Descriptive Essay About Green Alien

“Either you hit first, or you better go home.” This is what I have been told hundreds if not thousands of times by my grandfather since I was a child. Sounds brutal? In fact, it is not that cruel if you know the backstory. To consider the viciousness, taking place every day in the world, it is worth bringing up children the way my grandpa insisted upon, especially in case of a child like me. I was born premature, and my father welcomed his firstborn in a very “solemn” manner, “Is this tiny green alien my daughter?” So, the little green alien never ceased being an outlier/outsider in the context of a height which became the reason for the event that affected my whole life and molded me into a person I am now.

It is summer, 2005: my last year spent in Russia. I open my eyes as I hear my four-year-old brother’s voice who is asking whether I want to get a tan. The scope of my vision limits to a couple of big eyes of his as well as a pure sky in the background. A few seconds past, I lean on the ground with my arm comprising sand mostly, which is probably why my brother assumed me trying to sunbathe. It turns out that I am laying on the playground surrounded by fruit trees as well as traditional colorful houses just like in Russian cartoons. The one colored white and green is ours. Almost each of the rest of the households dwelling there includes at least a child, sometimes two or even more, of approximately my age, all Russians. Once I attempt to stand up, I feel a sharp pain in