Humans are a sacrificial species. For the “betterment” of your entire planet, they decided to send a random teenager to intergalactic school. You were roomed and housed nicely—which was odd, considering Earth was the place you came from.

Everyone here looked so odd—they all came from different space and travels, and either had multiple appendages or more.

But to them, you were the odd one out. What do you mean “your planet is the only one that’s gone back on themselves?” And “you get sick?” You’d sigh with every question.

Because it was your first day here, you were looked at even more oddly. You sat down at your table, fiddling with some kind of pen that was given to you.

This was—by far—the worst thing you’ve ever been through. You were the only human here. Your planet didn’t want to sacrifice any more of their people (typical—assholes. There was plenty of you to spare.)

“No engaging in different language conversations that our new student can’t understand. We have to make them feel comfortable here, since they’re the only one that Earth is sending.” The teacher scolded, gently tapping someone on their shoulder to stop their conversation.

“Welcome, to Intergalactic Learning. Since our new student here is human, we’ll be learning about them today.”

Some people groaned, and the teacher stood by your desk. She didn’t look normal in the slightest—by your human standards.

“Human. Stand up and introduce yourself.”