ALIEN - A Collection of Short Stories

I Am A Survivor

They do not know that I am different. They are not aware that I am not from here. They think that I am like them in every way possible, that I am a normal person just like them.

Reporters listed my family's landing as an unsuspected meteor. They thought that the mysterious flying object in the sky was only a chunk of rock. But I know better.

I know that I am not from here, and that I do not belong here. I know why I have come here, to Earth, and I am aware of the threats my family faced on my planet. I know that it was not safe there. The humans do not know have a clue of my suffering, but the mere thought of it still haunts me at night.

They do not know my past life, the one I gratefully left behind. They do not know my former name, Tkajadi, but only the one I go by now, Reese Tobias. On Earth, I would be identified as a sixteen-year-old female,  but on my planet, Shozvik, I was a kupeitzfii of the young age one hundred.

I have adopted the form of a blonde Caucasian female with eyes of emerald green. Her face is soft, her eyelashes long and curled, her curly hair flipped perfectly. Her features could be kind, but could just as easily be so fierce and intimidating. She is skinny. Not a starved skinny, but rather a fit kind. Her naturally rosy cheeks stand out on her pale skin. She was beautiful. I loved her body, so I took it for my own.

I stand in front of the mirror in the house of the Tobias family. My parents also liked the Tobiases, so we became them. Everything that was theirs is now ours.

Moving my arms I see the arms of Reese Tobias moving. I turn my head and so does Reese. I jump, and Reese's feet stomp down on the floor. She is me and I am her.

Reese's phone buzzes in my back pocket. Turning away from the mirror, I pull the girl's phone in front of me. I tap the confusing buttons until I open messages. There is a one in a red circle next to the contact of Reese's friend Amanda.

The message is immediately marked as 'read' when the conversation between the two girls pops up. It screams at me, or rather Amanda does, with all of the letters being capitalized. It reads: "WHERE ARE YOU? SCHOOL'S ABOUT TO START!"

Poor Amanda. She does not know that Reese is no longer. She does not know that I am Reese and that Reese is dead. Good.

Using what humans call 'thumbs,' I slowly, nervously, type back: "I am coming, Amanda. Do not yell at me, please. I woke up late. I do not live very far, so I shall not be very late." I read it over. I should not send it for it is a bit too formal and proper to have come from a teenaged girl.

Erasing the whole text, I slowly type 'Coming.' That is simple enough. Amanda will not be suspicious.

Tucking the phone with the glitter case in the same back pocket, I lift Reese's black bookbag off the floor and onto my shoulder. Quickly, I stumble down the stairs.

Mother and Father must have left for work already since there is no answer to my call. I hope they succeed in blending in; we do not want trouble.

I stampede out the front door and start down the street toward the local high school. I only know where to go because of my wandering on Saturday.

I take a glimpse at the schedule written on my hand as sweat beads down my face and my lungs yearn for air. Reese's first period is art.

I speed walk down the hallway, looking at door numbers as a guide. Though I am looking and searching desperately, only one thought pounds in my head: I am Reese I am Reese I am Reese.

I pull the straps of the bookbag closer to me and look down at Reese's feet--my feet. I am Reese I am Reese I am Reese.

Before I can register the new feet that have appeared in my field of vision, the weight of a scrawny body bumps into mine. Startled, I look up.

The owner of the feet stares back at me. He has beautiful blue eyes and wavy black hair. His lips contort into a sheepish smile. His cheeks become rosy with a heavy blush.

I note that he holds a creased paper in his hands. Despite the folds it still looks clean and new. I see that the paper holds numbers and words--classes. A schedule. He must be new as well.

After a few moments of silence that seem to last forever, I thrust out my hand, making sure I pull my face into a wide grin. "Hello," says Reese's voice even though I am the one that moves my mouth. "I am Reese."