Please don’t send me to your planet. Trust me, or at least hear me out, I want to go to your planet just not right now. Let me stay here, I can help you. I know that you are a superior race, and that humans are just sad, frail mortals who waste time and energy by simply breathing. I am different. I am not a weak human made of fragile bones and merciful thoughts.
The circumstances of my upbringing testify to this. Most human children are born in hospitals and wrapped in warm blankets while, their mothers sing to them and coo. I was born in a hospital for the insane. My mother grew up there, had me there, and died there. She kept me close with such ferocity they let her keep me, saying it showed “normal human instinct previously unseen in the patient”. I grew up sleeping a box they called a room. I got to walk the halls alone, but I chose not to. The screams were too much to handle when I was alone. It felt as if the voices were in my head, instead of the other side of iron doors, padlocked shut.  
Time passed and I got older. The halls were home and the screams were identifiable. If the shouts were about the government, it was Stephanie in 705. If it was about talking animals, I knew David was awake in 716. My mom didn’t scream though. I spent most of my life sitting with her on a metal bed we shared, just listening to her. She would go on about “them” coming. As I played with the restraints that dangled off the sides I thought she meant the doctors or the guards. She talked about ships landing and having to leave; that’s how I knew you would be here one day; because my mom told me
Now, she didn’t just utter nonsense. Our walls were covered in equations and string theory that she wrote and rewrote for hours every day. When I turned ten she actually started to tell me what it meant, filling in the gaps of my knowledge. I learned everything from her. The hospital gave me worksheets instead of sending me to school, and my mom taught her lessons on the blank sides of them. There’s a reason why she died though. You and your ships were about a month away and the government had begun to pick up your frequencies, but so did my mom. She felt them in her bones. She saw you in her mind so clearly, that she drew pictures of your ships and control panels over the old equations. The problem was that whatever you were doing to her made her a screamer and this alerted everyone. For twenty years she had never raised her voice and now it was one that echoed and vibrated through the halls, from one side of the hospital to another.
Doctors came in groups to listen to her speak, taking notes on yellow legal pads with squinted eyes as they peered through the small window in the door. First it was one doctor, then four, and then ten. Soon after the large groups came, men in suits showed up. All I heard were whispers through the door. The guards wouldn’t let me walk the halls. I stayed in that room, listening to my mom scream and watching her write, while being observed. I stopped adding to the wall while the men were there. I tried to stop her from writing, but she couldn’t. Her hand would shake and her clothes would be drenched in sweat within minutes from when she began. I watched her shiver and sweat every day. Shiver, sweat, scream. That was my day – everyday.
My father if you’re wondering was a guard I think or maybe a doctor. No one talks about these things in the hospital. I know she wasn’t willing though. I’ve heard the guards talk about it though. Apparently whoever it was claimed she forced herself on him, and was moved to another facility. Whoever my father is doesn’t matter because I am the sole product of my mom and all he gave me was some DNA and my green eyes.
After two weeks of observations they killed my mom. I woke up one morning and saw that her chest wasn’t rising and falling. They said she had a seizure while she was sleeping. I’m not blind though. I saw the small puncture mark on her arm where they injected her with what I’m guessing was Clozapine.
It’s been two weeks since she died. They released me to Child Services since I’m seventeen. I’ve been waiting for you. I can help, even though I know you probably don’t think much of me. Over time I’ve learned what my mom knew without learning. I can write the formulas just as she did. I can help you here on Earth. I know how your math and sciences work and I have absolutely no problem with you controlling Earth. The Dararas who are already on your home planet know what they’re doing, and I’m not physical labor material. Use my mind here on Earth. These humans are just as foreign to you as they are to me. I’ve only really walked among for two weeks and I wasn’t impressed. I grew up with learning about your people. My history classes were about you and your great leadership. I learned that your plant has never stood divided and I know it never will.
I’m disgusted when I see the kind of person I might’ve been if I had been raised among the rest of the human race. I want to stay here on Earth and help you. I want to learn from you. I want to be a Darara. I may appear human on the outside but I know I’m on the inside. I see myself as a part of your people and your world. Let me stay here on Earth and I’ll show. Two weeks ago, the only thing anchoring me to this life left.
She always said “Be with them.”
It has taken me awhile to figure out that she was preparing me to join you. She could feel you in her bones. If you aren’t satisfied with what I do, kill me. I want a life where I can feel what I am a part of with every fiber of my being. Anything less than that would be a waste of my time – both yours and mine.