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The Extra Terrestrial

It is a gloomy, September morning in a poor neighborhood on Wall Street, 1093 A.D. I’m Fern, a 12-year-old girl, with an amazing story to tell.

One morning, I went on my usual walk in the park. There was a crisp autumn breeze that morning. Mr. Steve, my neighbor, was in the park, feeding the pigeons, as usual. Today, he was very cautious about the people around him, like a hawk, stalking its prey. There has been a lot of murders in my neighborhood. What’s especially weird about it, it’s only black people.

Mr. Steve doesn't say a word about it after each death.

My little sister, Janet, doesn't know about it yet since my Momma thinks she’s too young to know. Many people are getting suspicious about it as well. Momma doesn't let me and Janet out as much as before. Life isn't fun anymore, nowadays. “Life isn’t all as fun as expected”, my Momma tells me. The next day, another person. Dead. And Mr. Steve has nothing to say. One after another. Dead. In their homes. Their families, balling. Day after day, after day. Non-stop. Worrying kids, parents, and relatives, for miles. The population rate, low. People quivering in fear, hiding, in the shadows. And our town, nicknamed, the town of shadows. Weather, gloomy 100% of the time, nothing new. Nothing to do. Everyone, depressed, cowering in the shadows, like leeches, running from a bright light.

The next morning, another murder, more weeping and not a single word from Mr. Steve. When I went to the park, Mr. Steve’s shirt had a blood stain on it. He has to be the cause of all of this sorrow and deaths.

So I go up and ask, “Why do you have that stain on your shirt?” He gives me a stern look, then snaps, “I don't have time for your silly questions!” I walked away, knowing that Mr. Steve knew something I didn't, that I should.

Later that day, I searched up the president’s email address, then emailed him, telling him how dangerous this town is.

A few days later, I get a response saying, “That is nothing of your concern. You shouldn’t be worrying about these things! Go out and enjoy the sun. Signed, President Hixen.” I reply, ”What do you mean it’s not my concern! My youngest sister died because of this nonsense!” As I sit on my bed, waiting for a response, I think of Joetta. She was only so small.

5 hours later I get a response saying, “I am so sorry for your loss, but I have more important things to worry about. Signed, President Hixen” I was so aggravated! This was probably his only problem! I reply, “What! You have more important things to think about?! This is probably your only problem!” After that, I get no response. This is why I never listen to freaks like him! There so irresponsible!

My family is still shaken up by the situation. I do not know how we are going to heal without our little angel.

 

My friend, Kimberly, is helping me with the situation. My Momma and Papa had gotten over it, but somehow, I can't. Every night, Momma comes to my room, trying to comfort me until I cry myself to sleep. The next day, I thought back to when I asked Mr. Steve a question and his reaction. Since he lives right across the street from me, every night about 2 hours before bed, I spy on him. He usually he goes to bed at 8:00 pm. All kids go to bed at 7:00 pm. This time he goes to bed at 7:00 pm, but instead of going to bed, he took off a mask, revealing a weird weird shaped head that I never saw before. As soon as I saw the sight, I thought of how to catch Mr. Steve. He couldn’t be human.

Later I heard a creak of the stairs, startling me awake. As the figure approached my room, I hid beneath my bed ready. Unfortunately, the figure knew where I was. It flashed an unbarring, blinding light, getting only a glimpse at the figure’s face.

 

His face was a deep forest green, his 3 eyes glaring at me. Bald, as a baby. Its skin was as slimy as a slug. And his hands were firmly holding a gun. My heart rushed. Remembering all of the people and moments of my life. BLAM! The gun went off, the bullet only hitting my arm. I heard heavy, running footsteps of Momma and Papa. Screaming, “FERN! FERN!” Then my boobytrap went off, hooking the alien's belt, and hanging him upside down. Momma hugged me so tight, I could hear my bones cracking, and I couldn’t breathe. Later I was rushed to the hospital, my arm was fractured. While the alien was taken away to a research center, before being launched back into outer space.

 

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Publication Date: 03-16-2018

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