An alien's plight.

He buried his head in his hands and sobbed. He hadn’t known what he’d done. He lost it. The others around stared in confusion as Zorbok hopped into his small one-manned fighter and powered up the nuclear fission engine. The flash and blorp of neutrinos racing close to light speed made a soft hum. Zorbok stared at the dead Detile and secured his hatch. His daughter came racing to find her mother, Bilork dead on the ground. Zorbok gave one last look towards his daughter and took off into the cosmos. If he stayed, he would have been court martial and executed. The last king to be killed was during the Gellite rebellion 2000 years ago.  Thinking through this, he starts to rub his temples, trying to make magic happen, like rubbing a genie lamp. The only problem is—no genie came out of his head. That didn’t stop the voices in his head from returning either. Upset at this, he storms down the stairs and busts through the front door for some fresh air. “Ah, that’s better,” he says, breathing in the smog, reveling in the chaos of a typical Flatbush Ave summer day. “The park, that’s where I’ll go. I’ll find a puppy to eat. Or maybe a dog. No, mustn’t kill pets. Pets are man’s best friend. Man’s best friend is all he has, all he has in the world. That’s the problem, if you have no one else to turn to, then you only know what you know. How would you be able to “think outside the lines” if the only line you knew was your line. How would you be able to put yourself in someone else’s shoes if you’ve only worn your shoes?  I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the bank. I wished they would give me the chance to pay them off I was one month away from losing my home and all I wanted was a loan. This would secure a place for my children and I to live but these white folks do not care, unless you already have money.

See now the one thing that is fucked up about this world we live in, is the social class system. Why should our social status determine who we are or better yet what we can become? No and I will not let that define me. I don’t care who the system says I ought to be I am what I feel. No one can look at me without knowing me and making a judgment. I will go to the capital if I had to I will be heard.

SO, I went up to the town hall to protest my case. “I demand justice” I yelled out to everyone in the main lobby as if I were a crazy person, but I didn’t like to think of myself so poorly so I said YOLO and made an impact. I didn’t care what everyone else thought of me; I just wanted to give them a piece of my mind. But then I thought why give them a piece of my mind. “Do they really deserve to hear my opinion if all they’re going to do is shut it down?” Stupid, close-minded people.

Zorbok was done with humans. He withdrew into his pod ship and returned home, his odyssey was complete and maybe his daughter would take him back in. All he knew is that it would be a long time home.