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I like to write. Anything rele. My journal has stories I wrote.

The Invasion (beggining)


The lights flickered in the appartment and that distraction helped me to realize that I had been staring off into space. With a long, exaggerated sigh I stood up from the worn couch with the thin leather and stretched my arms.

It was around midnight I estimated and my mom hadn't gotten back from work yet because being a doctor meant no leniant schedule. It meant she saw hospital paitents more than she saw her own daughter and it also meant that I was at home, alone on a Friday night. Other sixteen year olds were getting fake ID's and getting into clubs. But not me, I barely had a handful of friends, and they were all really just aquaintances. I was spending my Friday night nodding off on the couch waiting for my mother to come back from work, it was very pathetic.

I leaned down and snatched up the blanket on the couch, wrapping it around me to stay warm. I didn't know what to do so I went into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. Even though my mom worked late she was pretty good about getting home before midnight, I was bored and worried so why not call and check up on her?

I punched in the Hospital number from memory and heard the connection on the other line, I waited.

"Hello, Beth Israel Medical Center, how may I help you?" I finally heard the voice of Ms. Frenna the front desk clerk and smiled. She was pretty nice.

"Hey Ms. Frenna, it's Bren, d'you know if my mom left yet? I asked through the phone hoping she already left. I switched the phone to my other ear.

"Oh, yea she left like two hours ago sweetie, wait hold on," I waited as I heard her say a muffled, "Yes, right down the hall to the left." The phone made a staticy sound as she came back on. "Why, is she not home yet?"

"No," I replied growing more than a little bit worried. "But thank you, I'm sure she'll be home soon, bye." I hung up knowing how busy Hospitals could get. It would not take my mom more than an hour to get back home usually, even if she stopped at the store to pick something up.

I put the phone back on the reciever and walked into the bathroom. It wasn't a particularly large bathroom but it had a sink, toilet, and shower and that was good enough for me. I hovered over the mirror and stared back at my reflection. I had wavy reddish-blonde hair that was difficult at times but was just hair. My eyes were a teal color on good days and a shady gray on others, they had a mind of their own. My face was oval and supported my wavy hair that I had tugged back into a long braid stopping just past my shoulders. I wasn't pretty or ugly but simply different.

I twisted the handle on the sink and let the water run out. Cupping my hands, I gathered the water and splashed it on my face. The coldness of it waked me up and restored my senses. I dried my face and left the bathroom on a mission.

My mother was not late coming home. Something must have happened when she left work, she could be hurt, or maybe she was mugged. It was New York, afterall.

I pulled my coat on over my long sleeved tee-shirt and tucked my key in the coat pocket. Then I headed out. The stairs didn't take too long to decline because we only lived on the second story so I was outside three minutes later. I would follow my mom's route to work and hopefully meet her walking back and give her a big hug. I was probably just worried, it was most likely nothing happened.

I kept walking, the route was so familiar to me that I didn't even have to pay attention to street signs. The streetlights and the passing cars provided me with all the light I needed and I kept walking at a brisk walk.

A gust of wind blew back my hair and I shuddered. It wasn't that cold for November but the gusts of wind made it feel colder. I walked silently for ten minutes, continuously ignoring passerbys and keeping on the route.









Leigh Babee
Community Member
Leigh Babee
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