Alien.
1237 Words
AURORA’S POV.
Her dark, hollow eyes pierced into my soul as she drifted closer, her mist-shrouded figure gliding without a sound. The air turned icy. My breath hitched as her pale fingers reached out—
“Rory, wake up! The alarm has been going off since six, and it's already six-thirty. Aren’t you going to school today?”
Who the hell was she?
Why wouldn’t she stop appearing? Her empty eyes bore into mine, her whispers a raspy echo in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing her away, but she only came closer.
“Stay away from me, don’t touch me,” I whimpered, my voice trembling.
“Rory!”
The world around me shook. Someone was grabbing me—was it her? Or was I dreaming?
“Rory!” The shaking intensified, and suddenly, I was falling—plunging into a vast, dark abyss. The air whooshed past me, damp and cold, swallowing my screams.
No. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to—
***
I jolted awake with a scream. My hands trembled, my lips quivered, my heart slammed against my ribs.
My frantic gaze darted around the room. Then I saw it—my name framed on the wall across from me. I was home. I was safe.
“Aurora?” My mother’s voice cut through the haze. She sat beside me on the bed, her warm hands wrapped around mine, worry creasing her features.
“Rory, are you okay?”
“I... I'm fine, Mom.” I struggled to steady my breath.
Her frown deepened. “You don’t look fine. I was calling you, but you kept tossing and mumbling in your sleep. Was it a nightmare?”
“No,” I lied, running a hand through my hair to steady myself.
“Rory…” She didn’t believe me, I could tell.
“I'm fine, Mom,” I snapped, frustration bubbling to the surface. I was still angry at her. At Dad. I never asked to be here, I was lied to. I hated it here.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she said nothing.
I glanced at the clock. My eyes widened.
Crap. Not again.
I flung the duvet aside and bolted to the bathroom, the cold tile biting against my feet. By the time I emerged, dressed and ready, my mother had gone downstairs.
The aroma of breakfast filled the air. As I entered the dining room, she turned with a soft smile. “Rory, I made your favorite.”
“Really?” My voice was flat with sarcasm.
Her smile faltered as she stepped closer, reaching out, but I moved away.
“Why are you being like this, Aurora?”
“I'm not,” I muttered, grabbing my food flask and stuffing my breakfast inside.
She sighed, handing me a few dollar bills before pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. The school bus honked outside. Without another word, I rushed to the door.
“Goodbye, T,” she called after me, but I barely heard her as I stepped into the crisp morning air.
The bus ride was loud. Too loud. Laughter, chatter, the occasional burst of obnoxious singing. I sank into the back seat, plugged in my earbuds, and let Justin Bieber’s voice drown them out.
By the time we arrived at Sparkling High School, the usual morning routine unfolded.
I loved prep. It was quiet and peaceful. A rare escape.
The janitors had already tidied the classroom. I slipped into my usual seat in the front row and opened my book.
“Boom!”
I flinched so hard my book nearly flew out of my hands.
Angela’s laughter rang in my ears as she grinned down at me. “Did I scare you?”
I shot her a glare. “No, you scared Abraham Lincoln.”
She gasped dramatically, flipping through my history book. “Seriously, Aurora? You take prep way too seriously. Did you even notice how empty the class is?”
I glanced around. “So? It’s always like this during prep. Why would today be different?”
Angela rolled her eyes. “You’re in your final year of high school. You should be having fun before college, not—” she gestured at my book, “—burying yourself in history.”
“If by fun you mean partying, drinking, and making bad decisions, then no, thanks.”
“Alien,” she muttered under her breath.
I frowned. “What?”
She smirked. “That’s your nickname, apparently. Weird that you didn’t know.”
I stared at her. “Who calls me that?”
But she was already walking away. “See you at the assembly!”
I sighed, rubbing my temple. Could this day get any worse?
***
At lunch, the cafeteria buzzed with chatter and laughter. I grabbed my tray—steaming spaghetti bolognese and chicken—and found an empty table. Just as I was about to take a bite, I heard hushed whispers from behind me.
I turned slightly. A group of girls sat at the next table, their eyes flicking toward me before darting away.
I knew they were talking about me.
I forced myself to ignore them and picked up my fork—
“May I sit with you?”
The voice sent a shiver down my spine. It always did.
I looked up. Cassandra. There was something weird and chilly about her that made my heart beat in a wrong dead way.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I mumbled.
She sat down across from me, silent. Staring.
I shifted uncomfortably. “So…”
She leaned forward, her voice a whisper. “She needs your help, Akira.”
My stomach dropped.
I froze. My heart pounded.
No one called me that. No one except my grandmother.
I swallowed. “How do you know that name?”
Cassandra didn’t blink. “She needs your help. Please.”
A cold sweat broke across my skin.
“Who are you?” My voice came out sharper than I intended.
The cafeteria fell silent. Heads turned. Whispers rose.
Heat crept up my neck. Embarrassed, I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the cafeteria, leaving Cassandra behind.
The rest of the school day passed in a blur. By the time I got home, the house was empty, as always.
A note was pinned to the fridge.
Rory, I won’t be home for a week. We have a work assignment. There’s food in the freezer. Take care.
I crumpled the paper. Not surprised.
After changing into comfortable clothes, I sat down to finish my homework. But the moment my pen hit the paper—
The hairs on my arms stood on end.
A presence.
Someone was here. Watching.
I turned sharply. Nothing.
Shaking my head, I tried to refocus. But then—
“She needs your help, Akira.”
I dropped my pen. My breath caught.
I wasn’t imagining it.
“Let me assist you to help her, Akira.”
My chair scraped against the floor as I stood abruptly, heart hammering.
“Who are you?” I demanded, searching the room.
Silence.
Then—”Let me guide you to help her, Akira.”
That was it. I wasn’t staying here another second.
I grabbed my jacket and bolted out of the house, running straight to the beach.
To the only place that ever made sense.
- Writer
