*PREFACE*
There are aliens among us.
And yes, I am one of them.
But I am not what you should fear.
There is, however, a small band of vicious extraterrestrial warriors, my enemies, also on this planet, and they are preparing to do the entire human race, as well as my people, a great annihilative harm. Of them you should be terrified.
My allies and I are here to protect us all.
And yes, of course, I know that sounds ridiculous and self-aggrandizing.
But that, unfortunately, does not make it untrue.
# # #
It has been said that most humans have forgotten their infinite natures because they can no longer see the stars at night; that the light of the land has become too bright and the sky overhead so dark and chaotic, that mortals can no longer make out the gods and angels swirling about in the heavens above. Meanwhile, the earth’s gravity pulls them towards its fiery core.
This is what happened to me.
But then I was reborn. As an alien.
What follows is an account of my resurrection.
# # #
What you must understand is that when I first committed this story to paper, it was not of my own volition. I was coerced.
A mere three days after surviving a collision with the Space Shuttle Columbia and all the hells that followed, I was taken into custody by the American authorities. I was detained. I was distraught. I was weakened.
I was still acclimating to my new human body, a corpse I had newly entered and reanimated. So I did what the government officials demanded of me, which was to describe the events I had experienced.
Initially, of course, I had been opposed to creating such an accessible, reproducible document that could be exploited by my enemies. So my first instinct was to lie. And although I can be a formidable liar when I must, at the time of my capture I was not certain if I could create a convincing false narrative that would serve my purpose. My fear was that my true adversaries, the alien-combatants from my home planet, would use this journal to locate and destroy me.
But then I realized I could use my current situation to my advantage. I could present my account as an augury, a warning. That is, once I realized the true version of my story might serve an even larger purpose in the years to come, I decided to cooperate fully in its documentation. My plan was to secret the manuscript out with me upon my release, and then, when the time was right, to have it made known.
So I wrote this report for the state-appointed doctors, knowing they would not believe it. No doubt they would see me as a slightly delusional trauma case, which they did. Believing this was my way of dealing with the brutal murder of my fiancé, (or more accurately, the fiancé of my human host), they held me in observation and under suspicion for only two short weeks, prescribed a few standard medications, and then released me back into the general population.
My hope is that by making these words public, those who are ready to receive them, will.
Thus, I am appealing to your sense of reason as well as to your instinct for survival, so when the day arrives, you will be ready to join our side, the side of righteousness.
Thus, as you navigate these pages, I pose this question to you, the same one I asked myself during my first hours of assimilation:
When everything you possess is stripped away, what exactly lies at your core; what is your essence?
We may very well be approaching a new age of enlightenment or one of complete annihilation. Either is possible. But the choice, as they say, is yours.
Or it is so for now, at least.
