Diary of a Teenage Alien

Chapter One:

I, Alien

I was not born, I was summoned.

Everyday I walk the halls of Cicero High, studying my classmates like they study the books I already know by heart. I read them all over the summer; having no friends has its perks.

How are the girls doing their hair lately? How do they walk? How do they hold those cute little purses? Where do they get them?

I have not been at the mall yet. I am too new. I would stick out, and cause suspicion.

My “name” is Emily. What was my name before? I don’t know, unfortunately. I don’t even know if I ever had one. Parents? None. Only two grown humans I call “mom” and “dad”. They don’t know who—- no, what—- I am. And I have been given the direction to not let them know.

I was placed into this community by the Intergalactic Peace Force— or IPF. There will be a “disclosure” next year that aliens exist, but until then, I cannot share my deepest secret.

A little about me: I was never born, so I don’t have a birthday. My consciousness (which is thousands of years old) was implanted into this form at a local Catholic hospital. My memory of previous bodies has been wiped. I woke up in dark hospital room, with two nurses in the room. One noticed I had woken up, and hurried off to get the doctor.

A man with a big black hat came in. He seemed like the doctor, or at least a man of authority. He explained everything I needed to know. (It felt like enough information at the time, but after my first few weeks of high school, I realize it wasn’t enough.) He helped me learn how to timejump in this reality, where I can travel through time (or space) through meditation and some weird necklace. I can get into that later.

While all my classmates were vacationing and getting ready for the upcoming schoolyear, I was spending it in the local library. I read things quickly, and recall most details.

And despite my efforts, all the books in the world couldn’t prepare me for interacting with human teenagers. Some of my field notes are as follows:

They have a thing where they are obsessed with music. It’s very important, and they often create friend groups based off music taste. These may be the “youth subcultures” I’ve read about. I must find a “band” that has good music so I can buy some t-shirts from the mall when I go later on.

There are various school dances. Upcoming dance: Halloween dance. People have “dates” they bring to dance with. I will be going alone and observing quietly.

Athletic games are important. Note: I must buy a Cicero High sports jersey to attend the football game next Sunday night. Athletes are at the top of the social hierarchy of males.

Tiny purses are important. Note: I must buy one to carry tampons and my new cell phone.

Some teens enjoy comic books and seem to be socially impaired like myself. They are not well respected. I heard one smelly kid speak about Superman being an alien. Apparently Superman is well liked, and not a villain. Note: must befriend one comic book kid by the end of October.

The kids cannot remember what they read- they must study to remember the information, which is reading the same thing over and over again. I need to learn how to pretend to study.

I’m very lucky that the other teens have not caught on to my strange nature. I look fairly normal: brown straight hair in a boring hair cut. Hoodie over t-shirt. Jeans. Sneakers. My lore is also simple: from Nebraska, adopted by young Christian couple when I was 12. My earthside age is now 16. However, even my “mom and dad” do not know the truth: I was transplanted into their lives at the beginning of this summer. They weren’t married beforehand- they were homeless people who were kidnapped and reprogrammed in a rural farmhouse to accept the current “cover story”. Their previous memories were wiped, so they can’t remember their pasts. As far as they know, the lore is completely true. Chances of them regaining said memories are slim to none. I’m pretty sure the previous owner of my body was also homeless— a runaway from a foster home in Nebraska. Not all trafficking is the stuff you see on the news— sometimes it’s just using your body as a harbor for intergalactic creatures.

Do I feel bad for this? Yeah, of course. But I have no choice.

My mission is simple, straightforward, and easy to comprehend. Hat Guy let me know that under no circumstances can I be detected by the humans as a “non-human.” Everything humans don’t understand is often called “demonic”, and so my truth must be hidden.

Chapter Two:

The Mall

It’s Friday, last period. It’s math, which I enjoy. All of the assignments have been completed, and so Mrs. Young told us to just sit quietly.

I drum my pencil on my desk, which I learned from my classmates. They do it when they feel restless, and too energized to be placed in a restrictive environment like a public school. I feel disconnected as always, and I notice a girl named Chloe is passing a note. Clara next to her takes the note, which is folded in all sorts of weird directions. She opens it and crinkles her nose, which has constellation of freckles spread across it. I have none, which makes me sad. I would also like constellations on my human form.

“Ewwww!” Clara shot a look over at a boy in the corner. Her eyes sparked with anger.“What the hell, Tyler! Why would you think I would go with you to the dance?! Of course not!” She folded her arms indignantly. “I’m going with Kai.”

The comic book nerd, Tyler, grew bright red with shame and embarrassment. He looked like a stop sign. The kids all burst into laughter. The tteacher looked up sleepily, rubbed her temples, and turned back to reading her magazine.

The bell rang. Sharp tones. I jump and the kids all file out of the room. They chatter amongst themselves with plans to meet up over the weekend, song recommendations, meme references. All things I have no experience in. Yet.

Pretty soon, the only students left in the room were Tyler and myself. I realized this was my chance to make a friend, and get some other goals accomplished. I take a deep breath and head over to the corner where he is struggling to zip his backpack. It’s stuffed with gothic comic books and some textbooks. I watch him, and he finally notices I’m standing a few feet away from him. His face returns to the tomato-red color. I realize he is uncomfortable again, so I put on a friendly face and think of something happy. That helps me when interacting with humans.

“Hi!” I started. I give a little wave. “I haven’t seen you before. I’m sorry Clara did that. It wasn’t very nice of her.”

He looks surprised, as if this was the nicest anybody had been to him. Then his face clouded over and looked angry. “You don’t have to pity me,” he scoffed. “You’re just as unpopular as me.”

I took in that information for a moment. “No, that’s incorrect,” I say. “Technically you are more unpopular. People say mean things to you. I just don’t have friends. But nobody says mean things to me… technically.”

I watch his face, and he just gets angrier.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean,” I say, putting up my hands like an apology. “Anyway, I heard about the dance. The Halloween dance,” I specify. “Look, I know you don’t know me. I don’t know you. But I’m going to the mall in a bit, and I would love if you’d come with me.”

I waited for a response. He blinked a few times. His eyes became wet.

“Sure,” he said quietly. “Let me just go to my locker real fast first. Want to meet at the football field?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Sounds great.” I put on my sunshine smile again, and give another wave. “See you in a bit!”

As he throws his backpack over his shoulder, I head out into the hallway. See? I think to myself. Maybe humans are not so different after all. Definitely not as scary as I thought it’d be.

After getting my stuff for the weekend, I sat on the bleachers and looked for Tyler. He wasn’t here yet. I worried for a bit that he wouldn’t show up. Regardless, I open my phone’s lock screen and go into the NowCab app. It’s like Uber, but not. The drivers aren’t great, but it’s much cheaper. I have a weekly stipend from the IPF, loaded onto an anonymous payment card. I enter the address for the mall, and check to see if there are any drivers nearby. Before I confirm the ride, I hear a holler.

“Hey!”

I look up. It’s Tyler! He looks much happier now, like it’s a new day for him. I smile back at him and wave. “Hey! You ready? I’m about to get the cab.”

“What?” he said. He furrowed his brow. “I have a car. I can bring us.”

My eyes opened wide. “Really? Sure, sounds great!” I plop my phone into my oversized backpack. “More money to spend,” I giggle.

“Haha! Well, I have enough to get myself tacos at the food court… okay, well, let’s get going!”

I clapped excitedly. I haven’t seen anyone else do that before, so I realize it may have been weird. He didn’t seem bothered by it, though.

“This is me,” he says, pointing a car key fob at a blue sedan with a rusted hood. He clicks a button and the headlights blink as a horn goes off. He opens my door, opens his, and slides in the seat. He buckles his seatbelt and I follow suit.

“Okay, you ready?” He asks. After I say yes, he turns to the radio and fiddles with a knob. “What music do you like?”

Oh, no. I hadn’t gotten to trying human music yet. I have no answer.

“Uhh…” I stammer. “Surprise me!”

He took a moment, then smiled even wider this time. “Sure!”

He twists the knob until loud guitar, deep vocals, and booming drums fill the airwaves. “This is my fav track.”

“Oh!”

I genuinely like these sounds. I have never heard anything like it, but it sounds crunchy, and angry… and real. “Who made this?”

“Type O Negative.” He turned the volume down. “Have you heard of them?”

“No!” I replied, interested in this whole new facet of humanity. “I love it, though.”

Tyler’s eyes lit up. “Oh, man! I have to give you a playlist! This is great.” He turned the knob up again, as we merged on the highway. The wind whipped through his hair as he bopped his head to the beat. It was long and dark. He seemed almost like one of those vampires humans love to read about. “I haven’t met any people here who like them.”

That made me think. Here? I pondered that for a moment. Is he new as well? I asked him.

“Well, no, not really.” He turned on his turn signal as we exited the highway. “I mean, I was. Not anymore,” he said with a laugh. “I moved here in junior year, at the middle of the school year. It sucked.” He let out a sigh. “I still haven’t made many friends, but I have made a few.” Then his eyes grew wide. “I know! I could introduce you to them!”

The mere sound of this made me giddy! “Yes! Yes, please!” I laughed. “This is such a fun day!” He laughed, too. It seemed like we were great friends already.

We turned into the entrance to the parking lot. Parking relatively close to the Macy’s, we left our bags in the car. I quickly put my wallet in my pocket, so I didn’t have to carry my huge backpack. It definitely didn’t go with my outfit. (I’ve read many fashion magazines, Pinterest, and online videos. I couldn’t imagine a planet where there are fashion influencers, yet here we are.)

Our first stop is the food court, of course. “What do you want to eat?” he asked, headed towards KFC. “I’m going to stop here and buy some wings.” After letting him know I wasn’t hungry, we got in line, which wasn’t too long. As we waited, he rattled off various bands he enjoyed, and all the different people in said bands. Apparently Peter Steele was the frontman of Type O Negative, and he predicted his own death in a song called I Don’t Wanna Be Me.

“Wait.” I lifted my hand to pause the conversation. “You mean humans can’t do that normally?”

His eyes narrowed. Maybe I was confusing.

“I mean, they can’t predict their own deaths,” I clarified. Still no improvement on his expression. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Humans…?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “What do you mean? You’re not human?” A beat. “Why refer to us as humans, unless you aren’t one?”

My stomach dropped. The Creator’s plan has a funny way of humbling you; it was now my turn to pause and not know what to say.

He studied my face further, but my poker face was set firmly.

He turned away, and it was his turn to order. Silence hung heavily between us as we waited for his order. A few minutes later we were on our way to a nearby table.

“So, what are you then?” He asked. He was focused on his chicken, purposefully avoiding eye contact. I wonder if this is going to go bad, I thought to myself. I wasn’t sure. He seemed nice at first, but now I’m wondering if this was a bad idea… you know, to trust humans and all.

“Human.” I hoped my tone was believable.

He finally looked up at me, scanning my face for signs of honesty, of which he found none. He ate quietly a bit longer, until he looked up with a smirk.

“Sure. Me, too.”

I smiled back. "I'm glad to be human with you."

"And I'm glad to be human with you."