“Get out of here, Simon!!”
“Yeah, you lanky freak! No one wants you on our team. You’ll screw everything up again!”
Simon scowled but turned around and headed to the other side of the playground, away from the more athletic eleven and twelve year old boys who were getting ready to play a game of kickball. He didn't particularly like the game, but he was desperate to make some friends, any friends. Unfortunately, his reputation as a klutz seemed to have preceded him.
“Did you see the last time he tried to play?” Simon overheard Greg, a blonde-haired, tanned-looking boy, asking the rest of the guys on his team. “When he was at the plate, he whiffed the ball three times in a row, the last time falling flat on his face in the process!”
Feeling the blood rush to his face, Simon (mostly) held back his tears and picked up his pace, trying to get as far away from these jerks as possible. As he started to run however, he began to lose his balance, and his feet tangled together, sending him crashing to the dirt. As he lifted himself up, picking up the glasses that had fallen off of his face and putting them back on, he prayed that no one had seen what just happened.
Unfortunately, by the sounds of laughter coming from behind him, his prayer had gone unanswered. “There he goes again!” Greg yelled out, his surprisingly baritone voice grating in Simon's ears. “Klutzy Simon can't even walk from one side of the school yard to the other without taking a dive!”
While the rest of the boys continued their hooting and hollering, Simon quickly rose to his feet and got out of there as quickly as possible, thinking to himself how satisfying it would be if he could only find some way to teach those asswipes a lesson.
*****
That night, Simon was laying on his bed, reading the latest issue of his favorite magazine, National Geographic, which has just come in the mail that day. The cover story focused on different reports of alien abductions, taking a generally dismissive attitude towards virtually all of them. "Regardless of the fervent testimony of a few zealotous alien apologists," Simon read the last paragraph of the article, "the fact remains that there has yet to be any conclusive evidence presented for any alien's existence in the first place, much less their contact with humans. However, one thing we can all agree on is that, if they ever do contact us, we shouldn't expect to see little green men."
"Ain't that the truth," a voice from the other end of the bed said.
Simon yelled a little and jumped back in fright. What looked like a boy his own age was sitting across from him, smiling softly at him. He looked like any average ten-year-old, except that he was glowing white all over, like some sort of ghost, or angel.
"W-who are you?" Simon asked, his lips quivering slightly. "How'd you get into my room?"
"Calm down, Simon," the boy said, "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm a visitor from another dimension, what you might call an 'alien', though I don't really come from another planet, and this is for sure not what I really look like. But I'm here to help you."
Help me? Simon thought to himself. How could someone like him help me? Out loud, he simply said, "What-- what do you mean?"
Standing up, the shimmering boy began to slowly walk around the room. "There's something very unique about you, Simon, something that allows you to do and become things that no other human could even dream of. To put it as simply as I can, you're the descendent of someone who came to your world centuries ago from the same dimension I'm from, and we want to get you back home. To do that, though, we're going to need to work on developing some of the abilities that lay dormant within you."
Unique? Abilities? Home? Simon wasn't quite sure he was following along, or if he was just imagining or dreaming the whole thing. Still, if what this … being … if what he said was true…
"What kind of abilities are we talking about?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Well, I can't say for sure exactly how they'll manifest themselves within you," the boy said as he sat back down on the bed, closer to Simon. "A lot of that's to be seen, and you'll have a lot of choices to make. I just need to know that you're willing to believe in me. Otherwise, I can't help you."
Simon thought long and hard for a few moments, wondering whether he did truly believe in what he was hearing. Finally, he nodded, slowly at first but then more enthusiastically. "Yes! Yes, I do want to believe you!"
"Great! Then we're set to begin tonight!" The boy stood up and walked over to the wall, then suddenly seemed to disappear through it.
"Wait!" Simon called out, reaching out his hand after the boy.
"Yes?" Simon heard the voice, though the figure didn't return.
"Um, do I need to do anything?"
"Not tonight," the boy reassured him. "At least, nothing that you'll actually be aware of. But tomorrow might be a little… interesting. For you and anyone you come across."
And with that, the voice went silent, and Simon could tell that he had left for good, or at least for the evening. Leaning back in his bed, he thought for a long time about what had just happened, imagining what changes could happen to him over the course of the next few days. He didn't really have any idea what could happen, but he knew that it sure sounded exciting.
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