I came from the ground, at least that's what my earliest memory is, a cold sensation, like dirt, I think. Everything else I've had to pick apart myself and go off that. I don't know my purpose here, but over time, I gravitated towards a town off in the woods. Toward an open grassy plain, a small human sat in the middle.
It's hard for me to move around at first; my body isn't really suitable for the terrain I'm in. If I stay still in the dirt long enough, I start to bind with it. I start to feel sleepy, and I'm pretty sure that if it continued, I'd fall asleep for a long time. In the beginning, rocks were the only place I could rest for a while; hopping down hills takes a lot out of me, especially when the tumbling starts. Incidentally, that's how I first saw the small human when I finally stopped my tumble and opened my eyes.
I was afraid to get close to it; it was the first time I'd seen one of its kind, but I knew what they were from the beginning. Homo-sapiens, bipedal beings that reigned supreme in the hierarchy of Earth's food chain. But where did I land? At the bottom, maybe even the small human towered over me from far away, and I couldn't imagine having to match that. It's because of that difference, which made me curious, though. What were their lives like, and why did I feel so inclined to figure that out? Without making a conscious decision to do so, I follow the little human to a rundown building and watch it from afar.
I've been watching for a week now, and all I've learned is how foreign everything seems.
I put myself on top of this rock they have outside their house; to them, I look like a flower, so that's interesting. Trying to blend in with the other ones was originally my plan, but it looks like the rest of them are dead, so I suppose I stick out. The grass seems to be in a similar shape. How strange.
Moreover, I learned a good amount about the boy. That's right; that little human is a little boy, and his name is Gryce. He seems awfully skinny for his age. I see other kids like him around the house sometimes. I'm cautious about moving since they're always bringing him further away from the house, but they must be his friends. Sometimes he leaves his house with his head down; sometimes he runs before they come. I see him do an awful amount of running, to and from his home. For such a tiny human, he sure has a lot of energy.
There's a part of the day he's gone for a while, I don't have a way to tell time, and I'm too afraid to move, so all I do is watch during that time. Initially, it was difficult for me to tell how long I was waiting. I couldn't tell if I was looking at the same cloud or hundreds like it; my perception of everything is skewed, like I'm still forgetting something, that I'm doing something wrong, but that all goes away after five cycles; Gryce stays home for two cycles, and repeats it all. That's how I realized what the human cycle was.
In the week I watched Gryce, I only considered a small part of it actually watching. There are two others with Gryce, bigger humans, one shorter than the other. The one with the longer hair seems to think I'm strange; when they're back during a mid-cycle of the day, they sometimes go out of their way to look at me and say.
"Creepy".
As for the taller one, I didn't learn much from him either. He's gone for most of a cycle; I only see him at the beginning of one, and the very end. There wasn't anything to note about, really, but maybe it was because of my limited perspective.
It seemed like all these humans had entirely different lives outside of this home they'd built. Even so, I understood that the state of a home revealed how a family treated each other. And how others treated them. People would pass by and look, but others would stay watching, chatting amongst themselves, things like,
"How could they have a child in such a dump? We should do something about it".
"I knew we shouldn't have allowed them to come! All these years and look at it".
"It's time someone did something about this".
"They'll be gone soon".
It seems like this family is quite popular around here, but something tells me it isn't in a good way. I'm not sure what happened here before I came, but this family seems to have a history. That must be why this building is so much more damaged than others; a human building must reflect a family's history. Which means Gryce's family must've been in dire straits.
I'm not very in tune with what constitutes positive human words to others. Somehow, when I woke up, I knew some information about Earth, but everything but the things surrounding it seemed so far away from me, even though they were so close. Even then, I knew when Gryce's father was late to come home that something wasn't right. Without a second thought, I dropped from my rock and went in the direction I had always seen him in. Towards the far right of town. Towards the woods/
The streets were always empty at this time, so I didn't bother going on the side. Since to humans I look like a flower, I thought if anyone came, I'd just lie down. Foolproof! No one would suspect a flower on the road, and on the plus side, this way, there was no way of getting stuck. The idea of that is scarier than being seen; I'm not sure why, but above all else, I needed to avoid that.
In any case, I didn't know how far he'd gone, so it was something I had to guess. Everything seemed the same, but different in other small ways that I didn't understand all too well. The further I went, the fewer cracks there were, which made everything a little easier after a while, but harder in others. There were more lights, more houses, and ample time for anyone to come out and see me, but that wasn't a need for concern, not this time. My only obstacle was the end of the path, where the forest began again and light ceased.
But I didn't fret! Since there were no people around, I could let loose and stay away from the dirt. During the quiet times of the first human cycle, I was thinking of ways to get around more quickly. Of course, this would only work if no one were around. I realized that with my roots, I could extend them to any object and reel myself in. To prevent myself from touching the dirt entirely, I extended my roots to the nearest trees and climbed. Once I was there, I found the nearest branch and reeled myself toward the other. I repeated this until I saw a dim light in the distance. Without haste, I continued to advance until it became brighter. All I could think at that point was easing that… actually, I'm not exactly sure what I was feeling, but I didn't like it, and I knew the only way to mend it was to find him. And I did, but he wasn't alone.
In total, I believe I've only been on Earth for three human cycles. It seemed longer than it was, but even so, the amount I learned only took form when I arrived here. Within that span of two human cycles, I've seen animals of all species in various stages of decay. As soon as I was unearthed, I understood this: I understood death, and I knew that if I wasn't careful, it would happen to me too. What I didn't know was that this concept was not exclusive. That humans dwell in tainted depths, I was yet to understand the reason for.
That's when I learned at the end of my third human cycle. Humans kill, and if necessary, they'd kill their own kind. And yet, that wasn't what I asked myself. For the first time, I wondered what I was, where I came from, and, above all else, was there anything else like me, and if so, could I do the same to them? I couldn't come up with an answer, and I couldn't judge him. But my inaction that night was my answer. And it scared me until the beginning of the second cycle, as I followed his dad back home and settled back on my rock.