Defined by these Stars

The She-Alien

I couldn't feel the bottom half of my body. The frost bites probably had eaten through any feeling in it for at least a week. Frankly, though, I couldn't care less.

I picked up the half-molded piece of bread sitting beside me, and I picked at a clean piece, letting it sit on my tongue. After a moment of relishing in its absent taste, I swallowed it, and stared at the gray wall opposite me. It was a giant mass of gray painted over the previous white stone which for some reason the aliens had insisted be gray instead.

Although, if I tried hard enough, I could almost see a face in the dismal wall: the roughly painted strokes sort of formed an oval shape, and the two dirt marks could be the eyes. The mouth could have been the stray scratch a little way beneath the eyes. It was in the shape of a half-smile as if it knew something I didn't, and it found the matter to be of great hilarity.

I wish it'd stop looking at me like that.

Suddenly the sound of echoing boots drew my attention to the steel door, snapping me out of my reverie. A key jangled and was inserted into the keyhole, turning it counterclockwise. Then the key was turned clockwise.

It opened to reveal an alien in the navy blue attire I was so used to seeing in the past month. The alien—I had come to the conclusion was female—was holding a tray of more stale bread and another bowl of liquidy substance, smelling faintly of salt and butter. My stomach turned in protest.

    She walked over and set the tray beside me, meeting my eyes and stood. I took the tray and put it aside next to me. I would eat my lunch later. But instead of nodding in affirmation and walking away as she usually did, she just stood there.

    "Your execution is today," she said. I wasn't surprised to hear her speak so fluently in my tongue anymore. I had learned by way of some wayfarer the aliens were forcing us into teaching them our language, and if we did not submit, we would be punished. Ironically, our teaching the language also allowed for us to know better when we would be punished. Punished, punished, punished.

    "I know," I replied raspily. I took the bowl of liquid and spooned some into my mouth, hoping it would better clear my throat. It tasted terrible, but thankfully, my throat did clear up a little to make me sound less pathetic for my final hours.

    The she-alien sat down beside me, still towering over me despite the fact I was a male and she was a female.

    "Your revolution would never have succeeded, you know," the alien said with something in her voice almost resembling sympathy. As if the aliens could sympathize.

    "It could have. If only we'd bombed your base in time."

    "With a small, motley crew of rogues? Your kind is significantly inferior to our military strength even if you had an army."

    "Well, yes, if we had an army like yours, I'm sure we'd be tearing each other apart by now and have destroyed our planet as you did yours," I retorted. She stared at me for a moment before looking the other way, avoiding my eyes.

Apparently, their planet had exploded when their star had burned out much too soon (a star and planet much like ours) and when they had located our planet, they were elated.

Until they found out only one race could survive on this planet. As their race was fewer in quantity, they could survive alone with the air available, as they consumed the necessary elements in the air more rapidly than we did. All they needed to do was remove the other race from the equation, and they'd live forever. Happily ever after, I suppose.

"It's not like we had a choice," the alien finally said after a moment.

"To kill each other or kill your planet - which one?"

"Both! Our priblems came from the past ginerations. It's nit our fault!" Her accent was thickening.

"So, why did you finish the job? Why did you kill your people? Why did you kill mine?"

Her face twisted into a sour grimace as she lowered her hand to her belt, reaching for the whip. I sighed.

"Do you solve all your problems that way? Whip them until they scream they've had enough?" I inquired.

She retracted her hand.

"You'll be gone in five hours," she said, standing up. She walked away, the heavy door slamming shut behind her, letting it eternally echo.

I didn't say anything, but I had the distinct feeling her declaration was more for herself than me. I shoved the tray aside and lied down on the cold floor for the last time.