You’re Not Really Human

It’s your 18th birthday and, upon it, you parents deliver some pretty shocking news: You’re not really human. They admit that they’ve been covering up the fact that you are actually a (fill in the blank). After hearing the news you still decide to go to school, but this school day is different than all your school days past, especially when it’s revealed to others what you truly are. Write this scene.

Post your response (500 words or fewer) in the comments below.

Want more creative writing prompts? Consider:

You might also like:

669 thoughts on “You’re Not Really Human

  1. othome22

    I woke up to the sun streaming through my window and birds tweeting in my ear. So I turned of the sun lamp and slammed the top off my alarm clock. I looked through my window to polluted skies and building as tall as… well…. skyscrapers. Another normal morning for me. As I stepped down the stairs I realized it wasn’t a normal morning. It was my 18th birthday, and I finally could leave the house. As I grabbed my bag and began to pack, I noticed something odd in my closet. It was the Mickey Mouse balloon my parents gave me every year since I turned 5 years old. I groaned and shoved it in the trash can… at least after I popped it.

    I stepped in the hall and walked into the kitchen for some oatmeal before I head to my friend Genies apartment. As I walked in the kitchen only to see my mom and dad sitting at the counter, grim looks on their faces. “Alice, we have something to tell you.”

    I looked in their eyes and saw despair, worry, and regret. I knew something was wrong. “We haven’t been fully honest with you. We aren’t actually truly human. At least, we don’t think so. We found you at our doorstep 18 years ago, you were in a metallic basket, floating low above the ground. There was a note, saying, this child is the future. She will change your world. Slowly, the grass died, more futuristic inventions were made, and the world turned into what everyone thought would happen in the future. Now honey, what year is it?”

    I was to shocked to speak. But somehow, I got out words. “2030. I was born in 2012.”

    “Now honey, in 2012, the grass was green, the sky was blue, and the Earth was beautiful. But fate put aside, you turned it into a world of despair and pollution.”

    I felt like I was going to faint. I destroyed the world. “But where do I come from?! Why did I destroy the world?! Why me!!??”

    “Honey, that is a story for another day. Now, who wants cake?”

  2. rebekkalynn9800

    My parents were in the living room when I woke up for school that day. They looked at me as I came down with my flaming red hair trailing behind me and my light blue skinny jeans, but they didn’t say anything. That is, until the door bell rang. I rushed to the door and opened it, party guests stood in the doorway smiling and holding presents! I welcomed them inside and sat at the head of the table my mother placed the cake in front of me, but there was something… Odd. I couldn’t quite figure out what though. My 18th birthday party went by so fast, everything was a blur of congratulations and hugs. I said goodbye to my friends and walked back into the living room. There, my parents waited. My mom was the first to speak, “Honey your father and I need to tell you something.” I was confused but sat down at the far end of the couch. My dad spoke up with a strange tone to his voice. I soon found out why. “Amber, we have been hiding something from you for a long time. You are not human.” They might as well have run me over with a steamroller. “But if I’m not human,” I paused before continuing, “What am I?” They glanced at each other and then at me. “You are the physical embodiment of the element of fire. However, we recently discovered that you also have the power of the element of ice. We don’t know how, but we do know that you are not alone in this. There are others with powers such as yours.” I started silently debating with myself. It was a battle between what I have known and what I know now. “Will I still be able to go to school?” I asked silently, more to myself then to my parents. “Of course!” My mom said cheerily. The day continued with many of my questions still unanswered. I woke up the next morning, wondering if it had all been a dream. But when I got to school, I saw that I was going to be late for the talent show that I had signed up for. I got there just in time. Up on the stage, I could feel all the pressure of everyone’s eyes on me. I panicked, and forgot what I was going to do. At that moment, flames leaped from every pore in my body. I remember screams and I collapsed on the stage. My vision began to darken and I slipped into unconsciousness.

  3. WritingisDreaming

    “Aaauuuhhh.” That was a good yawn. After brushing my hair I ran down the three stories of our little bed & breakfast home… in five seconds. I was just jogging and I hadn’t gone but two steps when all of a sudden I was moving so fast everything was a blur. I reached the main floor and jolted to a stop as if someone had hit the brakes, and tumbled to the floor.
    “Morning Rapunzel.” My mom said cheerily as if everything was normal about my graceful entry. “And oh my, today’s the super 1-8 isn’t it? You know why I say super? ‘Cause you have the triple supers again as I call them.” She was talking extremely fast, a sign of nervousness.
    Just then my dad looked up through his reading glasses (he was reading the newspaper) agreeing, “Yep.”
    I got nervous and glanced between the two of them and asked if it was some type of disease I should know about.
    My father only chuckled. “Punzel you’re right you should know, but no it’s not a disease.” Over in the kitchen my mom was nodding ferociously,
    “Uh huh. Yep. Go on honey tell her.” I had never see mum act so strange before.
    “Well you see you aren’t exactly human. The triple supers, as me and your mom call them, are super speed, super strength, and you have a super mind. So I guess you are human…. superhuman. You had them as a baby and then they were gone and now, they’re back! The weird thing was we never had powers.” I had begun to walk to the table where my dad sat. Think about something else, think about ANYTHING else! my mind was pumping.
    As casually as possible as I could I asked, “So what’s in the news?” I reached for the newspaper but it floated into the air and stayed there hovering. I stared at it.
    “Oh, did I mention that your brain’s so powerful that you can move things with it?” Things began to blur and sway and I felt myself falling. I felt myself go thump! and then everything went black.

  4. ThePrizm

    The school building loomed over me, like some powerful tyrant would to his fearful subjects. The place was a two story nightmare, complete with a gray composer. And I had been going to that hell hole for the past 4 years, or at least, 3.9 years. Today marked the second to last week of my stay in torture.

    I had been so ready, so eager, even, to graduate this year. But something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Every dream and goal I had set for myself after this horrible darkness was spoiled. It was all too insignificant now.

    My parents could tell I wasn’t taking the news too well. You know how you’re eighteenth birthday is supposed to be “Sweet Sixteen [plus] II! This time it’s personal!”? You finally get to be an adult, to be respected and treated as one. That’s the irony of this whole thing, see? How can I ever be a man when I’m not even human?

    I was beginning to rethink my decision now. My parents (could I even call them that anymore?) had given me the option to quit school, to quit faking being normal when inside I knew, I KNEW that I wasn’t. The other kids knew too. And they let it show through four years of suffering and torture.

    I took a step forward, then another. I had come way too far to let something, anything, stop me.
    The hallways were as bustling as ever. Students were chatting to each other, failing to open lockers, and dropping books at every turn. In other words, your typical suburban high school.

    But it wasn’t. Nothing was typical anymore. Not now.

    Even though I was trans-versed the horribleness that was the front door with a caravan of other teens, all eyes turned on me. Usually, a normal teenager would’ve loved this. They would’ve appreciated the spotlight and glamored in it.

    Ha. There’s that word again. “Normal.”

    And that’s when I knew they knew. They fucking knew; the information has trans-passed my family and entered the minds of privileged teenagers everywhere.

    And those teenagers, they’ll claim to LOVE fiction. But when the villain out of an age old horror novel enters their lives, they’ll react in the same way all those idiotic heroes do. That is, they’ll gang up on it and murder it.

    It was the calm before the storm. Silence rocked the place, only broken by students rushing off to class earlier, either to avoid the coming violence or simply out of apathy.

    I felt something flat hit my face. It was a literature textbook. Aka, the heaviest and thickest book used in our grade. I know this because more followed, succeeded by history, then math. I just happened to wonder if they were gonna throw their lunches next to symbolize break when I went I felt my conciseness slip.


This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.