[ WP ] Throughout your childhood you are made fun of for `` making up your own language '' , till Earth is contacted by another race and you are the only one that understands them .

The ground started shaking violently. I recall that I was playing with my Spiderman when the aliens first made contact with Earth. Spiderman's expressionless face stood in stark contrast to my panic. Then the shaking stopped. There are no earthquakes in Florida, my parents were genuinely terrified and it terrified me to see them so scared. Their eyes were wide and they were not looking at me. They were looking outside through the living room window, but there was nothing to see. `` mike, my mother said urgently, turn on the news.'' My father let the curtains swing back down. He reluctantly tore his eyes from the window and crossed the living room. He fumbled with the remote for a moment, almost dropping it. The newsman was way ahead of us. There was a live feed to the Whitehouse lawn. My mother came to me then and ushered me silently over to the couch. We watched in silence and she held me close. We were confused and scared. They were arguing in their rooms again today and all I'd wanted to do was play with my Spiderman. There was a craft on the Lawn of the Whitehouse and news trucks were already on scene. The ship was not remotely ship-like by Earth standards. It looked like an organism, something alive. Pulsing and muscular and spherical. It began to speak. It spoke at length. Five minutes without end. We knew it was speaking. There were pauses and clicks and inflection in the sounds this ship-creature was making. I understood them perfectly. I knew this language. I made it up in a detention. It had taken me a solid week of after school detention to come up with it, but my parents, everyone on Earth were dumbfounded. The creature stopped it's speech and I turned to my mother. `` they're here for me mom, they know I'm watching.''
