Alien

Chapter 3: Extraterrestrial

I woke up in our trailer alone and cold. Dad must have stolen one of my blankets to keep the stray cat that he has fallen in love with. I have thought many times that the cat may be more loveable than me. I'm probably right and am pretty sure I should be upset about that. I'm not.

I walked to school alone. again.

Nothing new.

Nothing new ever happens though.

Not here.

Not ever.

We are living, walking, stereotypes. Stereotypes aren't open to change and I am different; thus I am an outcast. A loner. An Alien.

Everyone reacts differently when they realize that I don't feel. Some run away screaming, the more mature ones smile nod and pat me on the back as if I am a recently recovered mental patient, likely to break into a fit of rage any minute. Mostly though, they think I am a joke. They are wrong. I am a walking chunk of beef jerkey; Does that sound surreal to you?

Yes, I can be sarcastic. I can be funny too. It's a wonder to some people when I crack a joke. They seem to think they have broken through some sort of shield, That I have let them in. Just like many others, they would be wrong. as soon as they discover that they leave me. My walls still completely intact. my fears and insecurities still safe. My Extra Terrestrial nature still a mystery to all those who (In the immortal words of Sherlock Holmes) "see but do not observe".

My world is small. It consists of just a few things, all within a mile radius of each other. School, Bullies, Teachers, and Dad. That's all, and only one of those things is aloud to reside inside the all be it messed up walls around my stone cold heart. I'll give you a hint, It's not school.

My school is a grey and white block that looks like two shoeboxes stuck together with some kind of mossy glue. It's gross. Everything looks big beside this school. the ceilings barely clear the heads of the teachers. even a short kid like me has to duck to get in the door. The air inside always feels musty and old, like the teachers. Depending on the day it is either warm and damp, or freezing and so dry that I have to use half a stick of Chapstick to save myself days of lips that peel like the paint on the school walls.

I am the only student in my grade that goes to see the councillor on a regular basis. My dad says I should because we don't really have time to go see a therapist with everything going on right now. She always says the same things, (the therapist I mean, unless my Dad is hiding something from me) but I like to try and shake things up. Every week I say hello to her in a different language. this week I'm Hawaiian. Next week I am thinking about Latin, but I don't think it matters which language I use, she'll never understand me.