Star People

               A flash of light outside the window woke Scott from a dead sleep the way it had numerous times in the past few weeks.  It wasn’t lightning.  It wasn’t a storm.  They were back.  He could tell they had returned by the fearful shivers moving through his body.  He just knew they were there.  He could feel it.  And if he listened closely, he could hear the sound of the spaceship hovering just above his house.  The sound was a low rumble, much like the sound of the engine of an idling truck off in the distance.

               Since it was after midnight on a moonless night, it should have been coal black outside, but it wasn’t dark at all.  As he lay in bed, from the corner of his eye, Scott could see a very intense white light outside his bedroom window on the left side of the room.  A bright light, like a spotlight, was shining down from the skies above.    

               He wanted to turn onto his side and look towards the window to see what was there, but at the same time he was too frightened to move.  He was noticing an unusual sensation in his body.  He was feeling incredibly tired, but not the same kind of tiredness he felt when he had been running around all day.  It was as if he had been drugged and could barely keep his eyes open.  But Scott was determined to stay awake.  His intuition told him that something wasn’t right, and he needed to stay alert, aware and focused.

               Then a creepy feeling swept through his body.  It feels like someone is watching me, he thought.  Scott finally got up the nerve to turn over and face the windows to see what was happening outside.  When he rolled over, he saw several grey alien figures peering in from the outside. They had cold dark eyes and sad, expressionless faces.  It appeared that they were floating, ghost-like, hovering in the air. 

               It seemed like they didn’t have the dexterity to get the window to open, but that wasn’t stopping them from trying. Their fingers moved slowly like the tentacles of an octopus, but with a single claw at the end of each digit.  There was a scratching sound, coming from the outside, like fingernails scraping against the glass, as they were trying to pry open the bedroom window with those long, skinny fingers. 

               As he witnessed this, Scott felt trapped, paralyzed, and frozen.  It was like one of those dreams where he was too scared to move.  Thoughts started to run through his head.  Should I call the police?  Should I wake someone up and tell them? But who would believe him?  No one ever believed his stories.  He had tried to tell people in the past about the strange things that had occurred.  They just made fun of him. 

               This was the most frightening moment he’d ever experienced.  Here he was, being pursued by someone or something that could end his life, but no one ever seemed to care, or take him seriously.  He never felt more alone. 

At that moment, Scott just wanted to be a normal 15-year-old.  He didn’t want to worry about aliens that, for some reason, were interested in him. But they wouldn’t go away.  In fact, things seemed to be getting worse. 

               Slowly, the latch to the window started to turn, but he couldn’t see a hand turning it.  How are they doing that?  Are those grey creatures able to open the window latch with their minds?  He knew he had to do something.  He jumped out of bed and quickly opened the center drawer of his desk.  Buried under a stack of papers was his Swiss Army knife.  He frantically pulled open the longest blade, and then rushed into the closet to get his baseball bat, closing the door behind him.  If they’re going to get me, I’m not going down without a fight.

               Scott tried to think of an escape plan while, at the same time, keenly listening to what was going on in his bedroom.  For a moment he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror mounted on the inside of the closet door.  His short brown hair was disheveled, but his intense green eyes lit up as he prepared to strike.  Being almost six feet tall and fairly strong might help, he thought.  The grey beings looked to be short in stature and had slender bodies, but still, there was no way of knowing how they might fight or come after him.  Maybe I can make a run for it before they break into the house.  Wait, are those footsteps in my room? 

               Suddenly the doorknob of the closet door started to turn.  The hair stood up on his arms as a prickly heat swept through his body.  There was a strange buzzing sound coming from the other side of the door.  He grabbed the doorknob to keep it from opening, his hands were sweating.  Suddenly, the closet light flickered, popped loudly, and went dark.