"What is the meaning of this. Is this a joke!"
Faces that wore the expression of incomprehension stared back at me. Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed and let out a torrent of tears. Here I was, sitting in a room that looked as if it was out of Futurama, and strangers were looking at me as if I was a alien. And the worst fact of all was that this didn't even appear to be a dream. I could physically feel everything. Last time I checked there are not any physical objects, which you can touch and feel, in dreams.

I felt listless, even though I had done very little physical work. I sighed and looked up. The two strangers who were interrogating me had regained their phlegmatic, nonchalant and indifferent expression. I waited for one them to give me explanation as to why was stuck in this round, clack metal shell and what these jargons that were being fired at me like cannon shell meant. 

ASTAL (AGENCY STOPPING ALIEN LAWLESSNESS) (1)

Document 2

part 1

The moment I stepped outside the lift, I was met with a sight that displayed hundreds of people, each sitting in a cubicle, facing a holographic screen. On close inspection, I saw that they wore strange clothes. The clothes looked as if they were made out of wax, and they seemed to change in colour and flex like muscles. It was as if the suits were... alive. My attention was caught by a long, slender woman striding purposely towards me. She also wore a similar uniform to the others, but on her chest was nestled a golden badge which shone with pride. When she came before me, her shadow, which was a cliff, eclipsed my body; suddenly I was reminded of my robot-grandma. I shuddered. 

The woman, who spoke in a Russian accent, spelled out very distinctly;

"Follow me"

I complied, but with hesitation. She led me towards a mirror and adjoining was a simple, wooden door. After punching some keys onto a aluminium keypad that jutted out of thin strip of white wall that connected the magnificent mirror and the door, the door clicked open, and I followed the woman inside. 

The room that the door gave access to was mostly unfurnished except for an aluminium table on which sat two pure white luxo lamps. Adjacent to the table were two expensive leather armchairs, that sat opposing face each other. I was getting a feeling that I would soon have to endure an inquisition. Maybe I have seen too much of the dream. It was probably a wise time to wake up now. Mom never liked me sleeping till noon on a Sunday. I pinched myself hard.

Nothing.

A door opened. I seemed to not have noticed it before. Why does all doors seem to appear out of nowhere? Peculiar dream!!

A man emerged out of the door, heaving a huge suitcase besides him. He laid it subtly on the desk, and pressed his fingers onto five holes. With a click, the top cover of the case slid open, and gave way to numerous mechanisms; crackling and hissing to form a array of screens, controls and things that even my wildest imagination could have not conjured. My prediction was right, the dream was following a interesting trajectory indeed.

The man, whose belly was incomparable to any other I had seen in the past, wedged himself between the two arms of the leather chair; and I did the same, but with more ease. The instant my bottom touched the chair, the screens (which now appeared to me as extremely slim computers) started to cite my life history:

" Name: John Cherokee
Date of birth: 28/09/1999
Age: 998 light years at present day..."

I choked on the water that I was sipping.

The citation of my life-story stopped, and before I could ask any question I was bursting to answer, the man firmly asked me

"Do you accept that you are the person the quator just described you as?". He indicated to the screen. I nodded dumbly.

"Then, welcome to the AGENCY STOPPING ALIEN LAWLESSNESS, aka, ASTAL".
                                                                                                                  

My journey starts (2)

Document 1

part 2

Bright, white light encroached my eyes. I protected them like a mother would protect her baby, shielding them from the devilish sudden illumination that threatened to make them yield to its imperious ways. After a while, my eyes adjust to the change in light intensity. What lay before made my jaw drop all the way to the earth's core(only if that was possible!). 

A juggernaut black sphere with four gleaming legs had juxtaposed what had been the back fence of my Grandma's garden. The monstrous machine sat with ease. A hole started to form at the center of the part of the sphere that faced me. A sleek, red telescope propelled itself eagerly centimetres away from my face, inspecting every aspect of me until it was satisfied. Then, it retreated back into the red abyss, the hole that had previously marvelled from the centre part of the sphere that faced me. Just as the telescope (or whatever the inhabitants of the sphere would call it) was comfortably snug inside the red hole, and the red hole disappeared as swiftly as it had appeared. 

I prepared to pinch myself extremely painfully so I could arouse from this never ending nightmare dream and find myself snug in the warmth of my bed, when another incredulous thing happened. I decided that it would wise to see what happened next, after-all, tomorrow was Sunday and I was quite liking the direction the dream was going. It was turning out to be quite interesting. 

A green beam of matrix was shone across my body, like in the sci-fi movies, which soon disappeared and a door was fashioned, followed by staircase that led to the door. 

I walked up the staircase, twisted the knob of the door and entered a corridor that stretched  to infinity. The door closed firmly behind me as I circumspectly brisk-walked through the corridor. After what seemed eternity, I finally found a lift. Next to the lift door, was a button, about the size of a fist of a moderate troll. On it was a word, which read IDENTIFY in big, bold white capital letters. Sensing this was the button that would give me access to this ...peculiar lift, I pushed with all my might, because it was indeed hard to press. As I completed my task, and waited patiently to get a response to my action, I wondered to myself:

"Who was this button designed for? Surely not for a scrawny boy of fourteen years like me". 

The doors to the lift opened. Not a millisecond after I stepped onto the red velvety carpet that lay lazily across the floor of the grand lift, I was met with a similar beam of green light that I had encountered outside before I entered the sphere robot.

Silence.

Abruptly, the lift came to life and transported me to another level elegantly. It juddered to a halt. The opening of the door marked the beginning of a new life for me...  

           

My journey starts (1)

Document 1 

part 1

At the age of 14, most teens are either scared of ghosts (this is a slight probability), or scared that mum will find out that they have been... (ahem)... let me not enumerate the fears of a teenager of age 14, because some material may be inappropriate. But I was scared of something else. My worst nightmare was my grandma.

Yup, you read me right, I was scared of my grandma, Her innocuous looks could not viel my eyes from the truth; she was the most terrifying and ancient grandma that has ever walked this serene and maiden planet. When she would get up from her rocking chair (which would be a rare event by the way) her shadow would loom over me, like a shadow of approaching tsunami.

At one of the visits I made each weekend to my grandma with my mum, one of these rare moments occurred. The animate conversation between my mum and Aunt Rihanna, who had come to wish me happy birthday, immediately came to an abrupt end. They looked at my grandma expectantly, and I had the exact same expression on my face.

Grandma slowly turned her head towards me as she straightened up, in a way you would see a robot move in the Terminator. She pointed her index finger at me, curled the finger and then directed her gaze towards the back door that lead to the pitch-black garden. Then, she slowly whispered a single word, 'come', with her croaky voice, which was ever barely used.

Heart pounding, I rose from the antique armchair I was sitting on, which had its back towards the fireplace, and followed my Grandma through the back-door. As I stepped out onto the soft grass that spread across the fairly big garden, I felt a eerie calm descend on me.

Grandma did not stop walking. After a moment of hesitation, I resumed following her. Suddenly, she stopped and turned towards me. As if I was under a spell, I stopped, just barely a meter from Grandma. She raised her walking stick, aimed it at me as if it was a gun. Suddenly, I found myself flying across the garden. I landed onto the ground with a loud THUD.

A terrible pain ripped through my back. Grandma started towards me. She raised her walking stick, or actually a walking stick/gun for the last time. I heard a crack, but it didn't come from the walking stick, but instead from somewhere behind. My grandma fell and she changed. She was a robot. I stifled a sob...          

Prologue

I am not famous, neither have I done anything famous. But then, why shall you be reading this accounts of my life? Or in better terms, this autobiography. Well, here is your answer. I may not be famous, nor have I done anything to be famous for, but my experiences are remarkable. Experiences so extraordinary, they are alien.

So welcome. Welcome to the world of John Cherokee.