When I was a child, my mother would tell me stories about the humans. She once told me that long ago, the humans invaded our home planet, Forea, so that they could dig beneath the surface and study our culture. While on our planet, the Foreans started to die from a disease they called Influenza. By the time we found a cure, half of the population had died. The people of Forea were furious and started to hunt down the humans for the injustice they had done to our planet. The problem was that the humans looked almost exactly like Foreans. The only difference was that their blood was red. The people of Forea succeeded in ridding the planet of humans and have lived in peace for over a thousand years.
Of course, this is a children's bedtime story. It was a story that would terrify me as a child. As I got older, I realized how silly it was. When I was attending school, there was always a kid who claimed he had seen a human, but no one believed him. Almost seven years after graduation, I would've claimed the same thing.
My philosophy is if life offers something different, go for it. But most of the time when something different happens, I get too scared. Only a few times have I followed through. I bought my own house, went to nursing school, landed a good nursing job, but that’s about it. I love my job, but it's nights when I stay overtime that grind my gears. I get tired, and I’m not at my best--like right now as I drive home from work. I shouldn’t even be driving because I keep catching myself drifting off, only to wake up from other cars honking as I swerve. I start drifting off again but am suddenly awakened by a scream from behind me. In a panic, I look back and see a man looking at me in the back of my car. I slam on my brakes and swerve off the side of the road.
“WHAT THE STARS, WHO ARE YOU!?!” I scream.
“Oh nuts, I’m so sorry!” he says in surprise.
“Well, you should be! You scared the crap out of me! Who even are you?” I ask.
“I, um, my name is Clement, but people just call me Lemon,” he assures me.
“I don’t care what people call you! What are you doing in my car?” I ask.
“I, um, was hoping you could help me. I need medical attention,” he admits.
“Dude, why? We just left the hospital! Why didn’t you go there instead of my car?” I ask.
“Look, I can’t, because if I do, they will kill me,” he explains. I give him a confused look, and he continues. “I promise I won’t hurt you, can we just get to your house so I can explain?”
I take a long moment to think of what I have to lose. I realize I don't have anything to lose. I give him one long stare as a warning before I turn around and drive away. The rest of the drive home is silent. I keep stealing looks through the mirrors, only to find him looking at me. I finally manage to pull up to my house and park my car inside the garage. I just sit in my car as the overhead door is closing, and I remain silent for a few minutes before I speak.
“Explain,” I demand.
“Okay. You know the myth about the humans?” he asks. I silently nod, and he continues. “Well, what if I told you that humans are real?” I shoot him an exasperated look, but he keeps talking. “Yes, they are real. Do you want proof? Look at my leg.” I peer over the car seat and see a bullet lodged in his leg, which is covered in red water--but it's not water. It's blood.
“Oh my stars,” I gasp. “Why is your blood red and not purple?”
“Because I'm human,” he says. “When the Foreans were executing the humans, a handful of them were able to escape the persecution. They have been able to reproduce and find a way to disguise themselves by developing a way to temporarily change the color of their blood. My friend shot me during an argument, so I ran. I had to find a way to get help, so I went to the hospital parking lot and looked for a car that was unlocked. That's how I ended up here.”
“Ok, Lemon. I’ll help you, but you have to promise me that if you EVER get caught, you will leave me out of the story. Capiche?” I ask.
“Capiche. I never got your name, though,” he says.
“Maybe I don't want you to know it,” I say.
“Your name tag is still on, Miriam,” he says, annoyed. Out of surprise, I fumble with my name tag and throw it in my bag. “Beautiful name for a beautiful creature,” he sings.
“Let's just get inside,” I stutter. He says okay, and I help him out of the car, slinging his arm over my shoulder. I lead him over to a chair by the kitchen table and start to look for the first aid kit. In my frenzy, I take a small moment to calm down and look up to find Lemon smiling at me. Not knowing what else to do, I smile back.
Of course, this is a children's bedtime story. It was a story that would terrify me as a child. As I got older, I realized how silly it was. When I was attending school, there was always a kid who claimed he had seen a human, but no one believed him. Almost seven years after graduation, I would've claimed the same thing.
My philosophy is if life offers something different, go for it. But most of the time when something different happens, I get too scared. Only a few times have I followed through. I bought my own house, went to nursing school, landed a good nursing job, but that’s about it. I love my job, but it's nights when I stay overtime that grind my gears. I get tired, and I’m not at my best--like right now as I drive home from work. I shouldn’t even be driving because I keep catching myself drifting off, only to wake up from other cars honking as I swerve. I start drifting off again but am suddenly awakened by a scream from behind me. In a panic, I look back and see a man looking at me in the back of my car. I slam on my brakes and swerve off the side of the road.
“WHAT THE STARS, WHO ARE YOU!?!” I scream.
“Oh nuts, I’m so sorry!” he says in surprise.
“Well, you should be! You scared the crap out of me! Who even are you?” I ask.
“I, um, my name is Clement, but people just call me Lemon,” he assures me.
“I don’t care what people call you! What are you doing in my car?” I ask.
“I, um, was hoping you could help me. I need medical attention,” he admits.
“Dude, why? We just left the hospital! Why didn’t you go there instead of my car?” I ask.
“Look, I can’t, because if I do, they will kill me,” he explains. I give him a confused look, and he continues. “I promise I won’t hurt you, can we just get to your house so I can explain?”
I take a long moment to think of what I have to lose. I realize I don't have anything to lose. I give him one long stare as a warning before I turn around and drive away. The rest of the drive home is silent. I keep stealing looks through the mirrors, only to find him looking at me. I finally manage to pull up to my house and park my car inside the garage. I just sit in my car as the overhead door is closing, and I remain silent for a few minutes before I speak.
“Explain,” I demand.
“Okay. You know the myth about the humans?” he asks. I silently nod, and he continues. “Well, what if I told you that humans are real?” I shoot him an exasperated look, but he keeps talking. “Yes, they are real. Do you want proof? Look at my leg.” I peer over the car seat and see a bullet lodged in his leg, which is covered in red water--but it's not water. It's blood.
“Oh my stars,” I gasp. “Why is your blood red and not purple?”
“Because I'm human,” he says. “When the Foreans were executing the humans, a handful of them were able to escape the persecution. They have been able to reproduce and find a way to disguise themselves by developing a way to temporarily change the color of their blood. My friend shot me during an argument, so I ran. I had to find a way to get help, so I went to the hospital parking lot and looked for a car that was unlocked. That's how I ended up here.”
“Ok, Lemon. I’ll help you, but you have to promise me that if you EVER get caught, you will leave me out of the story. Capiche?” I ask.
“Capiche. I never got your name, though,” he says.
“Maybe I don't want you to know it,” I say.
“Your name tag is still on, Miriam,” he says, annoyed. Out of surprise, I fumble with my name tag and throw it in my bag. “Beautiful name for a beautiful creature,” he sings.
“Let's just get inside,” I stutter. He says okay, and I help him out of the car, slinging his arm over my shoulder. I lead him over to a chair by the kitchen table and start to look for the first aid kit. In my frenzy, I take a small moment to calm down and look up to find Lemon smiling at me. Not knowing what else to do, I smile back.
"This is an idea inspired by what a friend of mine said, and I just had to write it down. Several times I had to start over, or rewrite a whole section more than once, but the finished result ended up to be better than I thought." - Samantha Down, 11th grade, Lincoln East High School.