"D'ya think aliens really exist?"
he stares curiously up at his older brother as they sat together on the side of a grassy hill. The night air was slightly chilly and damp, and he shivered as he regretted leaving his jacket back at home.

"What kind of question is that? Of course they do," his brother responded, no sarcasm evident in his voice. It was a bit surprising to hear him say it so plainly, as if it were common knowledge. The brother looked down to meet the younger's gaze. "Why are you looking at me like that? I'm serious."

He was astonished. Had his brother really known this whole time and not told him? It seemed almost cruel to keep such a secret hidden, especially since they were siblings. "Really? How d'ya know?"

"Oh, come on! The universe is huge, probably even infinite! What are the chances that Earth is the only planet out there that has life? I'd say it's more unlikely that aliens don't exist," the older continued, his expression turning to one of frustration. Common when he tried to have a somewhat deep conversation with his little brother.

"Huh... I didn't think'a that! Yeah, aliens totally exist!" he beamed, excited to finally have a valid reason to believe in them. While others laughed and told him they were only fantasy, his older brother actually took him seriously! And his brother was the smartest person he knew! "D'ya think we could meet an alien someday?"

"Who knows?" the preteen boy smirked at his sibling's fascination with space. Something it seemed he would never outgrow. "Maybe one day, a space ship will come down on our planet and we'll get to meet them. It could happen any time."

"Wow, that's so cool! I'd love to meet some aliens! And their spaceship! And their planet, too! I wonder if they'd look like us, or somethin' super crazy like in the movies?" the boy went off on an excited tangent, many questions racing through his head as he imagined the event. For a child his age, he was clever. He may have come off as an idiot to some, but he was actually quite intelligent. The thoughts that occurred to him were things most kids didn't put much thought into. He was curious and intrigued by nearly every subject that he came across. When asked how he knew so much, he would simply respond with, "I wanna be as smart as my brother someday!"

"Ah, it's getting late. We'd better get back home so we don't miss dinner," said brother piped up, looking down at his over-sized watch. It had been a hand-me-down from their late father, and although his wrist was far too small to fit it properly, he never went a day without wearing it. The little one stopped his reverie mid-sentence, turning to face the other with a deflated expression.

"Aww, d'we haft'a? I'm not even that hungry..." he whined, fake tears beading in the corners of his baby blue eyes.

"Yes, we 'hafta', we'll get in trouble if we don't. Plus, I've got actual work to do, thank you very much!" the elder replied, sighing a bit too dramatically as he stood from his seated position, lending a hand to his brother to rise as well.

"Mmm, fine..." the boy grumbled, taking the support offered to him.

As they began the walk back to their home, Alfred took one last glance behind him at the vast expanse of night sky. Out of the corner of his vision, he could have sworn he saw a shooting star whiz past.

"Al, just tell me what's wrong!" Arthur insisted, trailing behind the taller man as they made their way home from school. They rarely took the bus, preferring to walk and enjoy the scenery as opposed to sitting in a cramped, loud bus full of aggressive jocks and screaming girls. Today, however, Alfred was not taking his time; rather, he was strolling along at as fast a pace as possible without full-on running all the way to their destination. This, along with his refusal to speak, signaled something was very wrong with the blond.

"Nothing. Just wanna get home. 'M hungry," Alfred replied quickly, not turning to face the other as he continued his fast pace. If he could just get home... if he could just get home, he could lock himself in his room with his computer and his books. He wouldn't have to worry about being made fun of when there was no one around to see him.

"You're hungry all the time. Just talk to me, okay? You can't just keep running away from everything like this," he continued, determined to get Alfred to open up. Ever since the 10th grade, he had been withdrawing further and further from the world, choosing to hide away in his room with his hobbies. The whole family was worried about him, yet no one could get him to explain. It frustrated Arthur that his brother wouldn't even talk to his own family, and he was aiming to change that.

"There's nothing to say! Jus' had a bad day, 's all..." he mumbled the last part, though Arthur could hear it just fine. Had a bad day? But he had seemed so energetic this morning... what had happened today during school? He went to press further, however he trailed off once he realized their house was now in view. Looks like he wasn't able to get anything today, either.

As soon as the brothers walked into their home, Alfred rushed past their mother and upstairs, the sound of his bedroom door closing echoing throughout the small space. Arthur simply sighed, removing his jacket and hanging it up neatly in the small coat closet to the right of the front door. He turned to his mother, who had her gaze fixated on the staircase her son had just ascended, her expression somber. Gently, Arthur placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned to him slowly, her eyes full of questions. 'Why is he so sad?' 'Why won't he talk to us?' 'What did I do wrong?' but her son shook his head slowly, a sad smile on his face. "It's not your fault, mum. You've always been supportive of Alfred, and he knows it."

Her head dipped towards the ground again, her long, faded blonde hair draping down and hiding her face from view. In a weak, slightly trembling voice, she spoke to her oldest son without looking up towards him. "So why is he keeping all this to himself? Why won't he let us know what's wrong so we can help him? I don't understand," she muttered, Arthur beginning to fear she would begin crying. With another sigh, he reassured his mother as best he could, leading her over to the couch in their living room and providing her with some freshly-brewed tea. He was luckily able to lighten her mood by conversing about random subjects, though an air of melancholy seemed to hang over the occupants of the home. 'I don't understand, either. Alfred, just what are you doing?'

Finally, some peace and quiet. As soon as the lock clicked behind him, Alfred flung his backpack and jacket haphazardly onto his bed, continuing around it over to his desk on the opposite wall. There, he had everything he needed to relax and forget about his stress; his computer, full of games and endless entertainment, his books, which he had read cover to cover many times yet still managed to fascinate him, and finally, his collection of various rocks, fossils, and other miscellaneous archaeological items. He could stare at his findings for hours on end, marveling the mystery and history behind each piece.

Come nightfall, he would be able to go stargazing, as he usually does when he has time to spare. Ever since he was young, the stars provided a sort of comfort. He never felt truly alone when laying under the twinkling night sky. It was as if all those stars were planets just like Earth, and their inhabitants were looking back at Earth as just another dot in the inky black sky. It made him feel small, but he didn't mind. He wanted attention directed away from him, after all. It would be nice to simply fit into the background with all the other stars. Like one infinite family floating together in space.

Without realizing it, tears had begun to form in his eyes and were trickling slowly down his cheek. With a melancholy sigh, he wiped his face on the sleeve of his shirt. Thinking so deeply made his heart hurt too much, and his mind tired and fuzzy. Maybe he could take a nap until nighttime? It would mean missing dinner with Arthur and his mother, but he figured he would only serve to worsen their moods if he were around. Lately, they had seemed so worried about his sudden depressed mood.

He felt so horribly guilty. A sharp pang in his chest brought more tears to form at the corners of his eyes. They were so concerned for him; they loved him and wanted him to be happy. But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get rid of these horrible feelings. He couldn't be happy, even when he spent time with them. It's all his fault that they're so sad now, if he could just quit being so weak...

He stood once more from his desk, walking over to his bed and pushing his belongings onto the floor with a dull thud. Once the bed was clear, he removed his school clothes and put on a simple undershirt, crawling under the inviting covers with a contented sigh. He could hear his mother and Arthur having a conversation downstairs, though their words were too muffled to make heads or tails of. They're probably talking about me, he thought. Talking about how much of a burden I am to them. About how they're sick of dealing with a son and brother who isolates himself from his own family.

No. No, he shouldn't think that way about them. They loved him, they told him that every day, so why should he doubt their words? If he was truly a burden, then the fault came upon himself, not them. They were kind people, and although he and Arthur got into fights sometimes, he loved his brother dearly and felt so awful that he wasn't able to remain the happy and optimistic person he had been as a child. That fact showed as well; while Alfred's ocean blue eyes had dulled to a sort of gray-ish color in recent weeks, Arthur had maintained the same vibrant shade of forest green all these years. It was a bit funny, Alfred had thought, that nothing on his brother seemed to match. While the older's shaggy hair was a soft sandy blond, his eyebrows were a deep brown, nearly black, and were almost alarmingly thick. With his pale skin, the freckles that dotted his cheeks, nose, and forehead became much bolder in contrast, standing out on his flushed and grumpy face. He had teased Arthur about how he looked like some sort of mutt of different nationalities, but in reality, he truly envied his sibling. Despite seeming humorous, his features were truly unique. He could draw attention from himself; the good kind of attention that makes you blush and your heart swell.

Alfred wasn't unique in the slightest. At least in his mind he wasn't. Golden blond hair and eyes the same color as the sky in midday; such a cliche American appearance. Nothing about him looked interesting, nothing about him intrigued or impressed people. He was taller than average for his age, he had partial-framed gray metal glasses, he wore a faded Air Force bomber jacket that he had inherited from his late father; to him, there seemed to be little depth to his personality. His mother often commented on how handsome he looked, though he never took her seriously. A mother always thinks her children look beautiful, no matter what. Even if she thought he was plain, she had too kind of a heart to comment.

He was such a hypocrite. He wanted to blend in, yet he wanted to be unique. He wanted honesty, yet he wanted unconditional kindness and acceptance. He thought of himself as unoriginal, yet his originality was the reason he was excluded and bullied by others.

Glancing at his clock once more to make sure he had enough time for a quick nap, Alfred rolled onto his side and wrapped himself tightly in the blankets' warmth. It was a bit childish to feel such sanctuary in his own bed, but at this point he was too tired to hate himself. His eyes slid shut, and with mind blank, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

The evening air was cool, yet calm, leaving a sense of calm hanging over the lonely hillside. With no trees to obstruct his view, Alfred had always loved this spot for stargazing. The damp grass was always left to grow freely, making a lush seat for long hours of sitting and staring at the sky. He had meant to bring his telescope with him, but if he did, his family would know where he was going. He didn't want them to try and follow along; he really needed to be alone with the stars right now. He could talk about all his worries to possible trillions of lifeforms millions of light years away, and they would listen to every word and watch over him in his times of sadness.

Well, maybe that's being a bit too poetic. He's found that with depression comes deep thinking, which tends to bring upon more philosophical and artistic ideas. What is the meaning of life? While most his age would simply laugh or shrug, a silent 'nobody knows, why do you think I would?' passing between them, people who are more depressed tend to linger on the thought, perhaps a bit too long. Alfred was no different; physical distractions were all he had keeping him from completely drowning in his own mind. Talking helped, as he had to focus more on the action itself than the thoughts he was communicating, though a trustworthy person to tell such thoughts to was hard to come by these days. Although his family were indeed trustworthy people, Alfred simply wouldn't want to cause them any trouble. More than that, he's afraid of bringing them down with him.

Bringing them down. He remembered a time, not too long ago, where Arthur had said much the same thing to him. His own brother, whom he admired so much, confessed to him that he worried his pessimism and sarcasm would wash away Alfred's cheer. It hurt, to realize someone you loved felt such painful things all this time. Now, his mother and brother were hurting for him, too. All because he couldn't handle himself and his emotions like most people should be capable of.

"Sweetie, you know you can invite some friends over if you want!" his mother had said to him one sunny Saturday afternoon. He didn't have the heart to tell her he didn't have any friends. Well, acquaintances, sure, but there was no one he really felt a special connection towards. He sometimes got the opportunity to speak to an upperclassman, Ivan, when they happened to be in the school library at the same time. He seemed strange and creepy at first, though Alfred was most intrigued by their shared love of outer space. Plus, he turned out to be quite the friendly person, albeit having issues communicating with others. At least he had someone to talk to about his passion, and for that alone, he was thankful.

He had lost contact with any friends he had when he was young, he realized. All those people that he called friends now barely spared a passing glance in the hall. Would his life be any different now had he made the effort to talk to them? Though, as they grew older, and their personalities continued to develop, he really didn't think he would've kept the friendships going anyways. Maybe he was just being too picky.

All of this he had recounted to the starry sky above, his voice remaining steady and low the entire way through. Talking about these emotional thoughts seemed to eliminate the emotion aspect, so he had little trouble getting the words to come out naturally. Like a river, the words came flowing from his mind to his mouth and out into the stillness of late evening fog, echoing slightly in the empty space he sat in. The trees in the small forest to the right of the hill swayed ever so slightly in the gentle breeze, and the pond to its left glistened with the light of the moon.

As Alfred gazed distantly into the clear water below, the stars rippling in their reflections, a swift movement caught his eye. Instinctively, he glanced towards his left, not noticing anything particularly strange. But, there was this feeling...

He looked up.

High in the sky above, a sparkling shooting star was making its way across the atmosphere, leaving a glowing trail in its wake. Alfred's eyes grew large, and he quickly stood from his seated position to stare in wonderment. Never before had he seen a fireball so bright. Every once in a while, a blue ball of light was pulled in by Earth's gravity and burned away in the atmosphere, creating quite the magical sight. This one, it seemed, was much larger than the small meteoroids that he had witnessed before. In fact, it seemed a bit too large. Curiosity turned to slight panic as Alfred processed what information he knew of shooting stars. They were usually meteors that burned up from the heat produced by entering Earth's atmosphere at high velocities, the majority never made it to the ground because they burned up completely in the sky, the ones that do make it are leftover bits of whatever didn't incinerate...

Something as big as this won't burn away before it hits the ground.

If even possible, his eyes grew even wider, and he immediately turned and ran the rest of the way up the hillside. 'Oh god, this thing is really going to crash.'

With a surprised shriek, he threw his arms up to shield his face from the bright light of the flaming rock. Moments later, a loud boom arose from the forest nearby, the ground shaking underneath him. A horde of crows took flight from the surrounding trees, crying out loudly as they fled from the sudden danger. Several moments passed where Alfred simply remained in the same spot, frozen as his mind caught up with what had just occurred in front of him.

A humongous object from outer space just came crashing down and landed right in front of him.

For the first time in months, he smiled. Lowering his arms slowly, he raised his head to see the area in which the object fell, located about a 5 minute walk from where he stood. It was as if the stars had truly heard his pleas, and sent to him a little something to brighten his mood, even if only temporarily. As the adrenaline rushed through his body, Alfred let out a loud whoop as he raced down the hill and across the calming field that surrounded the small gathering of trees. The opportunity to see something like this... what are the chances that this all happened to him?

Bursting through tangled branches, he made his way blindly in the direction he could only hope was towards the fallen star. As he drew nearer, he could hear what sounded like steam rising into the chilly air. A feint light grew brighter in intensity as he took clumsy steps deeper into the woods. Finally, with a single swipe of his arm, he pushed the remaining branches aside and found himself face to face with...

...

Well, it certainly wasn't a rock, that's for sure.

What lay partially buried in the clearing before him was a large oval-shaped capsule, seemingly made of a type of metal. Heat continued to rise from the object, having apparently been damaged little by the impact at all.

In a confused, terrified, over-joyed state, Alfred made careful steps towards the foreign container, his imagination running wild. What is this thing, and where did it come from? What, if anything, could possibly be inside of it? As he approached, he noticed how the surrounding air grew much warmer, yet the maybe-metal thing in front of him gave off a cool breeze of its own. Once close enough, he reached out a tentative hand towards the dull surface, shock apparent on his face when his hand met a pleasing temperature that was only barely warm to his touch. How could such a thing be possible?

Click

Alfred stumbled backwards in surprise as the capsule before him began to move. Its surface, he could see, had multiple underlying layers, and they all twisted and turned in different directions as if entering some sort of code with their movements. He scrambled backwards, unsure of what was even happening anymore at this point. There weren't any books on astronomy that told me what to do in a situation like this!

As he watched, transfixed, a small contraption rose from the center of the object, uncurling and opening to reveal what looked like a small monitor of some kind. Silence ensued as the maybe-metal panels came to a halt, and Alfred stared open-mouthed at the foreign device. Slowly, smoothly, it began to move. Spinning around like it was analyzing its surroundings, taking in everything there was to see, before finally landing on Alfred's huddled form a few yards away. He let out a quiet yelp as the monitor then began to extend itself towards him, and he briefly worried this was really some sort of sci-fi horror movie gone wrong. The thing stopped about a foot from his face, remaining motionless for a few moments before its monitor lit up to reveal a message.

"Species: Human. Tongue: English. Land: America. Heart: Good.
Subject is deemed sufficient for objective completion.

We beg of you, human. Care for the son of our people."

"...Wha?" he stuttered aloud, confusion clearly etched on his face. What the hell was going on here? Objective completion? Son of our people? Yep, this is definitely a cheesy alien movie for sure now. Before he could articulate his concern, the machine whirred to life once more, the monitor fading and retracting back inside of the container. Alfred stood, racing after the computer and reaching out to stop it, hopeful to receive more information from whatever this thing really was. But before he could even reach it, the monitor had folded and tucked itself away, and the container split into two horizontal sections. A dull light seeped out through the crack from within, and with a stutter and some more steam, the top half of the compartment rose and drew back, allowing Alfred to gain access to its contents.

The contents which just so happened to consist solely of a strangely-dressed, delicate, mystifying young man.

A man with soft raven hair which framed his mature features, blue and gold robes wrapped intricately around his body from top to bottom. Ornate jewelry was draped elegantly over his head, dangling down to his shoulders. A weathered necklace, carved with an unknown crest, was wrapped securely around his neck. He seemed to be in a peaceful sleep, his chest rising and falling in regular intervals. Alfred stared, bewildered, at the strange man before him. A man dressed in otherworldly clothing, sleeping inside of a sophisticated metal capsule that fell from outer space.

How the hell am I supposed to explain this to mom...?