"Common Deception"

 Nightfall. The night was dark and timid, like one that is illustrated in the children’s books, when the witch glides across the aphotic sky. It was silent, not a sound was made. It was 4am. I had just came from the scorch ring demons that live below. I am defined as a 12 year old boy; living in Syracuse, New York, with a wealthy mother of two, and a dad who has more affairs than Bill Clinton, but little do they know. I am not what I perceive to be. I full not only the world, but also myself, into pretending to be something far beyond my reach. I lie my way into the human race, I walk amongst them, I praise their flag, I go to school, I eat and breathe in their presence, but is that enough?

They’re not like us. The greatest aspect about the mortal world is that they contain a wondrous gift called, feelings. We don’t feel, emotions are only a state of mind. Where I’m from, feelings are forbidden. The boss of our colony believes feelings are a way of human nature. To eliminate one from feelings, at five years, we remove the hearts from every child. It’s a horrible dark thing to encounter. You can hear the scream and anguish from the child to the highest peak of the venomous forest. The dark clouds hover the world as the scream gets louder, they enjoy the sound of pain and agony, it’s the blood which keeps them alive. I felt the pain of the little girl.  I felt the knife as it drove through her hepatic vein, and the pulmonary artery. I felt the cry, I felt the intrigued sadness, I felt the anger, and the hatred.

Myself. Being me, is not something I want. I’m a monster. I’m the one your parents say to watch out for, I’m the one your friends say never to go out with. I’m the one that can fool the world. I’m the one that can make you drown in your own blood. I’m the one you should never trust. I’m the one you shall never love.

The Moon. After the human form of me caressed my body, I sent out for my bed. The only place where safety is a promise. I crept through the window of my cluttered room. My mortal parents are asleep. I hear their dreams, their thoughts, and their fears relating to their long run down days at the office. I hear my brother, crying, and sweating with terror. I cant read his dreams, his mind is controlled by someone much more powerful than I. Oh, how scared the poor fella must be. The dream is dangerous, its a poison, its a defining characterized image of the world I am embarrassed to say I’m apart of. I decide to leave Tim at his dream if any disturbance, could kill him instantly. So I slipped on my pajamas, and stared at the moon, the moon stared back. Its lucent light gleamed where my heart should be, but wasn’t. The light didn’t hurt. It was soft, and elegant, it touches my body with such grace, and respect. If only nights like this could last forever, no pain, no sorrow, no suffering, only the light, and the noise of nightfall.

It’s Saturday. Tim was already awake. I heard him downstairs talking about the new Forge game coming out today. I also heard the words “no,” and “you already have 36 games you don’t even play with,” and my parents characterizing Tim as “Spoiled.” I began to block out the conversation, and focused on getting dressed. Even though its been two years I’ve been part of this earth world. I am still not used to the need of a “shower.” A shower is defined as water particles falling down from a faucet like object which hovers over a something called a “bath tub,” and while your in the shower, you use a substance known as soap, which is stuff that supposedly makes you smell good.

I dried myself. The feeling of dryness releases the tension on my false coating. As I dressed my body with jeans and a T-shirt I sat there on the edge of my bed, staring at my frame. I can’t help but stare. It’s amazing how I can look like this; so beautiful so innocent, so human, while underneath I look like a sloppy joe.

The Mirror. Mirrors aren’t true, their lies through a 2 inch piece of glass. Mirrors are expected to define our existence, by glancing at the reflection of a person that should be but isn’t. They fool us. We’re not what they want us to be; we’re the exact opposite. I’m not what the mirror sees, I’m much worse.

My home. I live nowhere. The world contains nothing. It’s crowded with emptiness, but filled with the sadness of corrupted souls. The world of Sheferous has no life, no meaning, and no defiance. It’s made of arousing fires, causing the atmospheres to look sluggy and gray, killing everything in its path. Volcanoes erupt, oozing out the deathly substances of lava. The living, do not live hear. The kind and generous do not live here. The love and the caring do not live here. I live here.      

The outer layer of ourselves. We are feared by many, due to our misleading appearance. We are naked, clothes are forbidden. Our ears are angled upright, our fingers are clawed, our skin is pink and wrinkled, like a shaved chi Wawa. I am sent to earth as a spy, my world wants to destroy and conquer. I pretend to be an orphan, in which my parents adopted 10 months ago. I have been going back and forth from Sheferous to earth, feeding my colony the updates, and information about the world that will soon be theirs.

Who am I? Hello my name is Gretty, I am a boy who is 4,000 years old, and I was sent to earth to stalk the lives of billions of people. As a disguise, I wear a body suit, which slowly and painfully transforms me into a human. Who would’ve guessed it?

The Good Life. I walk in unison with my family. Holding hands, side by side, buying ice cream, biking along the river, fishing with my dad, my mother congratulating me on my excellence. Tim and I jumping, rolling, skating, screaming, doodling, watching, laughing, enjoying, going, and never stopping.  This is my world. I live here.

Fading into darkness. As night casted over, I slipped out of bed, getting ready to go to the world that initially runs through my blood. I went out into the night; blackness was showing its true colors. I stood in the middle of the street; I closed my eyes and imagined the fire, the smoke, and the lifeless zone. I opened my eyes when I heard, deaths scream. I was here, but god knows I didn’t want to be. After living hear for so long, this world still gives me the creeps. I shivered and shaked in terror as Henderous (leader of the colony) called my name.  His voice was in full command. You could hear death parting from his lips.

“GRETTY!” Henderous thundered.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, as the words trembled through my mouth.

“GIVE ME THE REPORT OF THE HUMANS!”

I told him about how they have a something called “The holidays” coming up in a month, and within the series of events called the holidays there would be a huge ceremony called “New Years.” I explained to him that new years is a holiday in which earth celebrates a new decade. He then decided, he would strike them on that very date, January 1st. As he spoke of the torturous language of death, I felt my body drop to the floor. I felt my mind spin from one direction, to the other. I felt my knees weaken. I felt my teeth chatter. I felt the thought of, a land so precious, and so well respected, crumble down, and transforming into a world where staying alive is never a promise.

New Years. Chaos erupted. People; Burning, running, gliding, yelling, crying, saving, praying, hoping for an end of the pain, and the sorrows. Buildings; crashing, slamming, jamming, creating a fog of dust. Fire; flaming, boiling, dancing to the sound of ending lives. Henderous; roaring, towering, defeating, smashing, creating a world where death is a sport, not an action. The creatures far and below; biting, fighting, killing kids, mothers, sons, cousins, grandparents, pets, anything living. ME; watching, despairing, hurting, standing, nowhere, nothing, empty, souless, mindless, heartless, this was the end.