Hello loyal readers!
So that was a nice two month hiatus, eh? I had an extraordinarily boring detail last night, sitting alone in a tiny booth, pushing one button to lower a barrier, and pushing another to raise it back up. So I had a lot of free time. This is how I spent it. Except for the two hours when Michelle came to visit with chicken wings from the bar :)
The Prompt: You always look out the dark windows into the sky and wonder what’s out there. One night when you look, a small face with bright eyes is staring back. What do you do, who/what is it, and why are they there?
My Story:
Megan was bored. Every day she led the same routine. Wake up, go to school, come home, have dinner with parents, go to bed. And fit homework in there somewhere. Every day it was the same, never wavering. So it was no wonder that day dreaming was a favorite pastime for the twelve year old. It was pretty much the one thing that could break up the monotony of her day.
Her favorite place to pass the time in such a manner was perched on the windowsill of her bedroom window, staring up at the dark sky sprinkled with millions of bright, twinkling stars.
That’s where Megan sat now. After a particularly tense dinner, during which mother chose to bring up a recent discussion with Megan’s teacher concerning Megan’s chronic day dreaming habit, Megan quickly escaped to the quiet solitude of her bedroom. She could barely even call it her bedroom. Mother had decorated (or not decorated it, which may be more fitting) and it lacked any sort of personal touch. The walls were painted a dull mauve and were devoid of any hangings. The carpet was grey and the bedspread matched the walls.
But the view; that’s the one thing Megan loved about her room. When she looked out her window to the unobstructed sky, she felt free, as though she could do anything, go anywhere, the possibilities were endless.
Megan sighed lightly as she gazed longingly at the stars now. She unwound the tight bun of bright orange hair that rested on top of her head as she tried to imagine what else might be out there, possibly gazing back at her and wondering the same thing.
She picked up her hairbrush from the dresser that stood a few feet from her perch and began to gently brush out her long hair, pausing briefly to mentally complain about how the bright orange clashed horribly with the fuchsia hue of her skin. Why couldn’t she be blue-skinned like her best friend Kelsey? Even green would go better with her color hair than (gag) fuchsia.
Then she wondered if beings from other worlds agonized over the same problems. Surely not. Aliens must be so carefree. What would they have to worry about, living on exotic, unimaginable worlds?
Megan lowered her eyes from the sky and came back to reality. And gasped as her heart stopped. Outside her window, staring back at her from the sill, was a small face, with bright, green, glowing eyes.
She blinked. And blinked again. The face remained. But now, the longer she looked at it, the more she saw. The face came attached to a little body, which clung to the outside windowsill and seemed to be dressed up in some kind of suit. From head to foot, the entire creature could barely be half of Megan’s height. And the bright eyes, they didn’t seem to be eyes at all, but part of some kind of mask. Why they were glowing, Megan hadn’t the first clue.
A scream bubbled up in Megan’s throat, but she quickly dropped the forgotten hairbrush and covered her mouth with both hands to stifle the noise as she jumped to her feet. Part of her wanted to run screaming from her sanctuary. But then, isn’t this what she’d been wanting? Something new and exciting to interrupt her boring life? Granted, this little person with the glowing mask might not bring excitement into her life per se, but it certainly was new, and definitely different.
Megan lowered her hands and forced herself into calm before slowly opening the window.
“H-Hello-o,” she stammered out nervously.
“Hello,” the little person responded. The voice sounded odd, unnatural. It sounded fake and almost seemed to echo slightly. “Please excuse my appearance. I cannot survive in your climate and must wear this suit to live. I am from a planet called Earth, several light years away. I have been sent on a mission to find life on other planets.”
Megan’s jaw involuntarily fell open. A million questions flashed through her head at once, but the one she settled on was, “How can you speak my language?”
“We have been studying your planet covertly for some time now. I am using an electronic translator to communicate with you. The similarities between our races are astounding. We are looking for volunteers to come back with us for further information exchange.”
“Back?” Megan asked. “To your… Earth?”
“Yes, my planet. We have created an environment chemically similar to yours so that you won’t suffocate in our world.”
Megan looked at the little person hanging from her windowsill while she debated this invitation. Information exchange? So she would get to learn about a whole other planet, firsthand and not from books? Did she really have to think about this?
No. She didn’t.
Grinning, she said, “Let me just pack a bag.”
**
Poor Megan. If only she knew how horrible Earthlings are. Because you know she ended up dissected on a lab table.
I know it's kind of nerdy and lame, but hopefully typos are at a minimum and you found some kind of entertainment value. There is a companion piece. The next writing prompt just seemed to go hand in hand with this one. It just needs to be typed and proofread so hopefully I should have it up soon.
Leave some love!
Ren
