A faint, shuttering swish of a noise starts to creep up into the house stabbing Lars and I with surprise. I suggest it may be coming from outside, so we both quickly scurry out our door towards the front street to have a look. “What do you think it is honey?” Lars says in deep admiration. My eyes breathe in curiosity at some mysterious object hovering about a mile above us. It’s huge. While circular in stature, this does not look like your typical Spielberg doohickey. Spikes corner the brim of this colossal disk, with every inch of it a metallic red; an extremely soft red, almost brown. Everyone on our block begins to pour out of their little residencies. From this vantage point, I finally realize how small our place is. I finally take in how insignificant we really are.
You see, my boyfriend Lars and I work at a local around – the – clock bar with a 60’s setting. He’s got the night shifts, whereas I work during the day. Time is rarely spent between me and him; We’ve been working full time for quite a while now. As high school sweethearts growing up, puppy love essentially masked all of the things that were actually important for us. He introduced me to various illegal remedies. We partied. We kissed. We just wasted our time. My girlfriends left me; whereas I left them for drugs. Thank you Lars, thank you so much. Soon after my junior year (and his senior year) Lars decides to induce me into living with him. While I was being so gullible, and with he being extremely convincing and oh so good-looking, I made my regrettable decision. I was seventeen; an avid dope-head who couldn’t care less about my educational marks. Where were my parents through all of this you may ask? Basically, my mom and I did not have the typical Mother – and – daughter fling going on for almost four years thus far. This was mainly because Dad left that cheating hag I call Mom after a twelve year marriage. I’m not even engaged to Lars and things are already somewhat depressing. I would never cheat on Lars; it’s just sometimes I really feel as though I don’t have to cheat on anyone for them to leave me. I wouldn’t say I’m a miserable person; I just don’t have any faith in the direction my life is going. I had absolutely no guidance growing up. No support. Sure, my Oxford University sniffing sister had all she ever wanted, and then some, but I really wish things could have been a lot different. Why couldn’t I be the oldest girl?
“Don’t call me honey. Looks like something out of those stupid sci-fi shows you watch.” I snap sarcastically. Lars gives me a soft smile as his eyes scan the gargantuan spheroid upon us. Another odd thing happens. Clouds start to slowly swirl into a spiral on the outskirts of this unknown mass like a tornado would a town. I can feel the wind picking up and the temperature dropping a bit, rendering my black, short, anime-like bush-of-a-hairdo to sway sharply. I brush a chunk from my eyes. Our area of neighbors begins to whisper to each other as if they knew what were going on. This t-shirt is just too thin. I jump from the sudden vibration lifting the hairs of my thighs against my skinny jeans. Gosh, we all must feel pretty anxious. I reach into my pocket. Oh, it’s Claire, the Claire from Oxford. Too bad she’s just too perfect to live in this cubicle of a town with Lars and I. Trees and ferns surround our cul-de-sac in a gyratory fashion. Answering the phone; I stick a finger into one of my ears to muffle the crowd in the background. “Hey Cee, you’re not going to believe this.” I say. “I already know dear, you should probably get out of there; you just might be on TV.” Claire then explains to me how she can see Spring Valley on a newscast, and how people are talking about a local unidentified hovering object that could be the talk-about for years to come. Just as we were about to say our distant goodbyes, Lars pokes me on my side to grab my attention and I lose my grip. My phone almost kisses the asphalt before my couple of years of softball came into play. “Holy eggs, I think it’s getting closer. I would really, really like to know what’s going on!” Snaps Lars. He was right. Almost as soon as I looked away for one second, the ship almost doubles in size. I notice all of the little markings and intricacies boarding the center of this galactic marvel. Could this be it? Could this be the first signs of alien contact? I mean, I was never into this type of thing, nor did I believe it. But with all of the galaxies forming clusters and billions of stars within those billions of galaxies, this was only inevitable. The silent whispers once coming from a curious bunch were now screams reverberating against the spacious placement of our houses. I wish I was wearing dad’s old sweater he gave me before he left, it’s freezing.
Rewind to a time where I once lived with my Mom and geeky sister. “What…Oh…My…This can’t be real. I got into Oxford little sis!”Claire used to have so much enthusiasm when she got things that were just way above my grasp. Gosh, if I only had a time-machine. “Mom’s not going to believe this!” She roared. This was when I was still a junior in high-school and didn’t even know who Lars was at the time. I searched for my pills. You could say this was my peak of misery at the time. I popped a couple. “Yea, maybe you’ll get a pony. Or even a submarine!” I retorted; swallowing hard. “Anyways, I got to run Cee; I’ll see you in the morning.” I think at the time I was just too cool for hugs and kisses. Maybe cool isn’t the word, but I apply a soft amount of make-up and comb the blondness that was once my very own authentic hair. No one has to look half as good as this for a local bar. Sure the interiors’ lush brown windowpanes and scarlet marble countertops looked a bit too fancy for my taste, but when people are drunk and drugged up to the point of disregard, it’s like a nightclub from the city. Oh yeah, and an immense canvas of the Rat-Pack looking down at all of us while we drink our hearts out made it all the better; Got to love that 1960’s setting.
I start to sweat. What the hell. The circular disk up top starts to shake and rumble loudly, screams upon screams stacking on top of one another. The edges of the ship start to rapidly spew out metallic spikes that are probably around three feet in length, fiery with a red hue. They jet down towards our unit with rigorous potential. The pavement shatters into a thousand pieces everywhere around me; burning black orbs in pairs. I lose sight of Lars. Blast. People start running away helplessly; Lars included. I stand deathly still. Splat. With most of us drenching in blood, and smoke masking everywhere around us, like something out of a horror flick, I hesitantly run away from the ship until I trip over something lifeless. But this was no horror flick, and this mass was not a lifeless something; but someone. He was lying in some awkward fetal position. “P-please try and help me. This thing is inside my back!” he squeals. Thud after thud. I take a gander at the rod in his back, explosions still shaking up the neighborhood citizens. Crash. His wound starts to burn at its entry. “Take it out! Get the damn thing out of me! Please…” He shrieks. I lay a finger on the strange, glowing dowel in an attempt at removing it. A scream bursts from my mouth. It burns. It really burns; black nail polish smears alongside my cuticles. The man’s wound transforms into a frenzy of smoldering liquid, turning his screams into silent squeals and deep panicked breaths. His gash oozes with the combination of human lava and blood. Knowing that he will be dead in seconds, I rush to find Lars. Should I even bother? Lars cheated on me and I found this out all by myself. Bang. There’s debris all over me; I graze some off with my bloody and burning fingers. Lars never even admitted it.
Jump back to the same time as before. The phone rang. One of my friends was waiting outside for me. I quickly finished up my little dress-and-makeup session and fled to the door; ignoring Mom with not a look, nor a word. We arrived at the Shot City, such a friendly and cozy area to spend time with people who have not a care in the world. We found a place by the bar-stand and seated ourselves. “Do you want to talk about it dear?” She said, knowing that she probably didn’t care one bit. “Ah, it’s fine. Dad knew what he was doing; I just can’t believe how torn I am by this.” I took a shot of whisky; it went down nice and hard. “I freaking’ miss every inch of him though, and it hurts.” Tears gushed smoothly from my eyes unto the bar top. I was rubbed in comfort for about half-a-minute until my friend moved to her own little gathering of strangers, leaving me at the bar. “Hey guy over there, another shot over here!” I declared jokingly, with minor tipsiness. I used to relish the surprisingly cliché sound of cue balls slapping their billiard relatives momentarily zooming through the environment. This was the only thing that kept me from crying the whole night; Oh, and the booze. I then noticed some guy standing by the pool table, ogling me like some horny toddler watching a Victoria’s Secret ad for the first time in its life. I guess that black and white Paul McCartney had some real competition. Too bad he couldn’t move and was stuck on a wall with his fellow band-mates. Gosh, such love I had for that picture frame. Drunkenness had not befallen me yet; No one mentioned that it was a bad thing to mix uppers and alcohol. After a couple of more shots, a soft, sexy voice started to penetrate the hairs of my ear canal. “Hey gorgeous, can I buy you a drink?” Lars said in a supple way.
