=Well, here we are again. It is now 11:23pm, on the eve of my birthday, and I find myself in bed grinning like a maniac. I lie there, sequentially checking my social media accounts between grins, while the minutes breeze by with the speed of molasses. I have never really had any excitement to be an adult, but a birthday is a birthday. The digital clock on my cell phone strikes twelve; the alarm I set begins blaring music. I immediately hop out of bed and a wide range of ridiculous dances explode from my body. My stamina runs thin as I start to do The Worm. My mother peeks through the crack in the door.

“Well, that isn’t the oddest thing I’ve seen you do,” she says with a laugh, “Happy birthday, Boopy!” she exclaims.
“Thanks, Mom” I reply, “Whacha get me?”
“Well… the truth for starters,” she says.
“About what” I say confused, though with constant energy.
“Who you are,” she answers, “You’re not like everyone else.”
Believe me, this I am aware of.
Seeing the smart remark and the disbelief on my face, she continues, “I mean you ain’t even human.”
Hmm… not human she says. I mean I had a theory but for her to be serious about it is shocking.
“Alright, alright out with it, am I mermaid? Am I a half-blood, perhaps? Oh, I know, I’m Super Wap, the girl who cou-”
“Jay, shut it,” she says, compromising my fun, “You’re a PastryPerson.”
Umm… what?
“A PastryPerson,” she repeated, “we are from planet Glucose.”
“Whoa, whoa, back up a second there Duncan Hines. We’re what?”
“PASTRYPEOP-, we’re like walking cookies okay? Well, the dough anyway. We’re actually strikingly similar to the Pillsbury Dough Boy.”
Oh. My. Goodness. I’m a cannibal. I’m a freaking cannibal and she said nothing all these years.
“If this is so true why are you just now telling me?”
“Well, when you were born, our planet was under attack. We were being invaded by the Faticles from planet Pounds. Our ruler called an emergency evacuation to the next best planet and vaccinations were developed to make us look like the people there. The children’s vaccines however only last until they are eighteen years of age. So that, upon learning the truth, they can either decide to go back or request another vaccine and stay on Earth. Our ruler had a CleanTeam return to Glucose after the invasion to clean and reconstruct the entire planet. It has been up and running again since you were eight and PastryPeople have been returning constantly ever since.”
She paused briefly, allowing me to take everything in I suppose. Boy, has she got her script thought out or what?
“It is important that you make your decision before your birthday is over. Get some rest, dear.”
She leaves and the urge to taste myself while she was talking takes over. I lick my hand and, to my disappointment, taste extremely human. Lost and still excited all at once, I flop into bed and get comfortable. I drift to sleep and wake up to the smell of breakfast. I shower, get dressed, and grab my food as I head out. I notice I smell exactly like snicker doodles and I have an unusual but stunning glow today.
“Oh, yeah,” I think, remembering the talk from earlier that morning.
Then, my stomach drops. Am I going to turn into a Twinkie in the middle of class? Is that why mom said it was so important for me to decide today? As if I don’t have enough problems. I make it to school and survive the first half. I head to the break room with everyone else. As I sit and scroll on my phone I felt a stare. I look up and notice a boy in the far corner, salivating over me it seemed.
“Ha-ha, that glow of mine is something I else,” I smirk to myself and return to my phone.
The feeling of someone staring at me does not subside though. It worsens. The ambience of casual conversation from my peers began to decrescendo. I look up again, slowly this time, in fear of what I might see. As I half-expected, the entire room had their eyes fixed on me. Strangely, they had the same look the boy in the corner had. They begin to inch closer towards me, licking their lips with anticipation. My eyes wide, I comprehend their intentions and bolt for the door. Sprinting down the halls and out the double doors, I run across the parking lot flailing my arms and screaming like a banshee. I unlock my vehicle and get inside. I slam the door and frantically finger at the ignition.
“My keys,” I panicked. “I dropped my keys!”
I open the door again, starting to get out and I freeze. The boy from the corner was standing just feet away. My keys were inches from my left foot.
“A simple and quick motion would get me out of here,” I thought, “If I’m not quick enough, I’m a goner.”
Seconds passed. Snatch! SLAM! A high-pitched scream pierced the air. I look out the window and see the boy on the ground, his fingers caught in the door. Careless, I start the car and pull off, letting his body drag for about 6 seconds before quickly opening the door and freeing him. I speed home, run into my room and pounce on the bed. I cover myself in blankets and try to calm myself down.
“I have to go to Glucose.”