He Told Me I Was An Alien

Chapter 1

“Are you listening to me?”

His older brother was speaking, but at some point he had stopped listening.

“Kirren? I’m talking to you.”

The other high school boys always pronounced his name as “Karen”—just to be mean. For a time, he had started placing an “e” after the “i” in order to help others understand the pronunciation, but it didn’t make a difference. His pale skin, ice blue eyes, and blond hair meant that he stood out no matter what they called him.

“Look, I’m just trying to help,” Dellas continued, “to give you a better idea of what to expect. If you don’t want to listen…”

That was why he stopped listening. Dellas had told him that things were going to change, that he—a regular high school student—would soon change in a very physical way. And he was not referring to puberty. Well, he was, but not in the traditional sense. The whole “becoming a man” thing somehow bypassed Kirren—which was another reason he was picked on—but according to Dellas, that was about to change. He would physically “mature” but it would be in a less human way.

Dellas had actually used the word human as if it were an unnatural term. The phrasing startled Kirren and ever since then his concentration had slipped. If his brother had been more of a jokester, he would not have given the matter much thought, but Dellas was sincere—always. He did not kid around or make light of things. He spoke truth or did not speak at all.

“Listen, if you want my advice…”

Kirren’s voice cracked as if unused. “I do.”

“I know that what I’m saying is a lot, but you need to hear it.” Dellas’s eyes and skin were as pale as Kirren’s, but his hair was darker and there were deeper flecks of green and gold in his irises that Kirren did not remember noticing before. Or maybe he had and just brushed it off.

Kirren nodded. He trusted Dellas, just like he had trusted his mother when he showed her the green patches on either side of his neck. It was not obvious enough for others to see, but he had seen them darken over the past few days. Apparently, after telling him he would be fine, she had called Dellas. His brother was at their northern lake house the next day.

Kirren could not bring himself to look at his sibling. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re saying I’m an alien.”

Dellas glanced out the screen of their three-seasoned porch. The sky was cloudy and the wind cold. It was too late in the year to enjoy the space properly, but the pounding of the November waves on the rock-lined shore was a good way to cover their conversation.

The factual tone of Dellas’s voice grew pensive. “You don’t remember the crash. You were too young—still cocooned in a preservation shell. But I remember hitting the water. I remember the cold leaking in.” He faced Kirren. Almost six years lay between them yet Dellas never let that separate them.

“You don’t remember Marra either. You never met her—not really. She was a few years older than me and she… she didn’t make it out.” His eyes met Kirren’s as his fingers peeled back the cowl-necked sweater he wore.

Beneath the folds, Kirren could see a patch of green running down the side of Dellas’s neck. It wasn’t dark like a hunter green, but was darker than the ones on his own neck and gashed in three slanting lines. Dellas’s eyes were on him. Then with a sudden inhale, the gashes flipped open and closed like the gills on a fish.

Kirren’s hands moved to his own neck as his eyes widened. Pain grew in his chest as if he had been punched. With a tremble, his fingers slipped to his arms. The same green tinge had appeared on his forearms the day before.

Dellas let go of his collar and pulled back his left sleeve. Two more gashes sliced across his outer arm. A fold of skin, delicate and lacy in appearance, protruded from each like the wings of an insect tucked in for the night.

“You’ll get them on your lower legs as well. More gills will cover the sides of your chest.”

Kirren hugged himself, cringing at the revelation and idea of what was about to happen to him. It made him feel faint and nauseous. He rubbed his lower arms.

“Kirren.” Dellas took a step closer then stopped as Kirren countered back. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but the transition… it’s not easy. It takes time and is…”

Painful? Kirren could only image what it would feel like for his skin to be ripped open so gills and fins could develop. Already the irritation on his neck and arms was a constant itch.

“I want to be there for you when it happens,” Dellas continued, “but I’m not going to force myself in. If you’d rather face this alone, it’s your choice.”

Kirren felt blood pound in his head and ears. There was a rush of cold in the sides of his neck, chest, arms, and legs. Everywhere that would soon change throbbed. It now made sense why Dellas always wore long sleeves and pants, why he never swam in the open without a full bodysuit. Soon he would need to do the same.

“Why didn’t you…” Kirren cleared his throat, trying to dislodge his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” He could not look at his brother. The fact that Dellas knew what he was—what they both were—and never once said anything felt like a betrayal. It was a lie he never imagined or dreamed would come from his own kin. And there had been a girl too? Was she related to them? “Why wait till now—when I’m on edge of whatever is going to happen—to tell me?”

Dellas inhaled the cold air with an uneasy shrug. “It never seemed like the right time. And after awhile I stopped thinking about it.” He glanced at Kirren. “We were living a normal life. We had a home and a family, people that cared about us. I didn’t even consider what was next until I started feeling the things you are right now. I never meant to keep it from you.”

“But you did.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

Kirren rubbed his arms again. “And Mom and Dad… they know?”

“They knew something was different when they found us on the shore, but I don’t think they fully understood what until I got sick.”

Kirren gazed at his brother. Both of them had been able to avoid the illnesses common to most children. For most of their lives they remained in good health. Then five years ago, before Dellas went to college, that all changed. It had gotten so bad that their mom had taken Kirren to a friend’s house to stay. Almost a month later he was allowed to return home.

Dellas had been distant and more brooding in his mannerisms. He became more secluded, spending more time outside than in. And his wardrobe had changed. Their parents said little about the incident, but for a few weeks there had been a sense that something drastic occurred. Kirren assumed it was because Dellas almost died—but now he knew better.

He licked his lips. “You should’ve told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I intended too, but I also knew that once you knew… well, there would be a lot that would change for you.”

Kirren started at the worn floorboards. The cool air felt good on his flushed cheeks. “How long do I have?”

Dellas shrugged. “Soon. That’s all I can say. You’ll know when it starts.”

“I assume you’ve already talked to Mom about this.”

“She called me, remember?”

Right. So now everyone was going to be standing around just waiting for him to morph. How much more awkward were things going to get?

Chapter 2

Kirren sat at the kitchen table and stared out the window. Dellas was outside pitching rocks into the lake that was less than a mile from the back of their house. He envied his brother, not because he was older, but because he already went through whatever was about to happen to him. The experience would be the same, Kirren knew, but the fact that it was done for Dellas and his “maturing” lay just ahead was maddening. It made him nervous just thinking about it.

Kirren scratched the side of neck. The green color had darkened again. His lower calves now sported the same shaded splotch as his neck and forearms. Beneath his flesh a set of ridges was forming and they itched nonstop.

“Stop scratching.” His mom brushed his hand aside then set a plate of toast on the table. Kirren dropped his hands beneath its lacquered surface and formed fists. He couldn’t help it. His body was doing things he wished it would stop. His eyes narrowed as Dellas chucked another stone.

“Doesn’t it bother you that we’re… aliens?”

His mother—a pale, middle-aged woman with curly brown hair and just a hint of gray—turned from the pan of eggs on the stove. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, I just found out and it bothers me.” He stared at the toast. “Did it bother you when you found out about Dellas?”

She pushed her spatula beneath one of the eggs. “It was a little different with your brother. At the time, we didn’t know what he was, or what you were. We just knew he was sick and the symptoms weren’t… normal.” She removed one of the eggs. “Your dad and I both agreed that if we took him to a hospital there was a good chance we might never see him again. So, we thought it best to keep him here. We just didn’t know what that would mean for you.”

“So you sent me away and didn’t bother to tell me what happened, I mean, afterward.” His eyes sought hers as she set a plate of eggs in front of him.

“We thought it best that Dellas tell you. He is your brother.”

“And you’re my mom. You should’ve told me. Someone should’ve told me what was going on.”

“Kirren.” She sat across from him, her body tense with expectation instead of fear or nervousness. “I’m not like you. I will never understand what you’re going through or what your brother went through. I don’t know how to answer your questions about your past and where you came from, neither does your dad.” Her eyes strayed out the window. “Dellas doesn’t know everything, but he knows more than we do.” She folded her arms on the table. “We didn’t force your brother to speak more of things than he wished, which is why we thought it best to let him share what he knew with you instead of us trying to explain things we don’t know or don’t understand. I’m sorry if you don’t agree.”

Kirren huffed. “It’s not that I don’t agree. It’s just that Dellas didn’t share anything with me. I didn’t find out about all of this,” he waved at his neck and arm, “about what I am, until just now. How am I supposed to face what’s coming if I don’t know what all of this is?”

“But I thought Dellas and you talked.”

“We talked now, now that I’m about to turn into some sort of monster.” He pulled his sleeve back and ran his palm over the raised lines.

His mother stilled his hand. “You are not a monster.”

“But I’m not human.” The words felt like bile in his throat. He pulled away from her then rubbed his other arm. “I just wish I’d known before.”

“Kirren.” She tried to catch his eyes, but he would not look up at her. “You know that the fact you’re not human doesn’t make a difference in how much your father and I love you. You know that, don’t you? Kirren?”

He grunted.

Her sigh was heavy as she sat back. “Suppose Dellas did say something to you earlier, would you have believed him?”

Kirren dug his elbow into the table. “I don’t know, but that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“That he didn’t even try. How hard would it have been for him to do that?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” She stood with an apologetic smile. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“Yeah, right.” Kirren moved both hands to his neck so he could rub the developing lines. “I don’t think he’s going to tell me anything else.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Do you know who Marra is?”

His mother glanced at him from across the kitchen. “No, who’s that?”

“I don’t know. Dellas knew her from before, but he’s not real forthcoming when I ask about her.”

“Well, maybe you should give him some time.”

“He’s had time.” He dropped his hands to the table. “I’m the one who doesn’t have time. Dellas said things would happen soon. How am I supposed to know what that means? Is it tomorrow or next week? Soon could be a month or a year from now.” He dug his fist into his eye sockets. There was a deep ache developing behind each one. He groaned. Along with the irritation of his skin, a pressure grew in his chest and forehead.

He pushed the plates back and tabled his head in his arms. His mother’s hand was on his temple a moment later.

“Kirren?” She knelt next to him. “Kirren, I need you to look at me.”

Kirren raised his head and squinted at her. His breath was heightened and it hurt to keep his eyes open all the way. “I don’t feel so good.”

His mother went to the sink then came back with a rag and bucket. “Marcus!” She banged on the window until Dellas turned around. Their dad walked into the kitchen a moment later. A tall muscular man with short brown hair and a bushy beard, Kirren always thought his dad looked more like a lumberjack model than the data analyst he was.

His mom turned back from waving Dellas inside and Kirren grabbed the bucket from her before hurling twice. She wiped his mouth turned to her husband. “I think it’s started.”

Chapter 3

The room boiled with heat. Kirren was not sure if everyone else felt it, but he was sure he was about to melt. Sweat bathed his chest and forehead. His arms and legs were slick. Chills ran through his muscles and he could feel each one clench and release in random spasms.

The room was dark except for a dim light in the corner, but even that seemed to be too bright. He panted through his clenched teeth then gasped as a cool hand touched his forehead.

Kirren’s eyes widened as he tried to focus on the figure next to him. 

Dellas’s face was calm, his movements slow as he brushed hair from Kirren’s face.

A gentle squeeze assured Kirren that his brother still held his hand. He groaned. The pain in his back and sides made his vision sway. Every part of his skin felt like it was being stretched. It needed to break and release from the pressure but it would not budge. He exhaled in a rush.

“You’re doing fine.”

Dellas’s voice seemed to echo in his head. Kirren wanted nothing more than to punch him, but he could barely lift a finger. He had never before felt such pain. He wanted to scream but knew it would take too much energy. All he could do was tell himself to breathe over and over again. Dellas was telling him that too, but again, Kirren just wanted to smack him. New lungs and aquatic advancements were not worth this.

He moaned as another tremor shook his core. The pressure in his sides increased.

A shadow entered the room. Their mom. Worry filled her eyes as she held out a cup of water.

“How is he?”

Dellas gazed at Kirren before placing his fingers on the side of his brother’s neck. Kirren gasped at the coolness of his touch. He could feel each thump of his heart pound against Dellas’s fingertips.

“It shouldn’t be long.” Dellas took the cup from her with a “thanks” then set it on the side table. 

Kirren rolled his head on the pillow. He had been in bed for days now. But there was no way for him to know how many as each was more pronounced than the last—more painful and less distinct. He could not tell how long he had been lying down or when he last made it to the bathroom. Food was no longer acceptable and the few sips of water he managed caused him to cough and sputter. He wanted to die. He wanted the pressure to end. Even if the process tore him apart, at least there would be an end.

“I know it hurts…”

They were alone again and Dellas was talking.

“It’ll be done soon.”

Kirren hacked a small laugh. He wanted to accuse Dellas of not understanding, but his brother had gone through the same thing. If Dellas could get through this and survive then so could he. Kirren just wasn’t convinced he wanted to. If making it through “maturity”—as Dellas called it—meant there would be aftereffects to deal with then this would not be over soon. He would need to learn how to live again. He would need to figure out who he even was. But this time he would do so as an outsider, an alien in a world he thought was his own.

A sudden pang shot through Kirren’s body like an oversized needle. He sucked in a tight breath as a second and third followed. He squirmed on the bed, his limbs shaking as his muscles spasmed. It felt like his nerves were being seared.

Dellas stood next to the bed, his hand still clasped in Kirren’s sweaty palm. “Hang in there.” His eyes were full of concerned anticipation.

The worry and excitement in his eyes scared Kirren.

A tear slipped from Kirren’s eye as he blinked at his brother.

“I know.” Dellas’s voice became hard to hear. “You’re almost there.”

But the trembling did not cease. The burning only intensified. It felt like there was something moving inside of Kirren trying to get out. The pressure in his neck, arms, and legs was immense, but it was the pain in his chest that caused him to gasp. He couldn’t breathe. His whole world was on fire. He was on fire!

Then the sides of his neck began to part, the same happening on his arms and legs. Kirren thrashed on the bed, his back arching as he tried to gulp air. Others were in the room now but he could no longer see them. His eyes were blurred by tears and his throat was raw from screaming. A cold towel was pressed to his chest and an audible pop exploded in the back of his skull. Air rushed into his lungs but not through his throat. It seeped in through his sides, between his ribs and the membrane that had broken through his skin.

In a heap, Kirren collapsed on the bed. His mouth was wide, his eyes unfocused. His fingers clenched and unclenched, but he could feel nothing beyond the haze of release. Something had snapped inside of him. Something had finally broken through. And it took all of his energy with it.