Starcrossed

By: Ryan Wilson

I never forget a face, especially the faces of those who hate me. I never understood their hate. It’s unreasonable and unjust. They get up close to me, to where our noses are touching, and spit out one word over and over.

“Xeno” became a second name to me. They shout it every time I walk down the street, walk into a cross-species store or restaurant. I’ve heard it so much it’s begun to no longer bother me. So little people like me go out that I know they’re referring to me.

They call me a Xeno because of my species. The city is predominantly human, but we have a never-growing population of non-human species, such as Mall’k, Hastarian, and my species, G’lens. Recently, the slur has spread to people who aren’t from Earth. Humans born on New Mongolia, Teplin-V, and other worlds are all beginning to feel the same hate.

What makes me any different from them is unclear to me. We breathe the same air, walk the same streets. Our anatomies aren’t too different. Rather than the smooth, leathery skin a human has, I have hard blue scales. We both have four limbs, though I only have four digits rather than five. We have no hair on our bodies. Instead, we have horns on our head which indicate our race of G’len and age. For example, I have two short, round horns, for I am of twenty stars and a Nebren. We feel the same emotions as humans. We’ve learned to speak English. We’re not so different.

But, of course, non-humans aren’t allowed to interact with humans. One wrong move, one wrong look, and you’re beaten bloody in the street. My uncle Han’sender tried to offer a starving human a piece of fruit. A bystander saw it and accused him of stealing it from the man. A mob rallied, beat him senseless, and hung him from a lamppost. The worst part is that the nearby Military Police did nothing. But if non-humans tried to protest for equal treatment, they get gunned and gassed by Riot Police. Friendliness is bad, but stars help you if you try to love a human.

Any non-human who shows romantic interest in a human is dead within days. With friendliness, you at least get beaten and have the chance to get away; but with love, you get killed immediately. A few stars ago, there was an organization dedicated to matching non-humans with humans. Their meeting center was raided and burned down with everyone inside. When the flames died down the next morning, they took the bodies and piled them outside. At the top, they impaled a sign into them that said one word: Xcantas. The Mall’k word for heretics.

I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid such trouble. The most I see of it is on the news. But of course, it’s human news; so it paints the non-humans, the Xeno, as the bad guys and praise the people who brutally murder them. Granted, if I tried to voice my opinion on the matter, I’d wind up like the people on the news. I always wear a hood to cover my horns and scales, I keep my head low, wear long clothing and keep my hands in my pockets. But the few who do see my face simply move away with a few ugly glares.

My morning began as it usually did: a walk through the Qinden Memorial Garden, a park near my house. The area across the street from my house isn’t usually inhabited. The most you’ll see is homeless people, human and non-human alike; Redwin addicts, or teenagers looking for a secluded corner. It makes for an ideal place for a non-human to take their morning walk.

“Chis’andra,” my mother, Sal’andra, would say. “The humans are intolerable. Their history repeats itself constantly. They’ve mistreated their own kind, but it’s much worse for us non-humans.” She worries about me and tries to deter me from going outside. She tries to get me to go work with my father, Gras’andra, and my brother, Hal’andra. But I enjoy the fresh air, the feeling of the crisp autumn breeze between my scales, and the leaves crunching under me. Sometimes, if it’s cool enough, I can see the cloud of my breath in front of me as I breathe.

This morning was no different. A light cloud covering blanketed the sky, giving the park duller lighting than it usually had. Only a few brown leaves remained on the trees now, which struggled to hold against the cool breeze piercing the leathery skin of humans.  My scales managed to hold against such, giving me more warmth than humans would get. I wore black sweatpants, a light grey hoodie with the hood pulled up, and my usual green sneakers. My hands were jammed into the hoodie pockets and my head was down. My eyes traced the lines my feet made. I looked like an ordinary human this way. No signs of Xeno meant no harassment.

The park’s filled with its normal population. Homeless, druggies, but no teenagers. Some people just come here to find an empty area of the park. Go to the nicer area and you’ll find swarms of people admiring the flowers before they wither away. Admire the fountains of now cold water, soon to freeze over, dedicated to the Qinden twins. Ironically, their park was put in the lower area of the city, an environment similar to how they grew up.

About halfway through the trail, I see a girl under a light post. She looks to have brown hair, though messy and tangled. Her tan, leathery skin, marks her as human. She’s in wrinkled sleepwear consisting of flannel sleep pants and a light pink shirt, desaturated from many washes. She isn’t even wearing shoes. The soles of her feet are beginning to blacken with dirt and mud. Her legs are pulled up towards her torso with her face tucked into it. Through the way her shoulders shake, I can tell she was crying. I can’t ignore it.

“Excuse me,” I approach her, trying my best to hide my G’len accent. “It appears you are distressed. What is the matter?”

She tried to fight her tears and move her head slightly to catch me in her peripheral visions and through her hair. “What?” she asks in a Mongolian accent.

I clear my throat, beginning to grow somewhat nervous. “You are in visible distress and I wish to help.”

She lifts her head up and moves the hair from in front of her face. The whites of her eyes were red and puffy. Her irises were brown and shone from her tears. Her lip is quivering and her cheeks were wet. “Go away,” she told me, her voice cracking.

“You are very beautiful. Your skin is very smooth. To vandalize it with the salt of your tears is a waste. I’d wager your smile is a sight to behold,” I said honestly. I check behind me to make sure no one was around. My hands begin to tremble in my pocket.

The girl sighed but looks to be cracking a grin. “You talk oddly. What species are you, Xeno?”

There it is. That hurtful word. “I am a G’len. Though, rather than Xeno, you may refer to me by name, Chis’andra.”

“Chis’andra,” she echoes. “And your last name?”

“Andra. My gifted name is Chis, and my family name is Andra. It’s the naming system of my species, just like how you humans separate your two names.” I explain.

The girl nodded. “Well, I’m Jess Hale, a human,” she finally gave me a soft smile. My wager was right: It’s beautiful. Nonetheless, the pain in her eyes hasn’t gone away.

“May I ask what’s bothering you, Jess Hale?”

Jess pushed the ground and stood up, brushing the dirt off of her pants. “Maybe later. I need to get home.” She turns around and begins walking away. After a few steps, she stops and turns back around. “Also, it’s just Jess.”

I nod and watch her as she walks away. Despite the cold breeze and grey skies, I feel a warm feeling inside me. A taboo feeling.

The next few days, we meet up at the park at the same time. She didn’t cry the way she did when we met. We’d go for a walk together every day. She didn’t mind me trying to hide my face. In fact, she’d try to hide hers as well, though she never wore hooded clothing. Day by day, as we met up, I noticed some smaller details about her. The big thing I noticed was the dark grey and blue spots that would dot her arms. I only noticed them if she rolled her sleeves up, but I never said anything. I didn’t want to reveal that I was looking at her aside from when we talked.

After a week, she stopped showing up. I’d go to our usual spot, under the light post and wait for an hour, but she’d never come. At that point, I’d do my walk and go back home. It was four days before I saw her again. Another cloudy day, with a light rain falling on the park. The park was emptier today because of it. This time, she was crying again and looked to be even more of a mess than when we first met. She had more of the spots on her and was bleeding from the side of her head, which she tried to cover with her hair. She wore a thick sweatshirt with cuffs that hugged her wrists, keeping it secured to her arms and covered. The collar covered most of her chin.

“Jess Hale,” I said, jogging over to her.

She looked up, her sparkling eyes wide. “Chis’andra,” she gasps, as if she wasn’t expecting me. She got up and did her best to wipe off the dirt and tears. “Hey, I’m so sorry for not being here. I was… busy.”

“I forgive you, I was just concerned for your well-being.”

“It’s nothing,” she forced a smile. “It’s just my dad. He…”

“What did your father do?”

“Oh, nothing! He was just sick and I needed to take care of him,” she says through another fake smile.

I tilt my head. “Does it relate to the spots that were on your arms and legs, the dark ones that I noticed the past few times we’ve met? And are you wearing more secure clothing out of shame for those marks?” I ask, wiping some rain from my eyes.

Her face seems to flush, going from pale to pink. “No, those are something else. It’s not important,” she shakes her head. “Let’s finish our walk. It’s getting cold.”

I sigh, disappointed at the lack of information she was giving me. Nonetheless, we keep walking. She changed the topic to me, as she’d normally do. I get the idea that she didn’t know many non-humans if any at all because all of her questions would always elicit the same answer: “Not too different from you.”

Once we finish our walk, we stopped where we’d usually part ways. She gave her normal cheerful goodbye. “See you later, Chis’andra!” She waves, but just before she leaves, I stop her.

“Jess Hale, may I walk you to your door since it’s colder than usual and raining?” I ask her. “I’d hate for you to collapse in the middle of the street and have no one to find you and call for help.”

She stands for a second, stunned. “I… Ok,” she nods. I notice her hand beginning to tremble. “But what if someone sees you.”

“I’ll keep my head down,” I smile at her. “No one will see. I promise.”

Jess hesitates, then nods. “Ok, just please try not to get noticed.”

We begin walking. We walk out from another gate than I’d usually take. The houses here were slightly newer than the ones I lived by. The metal on them was polished more, the windows were larger, and the roads had been freshly paved. Her house was a few down from the gate and across the street. It had a coat of desaturated green paint, a rough stone pathway leading to her door, and a large window with half of the curtains drawn open. A light was on inside, but I didn’t see anyone.

We should part here,” she says halfway across the road. “Thank you for walking me home, but you should move quickly. People here don’t take too kindly to non-humans.”

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jess Hale.”

Jess smiles and leans forward. She presses her lips to the top of my head, holding herself for a second before retracting. She gives me a soft smile, her skin beginning to flush again, then walks inside. I watch her walk into the house. Through the doorway, I see an older gentleman sitting inside. As soon as the door opened, he springs up and begins walking to it. And through the door, I see him glaring right at me. Once the door shuts, I begin making my way back into the park.

About halfway through the park, I hear the footsteps of someone behind me. I hear talking, one voice, possibly into an earpiece. I can tell they had a Mongolian accent as Jess did. They’re talking about a meeting later tonight here in the park. He was following me until I turned to exit onto my street. He keeps going around the trail. Once he walked past, I turn and look at him. He had a similar hair color as Jess, though with some greying, and the same brown eyes.

Later that night, a knock came to the door. I answered it and was surprised to see Jess standing there. I could immediately tell something was bothering her. Her eyes were in distress, though not for herself.

“Chis’andra,” she says quickly. Her breathing was quick and her hands are trembling. “You… wanna go for a walk?”

I nod and step outside. “I’ll return, mother!” I yell through the door as it closes.

Jess takes me by the hand and begins walking into the park. She refuses to elaborate on what was happening, no matter how much I ask. The sky had gotten darker in the night and the rain had grown heavier. Lightning flashed over us, illuminating the empty park. There was an odd smell in the air. It wasn’t strong enough to be right here. Perhaps gas at the meeting for a grill.

Jess seems oddly panicked. She holds my hand the entire way, keeping a tight grip on my hand. Her fingers are trembling, but she doesn’t feel cold. Something’s bothering her.

“Jess Hale, why take me for a walk this late?” 

“I just…” she sighs, “wanted to get out of the house but I don’t like walking alone.”

“I doubt you’re any safer walking with me.”

“Don’t question it, Chis’andra. Please.” She’s pleading now.

We walk around the park in silence. I can see Jess shivering in the cold wind. It’s colder than normal tonight; the park was emptier. Leaves scrape across the concrete path and crunch under our feet. Even I’m beginning to feel the cold. The lamps along the path are dim, barely giving any light. The rain grows heavier and colder, but Jess didn’t care.

We were turning to go to my house, where I saw orange smoke from my street. I knew my neighbors partake in wild shenanigans, and perhaps this was one of them. But as we get closer, I realized it wasn’t any of my neighbors. It’s my house, engulfed in a large blaze. A huge mob of humans are gathered around it, cursing and shouting over the sounds of high-pitched screaming. Screaming I recognized.

“Father!” Jess yells, letting go of my hand and bolting into the crowd.

The crowd parts for her. Through the parting, I see three bodies in the street. They’re bloodied, broken, and mutilated. I still recognize them as my family. My father and brother are still, large gashes in their throats that had run dry. But my mother’s blood still runs. A fresh cut. I can hear Jess pleading to her father somewhere in the crowd. I see him accompanied by armed humans. They’re all holding guns, knives, bats, pipes, anything that could kill someone. They were focused on Jess, but one member perked their head up and looked right at me.

“Xeno!” A voice cries. “The last son!” 

Everyone turns around and looked at me, including Jess. She whispers something to herself and starts running forward, out of the crowd. The humans try to grab her, but she manages to slip away. She grabs me by my hand and begins running again. She follows the road that leads to another part of the city.

“Jess Hale. That was my family…” I tell her as we run. All the emotion is gone from my voice.

“I know!” She yells through her tears, which rolls from her eyes and flies behind her in the wind, mixing with the rain. “I know, and I’m sorry! I tried to stop him, but when he saw you outside my door…”

“They’re still behind us.”

We keep running. We’re both beginning to tire, but the crowd isn’t. Several shouts and curses still fill the air, only being drowned out by the brief rumbles of thunder above us. The buildings clear, being replaced by empty lots of grass waiting to be leased and built on. Jess turns and cuts into one of them, but we’re easily slowing our pace.

“Jess Hale, we need to find a place to--” I’m cut off by a warm piercing in my chest. I stop and fall over, freeing from Jess’s grip. I spit out a glob of warm azure blood into the grass. I roll over and look up, the rain hitting my face and running between my scales. It didn’t hurt. It was numb. Warm. I can feel my blood rushing out of me and staining my clothes.

I never forget a face, especially the faces of those who hate me. The face of Jess’s father: The man in the park. He’s standing over me, a brown rifle in his hands. A hear a faint yell from Jess, but I can’t make it out. The warmth is too peaceful, and the light is welcoming.