Aliens Do Exist

I have this cousin named Callista. She is a month younger than I am and lives in Jakarta with her parents over the summer while going to Malaysia for the college months. We're roughly the same height, same weight. Both of us have straight, white teeth. The similarities stop there.

Over the summer, she helps her mom at the office from Monday to Saturday, 8am - 6pm. On Sundays, she goes to the temple to pray, do charity work, and whatnot. On her evenings, when she isn't doing her summer homework, she goes out for a night with her boyfriend, with whom she has not yet shared her first kiss. I think they go to the mall, maybe watch a movie or grab a bite to eat. They couple comes back around 9 or 10pm.

Her room is small, but tidy. The stuffed animals and blankets lie neatly arranged amongst her pillows while her books are stacked (alphabetically, I suspect) in rows underneath her little television set. On the wall facing the bed, 4 New Year's Resolutions are posted on a clean sheet of paper. They read: Get in shape (though she already is), Focus on my studies (though she already does), Get a job (aside from her other one), and Do my best (whatever that means.) Next to her bed is a fold-out wooden plank that she uses as a humble study desk (among other uses.)

She wears color-enhanced contacts so that the artificial amber in her eyes bring out the cute spread of freckles sprinkled across her nose and the apples of her cheeks. Other than that ornamental blemish, her skin is smooth and clear. Whenever she goes out, she is dressed in a carefully prepared outfit that both modestly covers her body and shows off just enough to turn heads. As she takes her even, dainty steps through the streets, her long, wavy hair curls over her shoulders, swaying and bouncing with a life of its own.

She can cook, clean, sew, mend, what have you. When she talks, little children obey the commands issued in that sweet, demure voice. She is a natural-born leader and a natural-born caretaker. She is not two-faced. She does not lie. She does not even masturbate. She has no trouble making friends because everyone likes her from the first moment she smiles and extends her hand. Not a single adult has ever complained about her. She never fights with her parents (really?), and my mom and dad think her lovely and well-behaved. She does what she is told and does not ask questions. She does not shout. But she cries most beautifully and emotionally, letting tears slide down her cheeks in polished rows. She is genuine, she is nice, and she wants to marry someone of her own ethnicity. She is indescribable.

A few nights ago, I was eating with her and a few other friends at the dinner table, scarfing down the last remnants of our meal because we were given only 25 minutes to eat. With 5 minutes to go, I had given up trying to have a healthy, well-paced meal days before and was now idly arranging individual rice grains to form the shape of a certain phallic symbol on my plate. Callista glanced at my unfinished food, wrinkled hernose just ever-so-slightly, and ventured, "You are going to eat your food, right?" I paused and looked up at her. "You should finish it," she added, cocking her head to the side like my mother and grandmother always do whenever they want me to do something. For a moment I stared, too surprised to respond, and at last said, "Sure, of course." She smiled, nodded her head in agreement, and got up to put her dishes away. As soon as she left, I grabbed a handful of rice, flung it over the table, and rose out of my chair to leave without saying a word.

Her name is Callista Roesli, and she gave me this absolutely appalled expression when I told her that the only thing I haven't done yet is sex. In literary terms, we are each other's foil. In laymen's terms, she is everything I will never be.