I have been thinking lately (people tell me I think too much), about my past. Not of my lost home world, and my 1000 years of home sickness, but the past of this identity and body( I grew it in a test tube and took possession of this human shell when it was one years old. My Earth parents think they’re keeping my adoption a secret, but I know all about it).

I realise now that any good and redeeming qualities I possess now, (the alien part of my life is weird and convoluted, so I won’t launch into explanations about the seeming contradictions of this post), can be attributed to the efforts of my human mother’s parents.

My human father abandoned her a long time ago for his career. The times he came back to visit were harsh on me, though my human sister was spoiled rotten by him, so she didn’t care. His return meant an increase in my mother’s unhappiness and subsequent yelling. She can be very cruel when she loses her temper. As a result, I hated him for most of this avatar’s life.

I spent a lot of my early childhood with my grandparents. My sister was born later, so she could not experience the joy of living with family like I did back then. My grandmother had been a school teacher, and my grandfather a biochemist. They were both retired by the time my avatar was born.

They had a beautiful garden, where I would dig holes for hours or climb the mango tree. My grandfather put up a swing made of a tire’s inner tube in the early days, but took it down later (I do not remember why. This avatar has a malfunction.)

They had lived in Madison, Wisconsin during the 50s, 60s. My grandfather was involved in that research project to synthesize DNA (RNA? I forgot), which won Khorana the Nobel Prize. My upbringing was a mixture of Eastern and Western cultures. Since my mother and her siblings had all been raised in America, my thinking was heavily influenced by the English West.

My grandmother used to write rhyming poetry on cards for everyone’s birthdays. I think that this is where my love for poetry began. Sometimes, she was the only person who encouraged me in my endeavours. I could not handle it when she passed, though I did not show it. My grandfather’s passing was more gradual, so I got used to it.

My mother and I were praying a rosary for him in the hospital at the time of his passing. He suddenly sat up, took a deep breath and I was overjoyed that he seemed to be full of energy. And then he died.

I wish that my sister had gotten to experience living with them the way I had.