And so I stopped running. What was I running from? If you knew who or even what I was, you wouldn’t ask. The Board of Exotic Museums, one of the largest corporations in 26th Ashwood, Earth, was after me. Me, one of the weirdest creatures left alive, and I belonged to a museum filled with the stuffed images of my dead family members. But I was safe now, they would never find me. I had traveled to Dracoron, sector number five, double AZ, over twenty light years away from my home planet, my memories, my life, my heart… It was gone now, my hometown. I was born in Grapevine, Texas presently known as part of the TychAng Border. Earth was normal, the inhabitants-normal, the flora and fauna were normal, up until I was about twenty-three years of age.

That’s when it happened, World war III. Back then, there was no such thing as the U.S.A., England, or even cities like Tokyo; these became ruled be one person, one family. They just declared themselves dependent sectors of Earth when we left and about 367 months later, Dycran time, the caught us. I was the next up for termination. The Dycran species never much cared for my kind. We littered the universe as soon as the first of our kind landed on the moon. We broke up the natural boundaries of life, one of the biggest rules ever written by the galactic society. That however, was not necessarily our fault, we didn’t even learn about this society until the 24th century. My father and my mother were the first, stripped and killed, then stuffed like animals; then went my cousins, grandparents, niña and niño, and my entire group of friends that I lived with and knew like second family. It wasn’t until they found my brother that I broke. He’s the youngest, he’s the last, and he was the only one that managed to get away at the very beginning. And that’s why I’m running, to make sure he’s safe.