Do Aliens Live Among Us?

https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/18th-century-book-cover-prove-8880692?u...

There is a book that was written over three hundred years ago and the cover depicts a flying saucer-shaped craft travelling through the air over water. Under the craft, the water is choppy and stirred up. It's not a hoax. The work, written in Latin and authored by Johann Caspar Funck, a renowned mathematician of his day, was published in 1716. So, how could someone who lived long before flying saucers became as commonplace as they are now, know about the phenomenon?

When you think about it, if these types of craft are not weather balloons or mass hallucinations, and are in fact, alien in origin, then it wouldn't be difficult to imagine they have been coming here for thousands or even millions of years. Why would they bother is the $64000 question?

Water might be one reason...and the hydrogen they could extract from it. Clean and efficient; a source of fuel that Earth has an abundance of. It's possible we might be a convenient stop on Milkyway Route 66.

We might be an experiment for some unknown purpose or simply be of interest on an evolutionary level...where they observe but don't interfere. There might be a law where they are not allowed to reveal themselves until they consider us ready to deal with it. Perhaps those who rule the world already know about what these crafts are and their purpose. It's even possible that they are the visitors masquerading as humans, after all, if they can travel between galaxies, then anything is possible. We know more about space (which is very little) than we do our own planet. At least, when it comes to the depths of the oceans where they could easily hide from us.

All conjecture, I know, but my curiosity peaked one night a few years ago, and the following story, which is absolutely true, at least as I saw it, relates to that experience. I must admit that both Aimee and I were on drugs at the time and it is easy to discount what I saw as a hallucination. I have considered this possibility and cannot fully discount that may be the case. I am no greenhorn when it comes to drug taking and like to think I know the difference between the two possible conclusions...either I imagined what I saw or it was real.

There are things about the experience that to me, defy that take on the matter. But, I admit I still have trouble believing, so it is understandable, given the circumstances, that others will discount it as simply a hallucination...although, my gut tells me otherwise.

*******

“They're here.” Aimee's words trailed off as her focus on whoever 'they' were intensified.

She sat on the floor of my bedroom staring off into the distance towards a cupboard against one wall.

I thought it was funny and asked,” Who's here, Aimee?”

She turned her head slightly towards me, but never let her focus go from whatever or whoever it was that had her attention. She didn't reply to my question and all I got was a dismissive shake of her head.

I was sitting on my bed with what I imagined was a big stupid grin on my face. At this point, I climbed down off the bed and sat in front of her but just off to her right. We both had our legs crossed in front and our hands in our laps.

I persisted,” Who are they?'

She shook her head in the same manner, then turned her face towards me. I will never forget that look...pure contempt and hatred. This wasn't funny anymore.

“You have no idea what's really going on in this world, do you?” The voice was one I had never heard before...male, deep and guttural. The question was obviously rhetorical, so I just sat there trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

*******

I had known Aimee for about six weeks. She was staying in my spare room temporarily. When she first arrived, I introduced Aimee to my mother and mom took an instant dislike to her. I had never seen her react like this to anyone, either male or female. I asked that Aimee stay for a few days and Mom refused. We had a serious argument (the first I can remember) whilst Aimee watched on. But instead of looking embarrassed, I noticed that Aimee had a smile on her face. In the end, I got my way and Aimee got to stay.

My Mom is special and senses things that are not obvious to most people. In retrospect, I now understand what it was she saw in Aimee that made her react with such intensity.

*******

When I heard Aimee speak in a male voice, I was puzzled, but not afraid. I stared at her in fascination, wondering what was going on.

As Aimee spoke, she retained that look of contempt. Her eyes were fixed on my own and then, she glanced down towards her lap, urging me to do the same. My eyes drifted downwards. Her hands were resting in her lap and as my gaze fell upon them, I saw something that shook me to the core. As long as I live, I will never forget that image. Her left hand was normal in appearance, but all of my attention was fixed on her right hand.

It was larger than a human hand, perhaps half again as big. The fingers were long and thin and I could make out the skeleton through the paper-thin 'skin' on the back of her hand. It was light brown with a green purplish tinge and covered in what I first thought were scales, but they weren't scales and were more like serrations, with one prominent raised scale behind each of her four knuckles.

Anatomically, the hand I was observing (very briefly) wasn't that much different to my own, except for one (or five) things. There were four joints in each of her digits, instead of the three I had always known...with opposing thumbs (it makes sense that the hand is universally configured by functional necessity).

Within a second or two, I recoiled from the shock of what had confronted me. I was back up on my bed faster than I knew I could move as I screamed, “What the (expletive) was that, Aimee?”

At that point, she came around from the trance-like state she had been in for the last five or so minutes and had no clue about what I had just seen. However, she did say she doesn't normally see them but senses them. But this time, she had seen one. She told me his name and although I remember every detail of what had transpired, to this day, I still can't remember it. I asked her later if she remembered the name, but she was adamant she didn't know it, and I got the feeling that she didn't want to know. It's like that one detail was plucked from my mind. Maybe his name is important to them. All I remember about the name was it was strange and not one I have ever heard before.

*******

Two nights later, Aimee was outside on my patio talking on her phone to her new guy. I was in my room lying on my bed and must have fallen asleep. What felt like a minute or two later I awoke to someone or something big and heavy pinning me down to the bed. I could feel its strength as I screamed in terror. I fought as if my life depended on it, but I COULD NOT break free.

Instinctively (because in those moments there isn't much thought going on), I kicked both my legs upward and as high as I could, but still it (whatever it was) held my upper body down. I repeatedly kicked my legs up as high and as hard as I could but I was met with the same result. Then, on the third attempt, it let me go and I landed on my bedroom floor, surrounded by pillows and my doona.

My mom was yelling out, asking if I was OK. She thought Aimee's ex-boyfriend had broken in and we were fighting. I told her I was OK, and it was just a bad dream (which, if I use common sense, is more likely than the alternative). I got up off the floor, turned on a light, and got back into my bed with my knees up to my chest (because that was all I could do to bring myself some form of comfort).

I texted Aimee, and when she came into my room, her reaction was non-existent and dismissive. I had never before experienced anything like that and I hope I never do. The next day Aimee left and I haven't seen or heard from her since...and I never want to.

*******

Aimee has BPD...Borderline Personality Disorder. She told me she had no memory of her mother up until she was around thirteen years of age. She also said that while growing up, her father was often in hospital and she always feared he would die. But she said that is the only recollection she has of her childhood. I was convinced she wasn't human, and for quite some time, I wondered if she had a childhood at all and if she was even aware of what she is...an alien masquerading as a human.

She had this strange ability to get whatever she wanted from me. It was like she had cast a spell over me. I was compelled to help her in any way she asked. And it wasn't just me she seemed able to control. One night we were at a club and we became separated. I eventually found her in the gaming area playing a slot machine surrounded by four or five men. It appeared to me like they were awaiting her command, yet she was paying them no attention whatsoever.

I have to admit, I did find her attractive. She wasn't drop-dead gorgeous by any means, but she had something going on that had men flocking to her, myself included. And even though I knew she was just using me (temporarily until something better came along), during those four days we spent together, I did whatever she asked of me. I felt powerless, and it was the only time in my life I had been controlled in that way.

At one point, I told her I was a writer and asked if she would listen to one of my poems. Her look told me that she was unimpressed and then said words to the effect that she didn't want to hear it. Thinking I could win her over, I ambushed her and read the poem. She looked at me completely bored and once I was finished, she said, and I quote, “That meant absolutely nothing to me.” Cold and flat.

I took the 'hint' and didn't read to her again.

*******

Do I really believe she is an alien? Common sense tells me no, she isn't. Logic is my way of getting around in the world, but what I witnessed that night defied logic. A hallucination? Well, here's the thing. Ok, I can accept that theory except for one detail. It was Aimee who indicated that I should look down (with her eyes). So, if it was a hallucination, how did she know that I needed to look down to see MY hallucination?

I wish I could draw hands because I can still see it...that hand will be etched into my mind forever.

If, for argument's sake she can walk around masquerading as a human without anyone (but me) knowing what she is, it makes me wonder how many others are out there doing the same. It would make sense for them to give them that edge so they become presidents, prime ministers, doctors and psychologists. These positions would benefit them the most. And if I were one of them, and someone showed up at a practice telling a story like this, I would diagnose psychosis or schizophrenia...labelled and medicated so I am never believed or taken seriously.

I'm smart enough to write about the experience (because it might simply be a fictional story and not a recount of actual events) but never talk about it to anyone who might want to help me with my condition. I did consider hypnotherapy to take me back to that night and thereby provide the possibility of some degree of authenticity...or even a polygraph, which I KNOW I would pass. But if aliens are running around and I make too much noise, perhaps they might return. I'm not out to prove anything...which I think is lucky for me.