Just to test, the boundaries of normality.
Hope you still remember,
That little planet who was kicked out because of its distance and size.
It is still spinning in the dark and forgotten corner of the atmosphere,
Frozen, yet moving…
Unseen, but heard…
The concept of normality was just not sinking into me. Honestly, how was it possible to be normal if the concept of it is different for each and every single person? Plus the fact that we actually weren’t normal just throws me off even more.
“Examine the body language of a human being,” Apollo had said “study their facial expression, movements. Everything counts, because one little mistake can throw you way off.”
I would like to see him try and become what he set off for us to be. Humans were just way off limits.
I’ve managed to remember not to walk straight into these solid matters they called “walls”, learned to drink water and eat food, and I am now able to control all parts of this human body well enough to do these athletic activates they liked to call “sports”.
I had to remind myself every morning that I was here for a mission, to save Earth from being damaged beyond repair by the humans, even though I was not aware at all of how I was going to do that. Without that reminder, I would probably have left this body long ago and went back to the outer atmosphere, to Pluto. I knew perfectly well that I didn’t belong here, like I didn’t belong anywhere, but that made me wonder why Apollo wanted me on this mission in the first place. Unlike the others, I couldn’t help by making rivers flow and trees grow, all I was capable of was bringing death and darkness, which was the exact opposite of what they wanted.
Being a night like any other, I was focused on the sight at the other end of an over-sized black stick. I had myself do this every night, the telescope had grown to be one—out of the few human inventions which I was familiar with. Finally, I stopped adjusting the angle of this equipment and stared at the beautiful sight of my Pluto. I managed to make out the tiny shape of my dear moon—Charon beside it.
It was another one of those nights where I just sat beside the telescope, not reacting to the sight of Pluto, waiting for dawn to melt through the windows.
I liked the silence lonesome brought to me, because I liked the freedom to do anything I wanted. It was what I had learned throughout the years of being a part of the solar-system, there’s even a beauty in despair. Because when you were the one who was extra; the one who didn’t need to exist; the one who was the furthest away; the one who was almost off track, nobody cared about you anymore. They disliked you for simply existing, for being Pluto.
I glanced at the pile of books over my desk, and then the thought of schooling occurred to me.
If I was correct, a school was a place where children got education, where they sat in rooms with tables lined in rolls with the same group of people while an adult stood in the front of the room talking.
I stood up. Apparently this school took up a big section of normality.
—Just to test, the boundaries of normality.