ending up as the first assistant to someone who would be equivalent to a Colonol. There, I learned the troubling tensions between my species and others of the Universe. Our biggest tension was with the Kralayans, to our south.

We didn't own the planet, we share it. Kralaya is divided exactly in half, one side belonging to us, and the other to the Kralayans, the original owners. As the Androans were brought to Earth by the Peculiars, the Peculiars were brought to Kralaya by the Time Lords, the oldest and most advanced species in the Universe. We were an experiment, as were the Androans. But we were created to be guinea pigs to the Time Lords, to test their new serums and pills and concoctions. Maybe that's what gave us the inspiration to create another species as the Time Lords did to us. But, they made a mistake when making us. In the hope of making us like them, they put regeneration energy into us. Regeneration is an energy, special to the Time Lords, and now us, allowed them to change. It wasn't like a normal change, like a change of mind, no, this changed their entire body. Every time a Time Lord regenerates, they change bodies. In perspective, they change their appearance by completely changing bodies. It's like they take off the old and getting in the new. They put this energy into us, but made a miscalculation. Their goal was to have us change, like them, but while we posses regeneration energy and can regenerate, we don't change. Our appearance stays the same, but we are renewed. And, as normal, once we had the power, and the intelligence, we revolted against the Time Lords. The revolution was small, only lasting a few battles, if they could even be called that. The correct word to be used was escapes, as we did not have the capability or technology to fight. A small group escaped on a shuttle, finding themselves landing on Kralaya. At first, they were small, and were able to survive undetected by their new neighbors. But as their numbers grew, it was hard to hide. When they were first discovered, the Kralayans took them under their wing, pitying them. Now under protection, the population swelled, causing a small uprising in the political parties of Kralaya. It worsened as the numbers rose. Eventually, the outcry reached the Kralayan people, and people started taking sides. It wasn't long before they wanted to take us to another, uninhabited planet. But the move would be to risky. Even with new technology, finding a new planet, suitable and uninhabited, was like finding a needle in a haystack. Besides, the numbers of my people were already well over three hundred thousand. The amount of time that it would take to move the population would be too long. Additionally, my people didn't take the aggression well at all. Rumors of kidnappings and skirmishes started to spread. Nothing happened until one audacious Kralayan decided to take matters into his own hands. Leading a group of resistance, he charged into our towns and attacked every living soul. Soon, word spread, and my people responded in kind. A battle, named in history as the Epathi Slaughter, lasted for two nights and one day. As the name goes, it was a bloodbath. The only reason that my people still live is because of the Kralayans. On that second night, soldiers arrived, ending the battle and stopping the slaughter. But while they helped, the bond between my people and the Kralayans was hanging by a thread, a thread too easy to cut. It ended in a war. My people fought, and won, using their passion for survival and the power of what they believed in. They won battle after battle, gaining mile after mile of more land. Eventually, they had captured the equivalent of Russia, America, and Canada combined. And, out of courtesy, diplomacy, and reluctant agreement, they gave us half of the planet. And now, we keep our population at steady numbers, and cultivate the land to our needs.

Life continues, as it always does. The wheel must keep turning; the clock must keep ticking; hearts must keep beating. This is where my story begins. 

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I like those squiggles, don't you? I think they might be my favorite key. Anyway, welcome to my first chapter. Indeed, it's only exposition.

I plan to publish once (maybe twice) a week. Keeps everyone happy. 

That's all I have for now....

Thanks,

~Galli