Chapter 1. Wine Blood

There are some people not alien to me. These people are rather
strange but appear as human as can be! They have normal, boring jobs
and shop at tesco like other normal, human, parents do. This is all an
act; I know it for a fact! I have for some time wondered if upon
Roswell they did descend from a place alien to this land, to live a
life of Human normality. I tried the other night to test their
mortality. My plan worked well the results were conclusive. I punctured
him with a pencil, I made it look like an accident of course. When I
recovered from my fake fall I noticed the pencil lead was gone. But no
blood, human or otherwise, came into my view. However a lot of cursing
was made towards my, (human?) foolish ways.

I know I have blood, from when I fell and cut my knee open. There was
loads of it, suspiciously lots, perhaps too much; I have never seen
other human children loose blood like that. Thankfully it was red not
purple or green. But still not a normal red, not a human red, more a
deep burgundy red, like the wine that Adults drink, only gallons of it.
Imagine a hosepipe spurting out that red wine, that's what my leg was
like. They wouldn't take me to hospital though. She held her hand tight
over my wound and, as if healed by her hand, the bleeding stopped. The
only evidence left was the gash in my inhuman pure white skin. This is
yet another coincidence that strengthens my case, that nobody in my
family has been to hospital - Ever! Mum said I was born in a hospital,
but I'm not sure if I believe her. I wonder if I was born at all. Or
was I made out of some alien matter, some cables or bought from an
alien American type mall. I have never even had chicken pox! All the
rest of my class did. Out of 32 I was the only one who didn't get a
spot, not a blemish, not even one! Is this evidence enough of my
inhuman traits?

It seems quite strange that my grandparents are kept so distant from
me. They are not like everyone else's. Apart from my friend Najeem
who's grandparents have come from India and don't speak English. They
smell as well. Not as bad as my grandparents though. When we visited
them I had to kiss my Gran. It was all sloppy and gooey. It was like
kissing a slug. And she smells funny, like caterpillars and talc. I sat
at the other end of the lounge and looked out of the window,
desperately needing this planets fresh air. Afterwards I scrubbed my
check clean until it looked like a tomato. My Granddad was the main
block in my construction of knowledge of my alien heritage. The week
before we visited I had watched Star Wars at the cinema with my friends
from scouts. It was that which made me realise that my grandfather was
a direct descendent from the Darth Vader family. Is he evil? I do not
know. He doesn't talk much but Mum says he shouts at the woman who
comes in to help them in the mornings and night. He doesn't talk to me,
instead he makes the Vader noise. The frwwww frroooo. Like he's
breathing through a mask. Perhaps he is. I wonder if my grandparents
will die. And if they do will people find out? Do my Grandparents have
wine blood like me? Or is their blood green? That is if they have
blood! Will they remove my Granddad's mask? Will they find out what
makes Gran smell?

I hear sometimes the language they use, their native tongue I expect.
These words make no sense, not to me anyway. Perhaps they will teach me
when I am older. Or perhaps I already know it and have forgotten. Like
my eight times table, I used to know that but have now forgotten. These
words generally spill when the sugar's wonky container falls on the
floor. Or when they knock themselves on the sideboard in the mornings
trying to get the paper before the dog does. Or when they have
forgotten to shut the garage door and next doors cat messes all over
the place. But I wonder why this planet? And am I really theirs? Is
there any hope for me in this alien land?

Last week when I was quite convinced after finding that Michael Mires
had two lumps where I didn't right there at the top of his chest. Well
I have small lumps but not proper human ones like his. So I set upon my
quest. Alone in my room, I closed the curtains tight, didn't want to
give any humans a fright. I pulled and I pulled at my unnatural skin,
to uncover the monster that lies within. I could not do it, the power I
could not find. There must be a special way, a key or an inhuman sound.
I thought of some of those sounds they used when they forgot I was
there. When unguarded their native language flows freely in this human
air. 'bludj-flk-bgrn-sd' was the one they used most often. I said it
out loud; I said it through my teeth, with my tongue still and with my
eyes shut tight! I said it with my fingers crossed and my light out. I
said it slowly under my bedcovers with a torch at my chin. All to no
avail, I could not find, I could not see, the real alien boy hiding
inside of me.

I sleep with my curtains open looking out at the stars. Imagining my
planet is not too far. Not like superman's I hope not destroyed. I
think my planet must be out there and my parents are obviously alien
spies.