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An Alien in Disguise Among Humans

An Alien in Disguise  Among Humans

Include the following in your story:

~Aurora-Borealis~Paintbrush~Corn-Field~Cluster~Lineup~Overlook~Suspect~Bridge~Dome~Dash~

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Mitch sat on the bed, trying hard to relax. His thin, gossamer wings slid from his back, and he grimaced. It was getting harder to restrain them. He couldn't live on this planet forever. He'd been dropped here into a cornfield as a baby, with a young woman, the identity of whom he  didn't know. He'd been brought to a human couple, who had no idea what he was. They had raised him. There was no reason why anyone could ever assume that he wasn't human. He looked like them in every way, with the exception of his wings. The species that he belonged to normally had green-tinted skin, and smooth, hairless bodies. He had been genetically engineered, since they needed a baby that looked human. However, he still had wings, since those didn't appear for several years. They had first budded out of his skin when he was around the age of seven, and he could keep them secret.

Mitch rose, and felt himself drifting into the air as his wings beat. He heard a soft buzzing noise, and he smiled. It was a comforting sound. But then, his smile faded. He was so very alone, a fact which he couldn't help but dwell upon. He'd never met someone else like him. He had a relatively low voice for his species, and he knew that, although people thought that was what set him apart the most from other people, it was merely a stroke of luck that made it so they defined him as a countertenor rather than a freak of nature. Still, perhaps that strange voice was even more of a blessing than that. After all, it made Pentatonix a musician lineup to be reckoned with. It made him famous, which his caretakers approved of. They said it would help him serve his purpose.

Mitch leaned back, moving so that his body curved until he was on his back, in a way. His wings beat faster, and the buzzing intensified. It put pressure on them, after all. Still, it was relaxing for him to be like this.

He looked out the window. He liked cold places like Iceland, where he was at the moment, because his species lived in freezing places. They could be found at and near the poles of their planet. This was where he really belonged. Beside that, it was beautiful here. Outside the window, he was able to see the Aurora Borealis. It was stunning. If he'd grown up with the rest of his people, he would see this regularly. Unfortunately, they probably took it for granted.

Mitch was here to be a bridge between the humans and the Munful, his species. He would eventually reveal what he was, and the Munful would go to earth. Hopefully, having a popular celebrity such as himself be non-human would help them to be more accepting. The Munful weren't even the only species on their home planet that was waiting for this. He had to do well. 

Mitch took out his phone, and looked at the comments of Pentatonix's recent video. Most of them were the usual comments praising them, complaining about who didn't get enough credit, and making requests , but then he saw one that made him tense.

Mitch has such a high voice! Like, he's not even a countertenor, I think, he's gotta be an alien from outer space or something!  He just makes it so look so easy.

Does he suspect anything? Mitch couldn't help wondering, before mentally kicking himself. That's silly. No one does.

Still, this sort of thing was very stressful to him. If anyone found out what he was before he was told that they could know, then he would be in trouble. It would cause a mess that would be very difficult to clean up.

Suddenly, he was yanked from his thoughts when he heard a buzzing--one that wasn't caused by his wings. He sighed. "I hate this implant," he whispered to himself. It was a small machine in his skin by his ear, and it rang when it was time for him to give a report to his caretakers. "Answer," he said.