If there's one thing I'll never forget, it's the way she changed my life. I never felt that good, until I met her. I never felt truly cared about, until I met her.

I never felt real pain, until I met her.

The pain doesn't hurt. It never did. I suspect I'll be in pain forever, actually, but I don't think I'll ever hurt. She made me miserable, oh yes, very miserable. It's the most incredible misery.

I think what drew me to her was her fear. She was afraid of me at first, and I kind of liked it. I'd never thought of myself as a sadist, but maybe I was wrong. It turns out that I'm a sadist by no means, but her fear still made me happy. And sad.

Before she died, she told me a secret.

She told me that she wasn't the only one afraid of me.

That really didn't come as a surprise, because people are afraid of what's different. And I'm definitely different, but she's not different from me. We're the same, I told her. Other people are different from us, but you shouldn't fear me. You are like me.

She disagreed.

She told me I was nothing like her. She said I'd never be like her. I was a complete stranger to her. You might be one if us, she told me, but you'll never be like us.

It saddened me to hear that, at first. All I'd ever wanted was to fit in. But when I realized what she was talking about, I felt better.

I have a sense of loyalty, to the past, that she'll never have.

But what set me apart most from the others was my sense of hope. I thought everything would be okay. Maybe it was foolish of me, but I used to lay awake at night thinking about what my life would be like in twenty years. I imagined the same things every girl wants. That was my problem. I'm not every girl. I'm not even human.

Neither is she.

I still remember the first time we kissed, and what became of that kiss.

I initiated that first kiss. I don't even know if she wanted it first. And I will never know if she's have become what she'd had to be with me if I hadn't pushed her. And let there be no illusions that I didn't. I wanted her, and I would have stopped at nothing to have her.

Or the time I came behind her and whispered warnings into her ear. I could hear her heartbeat then. She was so close to me. I nearly kissed her right there. But in the end, I waited. I waited until I thought she was ready.

We were sitting in her room, commiserating I suppose; because neither of us had sought each other out to gossip and giggle. In this one split second, I could have sworn I'd felt tension from her. Sexual tension. I walked towards her, and placed my lips on hers. She was surprised at first, but I think she realized that she couldn't avoid this. Destiny, I told her, strikes us in the most unlikely ways.

Destiny is bullshit, she told me, between sharp gasps.

No, Love, that's where we were all wrong. I understand that now. She never did, even in the end, but I do. I know that destiny is real. I know that you don't throw yourself at someone or something just because you're told you are supposed to. If everything happens for a reason, the knowledge of that will affect your judgment. Or so you think. You do what you believe you want to do. And in the end, it was planned. Everything happens for a reason.

Shouldn't that make it easier for me to understand why I am where I am now?

It should, but it doesn't.

I'm in pain.

I'm scared and I'm lonely, and I want her here with me more than anything I've ever wanted in my whole life. But I can't have that. I want to feel her next to me, her naked skin next to mine. But I can't. Her curvaceous body was breathtaking; it never ceased to amaze me. Her breasts would brush mine ever so slightly, and I'd practically lose it right there. That was all it took. Her name fell on my lips like an orgasm. She emanated pure sex, and not just the physically stimulating kind. I could come without even touching her.

And then the last day came for us. Neither of us knew it was the end. Everything was normal until she left for a moment.

I'll be back in an hour, she told me.

I'll be back in an hour. I'll be back in an hour. I'll be back in an hour.

She didn't come back.

They came for her.

"They" were a group of alien hunters that sought us out to exterminate us. They knew everything about us, who we were, where we lived. The secret unit of the FBI had never really gone away, it seemed. However, these people had left the government. They had other things in mind.

They caught her as she was leaving. They blindfolded her and told her she was going to die. She cried, and they laughed. They cut her clothes off, and stuck their fingers inside of her, telling her she would finally feel the real thing. She screamed, and they laughed louder.

They raped her, several times. Told her she was a stupid alien bitch. A fucking alien dyke. Kill those damn aliens!

They videotaped the whole thing, and then they sent it to me.

It even showed how they killed her. How they took the hunting knife and cut her slowly.

I listened while she screamed. Those screams have haunted me every night and day since. I hear them when I'm awake, and I dream of them when I'm asleep. The type of scream that will haunt me for the rest of my life, however long that will be.

It was long and tortured, and painful.

I cried.

When they finally killed her, and I watched it, my eyes locked on the grotesque vision, I stopped breathing. I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath until I passed out.

I've watched them kill us all since that day. Max and Michael, they were murdered too.

I dont know how Ive managed to survive, but I used to pray they'd come for me.

They never did. I survived all the known aliens on Earth. I can't go back home, and I'll never live in peace.

And I'll never have her with me again.

Isabel, I love you. I'm waiting to see you again...