The Unpretenders - Chapter 2

There was a time, not so long ago, when claiming to have come from another planet would likely have resulted in some rather unpleasant consequences, and could even have landed one in the loony bin. Today, however, thanks to the Internet, starseeds were everywhere, and generally considered to be a positive force for change in the world. Certainly they weren't thought of as dangerous or mentally ill any longer. Some were even entrusted with the responsibility of teaching the next generation. Although, to do that effectively often meant deviating from the standard curriculum - to put it mildly.

Julian himself was no fan of the educational system. In fact, he once recommended that we all march out of class, there and then, and never return. Whether he actually expected anyone to follow his advice or not, it's hard say. But Isobel, bless her, did precisely that - to a raucous applause. It was quite a big deal, at the time. And in the wake of her departure, a number of betting pools were formed, around how long she would be gone for. Most wagered on a few days, or a week. However, because I knew Isobel so well, I predicted that she would never be coming back; a bet which I have yet to collect on, of course.

It wasn't long after this incident that we decided to make a suicide pact, such was our revulsion with the world, and almost everyone in it. We were both thoroughly fed-up with suffering at the hands of other human beings: parents, siblings, teachers, classmates. What was wrong with people? The future didn't look much brighter either. Isobel reckoned that even if we made it out of school alive, there would be more bullying and harassment to deal with in the workplace. And beyond that, of course, we could anticipate being abused and mistreated in our care homes. Nice.

Nevertheless, I couldn't help but feel there was a better solution; that we shouldn't have to kill ourselves in order to get away from people. And, as it happens, a few days before D-Day - that is to say, Death Day - Julian appeared on my radar, like the answer to a prayer. He even looked messianic, with his unruly long hair and designer stubble. His clothes were strange. His manner was unconventional. His whole being, in fact, seemed to radiate otherworldliness, giving me complete faith in the veracity of his claims, regarding his origins. 

Isobel laughed when I first shared my idea with her. She said that it was the craziest plan she'd ever heard. However, considering the alternative, she was also willing to indulge me, and allow me to try. Hence, unbeknownst to him, Julian was now all that stood between two young lives... and two young deaths.

My eagerness to update her on the latest developments, concerning his reaction to my essay, meant taking the afternoon off school. That was the outcome, at least, once I'd eaten the big lunch that she'd prepared for me. Isobel loved cooking, even though she rarely ate any of the food herself. "I'm fine with this," she said, munching on an apple. But obviously she wasn't fine. Her weight had dropped even lower in recent weeks, which she made no attempt to disguise. In fact, wearing little more than a pair of shorts and a vest, she actually seemed intent upon flaunting it.

Some unexpected sunshine proved irresistible, and soon drew both of us outside, into the garden. Being a redhead, however, Isobel remained in the shade, looking positively spectral - at least from where I was sitting. From there she launched into another of her misanthropic diatribes, this time on the root cause of human misery. "The Buddha got it all wrong," she proclaimed. "Suffering is actually caused by the madness of society, imposed upon the individual."

"Isn't that victim mentality?" I cautioned.

"It's an observation," she insisted.

"But don't individuals comprise society?"

"No, Sophie. They become society. Big difference. Like the Borg."

"Nobody forces them to assimilate though."

"Really? Have you tried stepping out of line lately?"

"I'm here, aren't I? I should be in school right now - and so should you."

"Who says? I mean, where are all of these shoulds and shouldn'ts actually coming from? Just human beings, right? Former individuals imposing the will of the collective."

"Julian isn't human," I reminded her.

"Yes he is."

"Technically, perhaps."

"So when are you going to make the request?"

"Soon. But it would be more powerful if we went together. We also need to demonstrate our commitment somehow."

"What do you suggest?"

"Don't worry, Izzy, I have a great idea."

"Yeah, that's what worries me."