Well, hello. I know, I know. I'm horrible. Why am I writing another story if I'm probably going to abandon it? And no, I'm not promising that I won't because I dont want to break a promise. However, I will try not to. As you'll probably notice this is kind of a remake of My Father's an Alien. I don't have anything thought up for that story, but this newer, better version of it has been stuck in my head for weeks. It's obviously not the same, but it's basically the same idea. I won't be deleting My Father's an Alien because I want to see my improvement. As you're reading this, I'm typing up the next chapter and will be posting it... sometime soon. Anyways, enjoy and don't kill me!
My name is Tobias, and I was one tired bird. It was about 4a.m and I was making my way home from another night of battle. Oh the glamorous life of a superhero.
This was getting out of hand. The battles. The blood. The emotional weight. Everything was getting to be too much. Slowly we were all being driven over the edge, and it was a long way down when we fell. And, yeah, the tiredness and aftershock of the battle were making me way too serious and self-pitying. Bite me. You would be like this too if you had just gotten your guts spilled on the floor by a seven-foot tall hork-bajir.
If you're reading this and you have no idea what I'm talking about, than you should really start reading your series in order. But, for the sake of not wasting your time by making you read a ton of stories before this, I'll explain: Earth is being invaded.
No, I am not the guy on the corner of the street holding a poster board that reads "THE END IS HERE!" and asking for your spare change. Sometimes I wish it were that simple, though. Actually, I'm just a kid that had the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Long story short: About a year ago four other kids and I were (stupidly) walking through a construction site when an alien spaceship landed in front of us. An injured Andalite, Prince Stiliam, stumbled out and basically said, "Hey kids, do you want to be part of an intergalactic war against parasitic alien slugs?" before dying at the hands of Visser Three.
They're called Yeerks, the slugs I mean. They have the power to crawl into your brain through your ear canal and enslave you. Totally completely enslave you. You want to cry, you can't. You want to talk, you can't. And all the while you're trapped inside your mind screaming and begging the Yeerk to leave you and your loved ones alone. People (or aliens) that have been enslaved by the Yeerks are called Controllers. There are Hork-bajir Controllers, Taxxon Controllers, Gedd Controllers, Leeran Controllers, and of course, Human Controllers. There is only one Andalite Controller, Visser Three.
All that opposes the Yeerk invasion on Earth are five kids and one young andalite cadet. Now, you can start panicking. Fortunately, we're not extremely powerless. Before Prince Stiliam died, he left us one gift. The power to transform into any animal we manage to get our hands on. It wasn't exactly a perfect Christmas gift, but it was enough for us to attempt to slow down the Yeerks.
Like tonight. The Yeerks had been trying to open a new Yeerk entrance on the edge of town. We had gone in and attempted to stop them. Things worked out in the end but not before they got complicated and we'd nearly been slaughtered.
Anyways, when I got home in owl morph I mentally cursed and had to restrain myself from turning around and going to sleep over at Jake's or Marco's. I'm sure they wouldn't mind saving my behind one more time.
My window was open just like I'd left and my lights were off. If I were anything but an owl at that moment I wouldn't have seen the danger. See, the owl was a nocturnal animal and it's eyes were made to be able to see a mouse's nose twitching from a hundred feet up in the air. Therefore, I was able to see my mom's angry face as she leaned on the wall next to the light switch and my dad's glare as he sat down on my bed.
See, parents don't react kindly when their teenage sons disappear in the middle of the night.
I circled my house three times trying to get the courage to go in. Funny how I could face a dozen hork-bajir warriors willingly, but the idea of facing my parents scared me almost as much as Visser Three did. Almost.
Eventually, I sighed, landed, and demorphed in some bushes in the backyard. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can go to bed, I told myself. After the night's adventures the idea of a soft bed was overwhelming. I could sleep for a week. But first…
I couldn't walk in through the backdoor because I'm not an idiot and if I actually had sneaked out of the house in human form I would have climbed the tree that's next to my window, meaning that would also be the way I snuck back in. That's not such a bad thing, but I was barefoot.
You see, to morph you use the DNA of an animal or human, and clothing isn't part of it. We had managed to morph skintight clothes only. Currently, I was in spandex and bike shorts. And barefoot. Not exactly the best climbing gear. Great.
After managing to provide splinters for my feet to last a lifetime, I finally made it up to my bedroom and climbed in. Instantly, the lights went on and I was momentarily blinded by the sudden light. When my eyes adjusted I was not met with a pretty picture. My mom's face was an angry mask, and her pretty blue eyes had a dangerous glint to them. I swear, I could almost see steam coming out of her ears. My dad's face was expressionless, and I've learned that's way worse than him actually looking mad.
"Tobias," my mom started with an overly sweet voice that would have been sweeter if she wasn't sending me a death glare, "where have you been?"
"I was… Well, there was this party…" I started. "Everybody was invited. Anybody who was anybody was going and I couldn't just miss it." My voice had taken a pleading tone, and I wondered when I'd gotten so good at lying.
"And you just decided you would go without permission?" I remained silent. The answer was pretty obvious to me.
"ANSWER ME WHEN I ASK YOU A QUESTION!" I flinched. My mom rarely screamed at me. But then again, she didn't usually catch me sneaking out of the house.
"I'm sorry." I mumbled. I honestly didn't know what else to say.
"You're SORRY!? What good does that do? Was it so hard to ask for permission that you had to sneak out?" Obviously.
"You wouldn't have let me." I argued. Had I been in my right senses I would have shut up and taken whatever punishment I got. But truthfully, I was tired, and cranky, and sleepy, and had just nearly been killed, and I really wasn't in the mood to be yelled at.
"No, we probably wouldn't have," my mom admitted, "but now for your own stupidity you won't be going anywhere for the next decade. DO YOU HEAR ME!?"
With that she turned around and left after slamming the door to my room. I'm sure it will need repairs after that. I wearily turned to face my dad. He hadn't said a word since I got there. He was silent for a moment, than sighed and got a defeated look on his face.
"What has gotten into you?"