Imprinted memories of a home I’ve never seen flash behind my eyes and my awakening begins. Earth served only as a sort of nursery school. Now it’s time for my extraction, and I am prepared. I scan the horizon for the vessel.
She knew in advance how it would end.
We wanted to be left alone today, but no one seemed to care. Our birthday was never a celebration. We spent most of our time dreaming of the mother we had never met. We were blessed to be twins, but we were cursed to have sacrificed our human host so that we could help colonize a once wasted planet. We wished we could not think of her.
They told us that the remaining humans were willing to conceive with our species because their own males became sterile and the planet was quickly becoming uninhabitable for them. Between our species, we would evolve into a stronger more resilient being that could withstand the harsh atmosphere of Earth and other less friendly planets in the Universe.
Created in a lab, we then grew inside of our host. She knew in advance how it would end. We shouldn’t care, but perhaps we have too much human in us.
– Written for YeahWrite.me fiction|poetry #265. Prompt up sentence, “We want to be left alone.” WC 155. Photo from Pixabay.com. “Gemini Redemption” was named 3rd place by popular vote in this contest. Read part two, Gemini Symbiosis, here.
Singing along to Purple Rain, I accelerated to maximum speed. The inconspicuous purple brick wall dissolved as I broke through the portal. I slid onto the landing pad before the song ended. Welcome to Alia Terra, home sweet home.