I'm different.

I've always known this. And it will never change.

People have treated me like i'm human. Like i'm one of them. It would make sense to anyone else to be called a person because that's what they are. But for me, that's not the truth.

Everyone has their secrets, and I have mine. The only problem is mine are absolutely dangerous and no one can know about them. These secrets are what make me, well, me. Jaelynn Hunter. Or Jae. Whatever works for people. My fake identity since I was five years old. Yup. Fake. F-A-K-E. It drives me nuts when people say my parents should be proud of what i've accomplished when truly, the people standing beside me aren't my birth-parents. Saige isn't my mother. Daveed isn't my father. And it's truly sad that I have to nod and fake a smile, saying "Yes! My parents are going to be so proud." when it's not true.

One of my crummy secrets. A upsetting thought that would be awkward to tell anyone. Saige and Daveed aren't my parents. My family is all dead, pushing up the daisies. On another planet of all things too. That just makes my life sound crappier than it truly is, and my life is a garden of roses with a lot of thorns. And when I say a lot, I mean a dump truck full of them.

I was born of the stars. In other words, i'm an alien. An extraterrestrial. Whatever people want to call it now days. But unlike the aliens humans believe in, i'm not green and my race isn't super insane or bent on wiping out the human race. I'm from a dead planet, or also known as a planet that died out because of something horrible misused it. I won't remember Lorien, my home planet, for that. But sometimes I can't even remember it at all.

Lorien isn't a total mystery to me. I'm not Sherlock Holmes, but I do know what happened based on stories and fractured memories pieced together like a puzzle. Daydreaming also helps. But Lorien was a beautiful planet. A peaceful planet that only waged war if it had to. I barely remember my true family, even though they were the ones that (almost) raised me even though they weren't supposed to with Loric culture. In the culture, the grandparents were supposed to be the ones to raise the children, but mine on both sides were dead from sickness or something. So my parents raised me. At least, that's what Daveed told me. The planet was a paradise for everything. Families lived and thrived like the ones here on earth. I love when Lorien is described to me again and again. Those are the memories I try not to ever forget for how priceless they are to me.

And then they came.

By they, I mean the Mogadarians. The really idiotic, ruthless race of aliens that have no respect for anything other than their Great Leader (who is full of bullshit) and weapons. You know how if someone accidentally kicked a puppy, they would pick it up and love it to death? A Mog would squash it like a bug and keep walking like it's no big deal when that is a freaking terrifying sight to any normal being. Mogs don't care. They are emotionless, empty vats of depressing but horrifying goop. That's why no one expected them to crash a party. What were "fireworks" were explosions and what was a celebration turned into a bloodbath. Armies came by the thousands, slaughtering innocent men and children where the stood. Families were fighting or running for their lives. The people who could fight, called the Garde, did the best they could as the Mogs destroyed a beautiful land. The Garde fought, but the Mogs were stronger.

My people were wiped out in vain. Died for a cause that didn't even solve the overwhelming hunger of the Mogadarians. The only hope for our slightly extinct race were the ten Garde children and ten adult Cepans that escaped on a ship to earth.

Okay.

To be totally truthful, I wasn't part of the ten. Another idiotic secret that isn't as bad as the others, but still hurts. While Lorien was burning, I was run by my mother and two Cepans, Saige and Daveed, to a ship at the edge of the overwhelming forest with a tiny baby girl named Ella and a stable boy named Crayton that would be Ella's Cepan and enough supplies to make it to earth and our Inheritances, or so called Chests. Plus two Chimeras. It would of been fine and I would of still been an innocent daughter if a group of Mogs hadn't found the ship and my mother had gotten on. But she didn't, and was murdered in front of me.

I know it's a gruesome memory, but I think about sometimes to remember my mother's face, even though parts have faded over time. I don't remember how she died. Sometimes it's a bullet. Others, its a stab wound from a thrown knife. But every single time, the memory ends with her collapsing to the ground as Ella's parents start to defend themselves as we took off.

Then we left. Just like that. I would never see that once beautiful place that I called home again. Lorien was in shambles. Destroyed. Turned to a world of ash and dust. All of the resources sucked out of it like lemonade from a glass. And I was and am officially an orphan of war.

Every time I think about it, I want go back to that planet that died under my small feet, bathed in innocent blood. I want to breathe it's air and feel it run through my lungs. I would give anything to go back and fix things. Set up life there once again. But I can't because of who I am.

That's the thing.

I've always believe I can do anything I set my mind to, but my scars from that day never leave with the impression of never going back. I mean, the humans haven't even gotten farther than the moon! How would I get back? Maybe i'll never go back, which is heartbreaking to think about.

Mainly, I hate being a square peg in the midst of round holes.

But at least i'm not alone.