So this has absolutely nothing to do with the prompt, even though I requested one. I've been busy with this. It's for my creative writing class. Sorry for grammar and spelling errors, it's late and I want to go to bed. No time to proof read.
Eli, Trish, and their band were getting ready in the makeup room of the Collin Schrock Memorial High School. They had been allowed to play at the winter dance. Eli was ecstatic, but super nervous. This was the most people that they had ever played in front of. He was pacing back and forth, and the rest of the band were getting in the “zone.”
“Ah, let's do this!” said Eric, the bassist.
“Chill man,” said Connor, as he tossed his drum stick in the air.
Eli sat down on the bench, and started to hum. Eric heard the familiar tune of Infamous by Wakefield.
“We suck, yeah we're never gonna make it.” Eric sang.
“We're to dumb to be rich and famous!” They all finished together, smiling at each other.
“We got this guys,” said Trish, “Besides, with a face like mine they have to love us.”
The dance had been going on for about half an hour, and they only got about twenty minutes of stage time tonight. Not much, but they could cut one of their songs and make it almost perfectly.
“You guys remember when we met,” Eli asked, “When Trish spilled her milk on me?”
“That wasn't my fault!” Trish said, her face turning slightly red.
“Eric, it looked like she did it on purpose right?” Eli said.
“Oh yeah, that was so on purpose.”
“Which is why I'm surprised she didn't do it to me.” Connor said.
“Oh, and whys that?” Trish asked him.
“Well, I'm way better looking than he is!”
The door opened and poked their head it.
“You guys go on in fifteen minutes!” She shouted over the heavy bass of the song playing in gym. Trish looked at Eric bitting her lip.
“Trish, you're bitting your lip again.”
“No I'm not, shut up!” She said.
Eli grabbed a guitar, since they had four there, and started strumming a C chord. Eric and Connor started having a drum stick fight, laughing like kids in a toy store. Everyone was peaceful. Almost everyone.
“How are you guys not freaking out right now!” Trish shrieked. Her hands were clenched at her sides, and her nails were biting into the skin on her hands.
“Hey, chill out Trish,” Eli said putting down his chosen guitar, “Everything is alright.”
“Yeah, why don't you sit down?” Connor said.
“That's sounds like a good idea,” Eli said, “Eric, go get her a water.”
“Y-yeah.” Eric said. He stuttered when he was uncomfortable like this.
“I just don't get it!” Trish said. She ran her hands threw her hair. “You guys all seem so calm, so not scared.”
“We are all nervous too Trish, you know that,” Eli said as Eric returned, “Here have some water.”
“I'm- I'm okay.” Trish said.
The door opened again, “Five minutes!” said the same girl as last time. Eli grabbed a guitar, and Connor gathered his drum sticks.
“Here we go guys.” Eli said, holding open the door.
They filed out and took their positions behind the curtain, and started getting their instruments plugged in. The lady that had been calling them out walked onto the stage.
“Alright, remember these are high schoolers okay? Keep it appropriate, and no funny business!” She said very sternly, “Also, we'd like to welcome you to the Collin Schrock Memorial High School winter dance. Have fun!”
The curtains drew back, and spotlight clicked on, their intense heat focused on Eli, standing at the front. About four hundred high schoolers all turned their heads and look.
“Hey everyone,” Eli started, “I'm Eli, and these guys are my band mates. And we're here to play you guys some music, so here goes!”
As he finished Trish stared playing her guitar, and the drums came in shortly after. Eli drew in his breath, but just as he was going to start singing, the windows exploded and blue light filled the room. The music stopped, and people were screaming. There was a strange buzz in the air, and Eli started to feel like gravity was changing. He was being pulled towards the window, and he couldn't fight it. His body lifted off the ground, and he flew above the crowd. Some stared in awe, and some scrambled for cover. Eli was at the window and he tried to hold on, but he hit his head and passed out.
“No!” Trish screamed, and it was the last thing he heard.
Eli woke up slowly. It felt like a normal Sunday. With his eyes still closed, he tried to throw off his blanket, but he found that he couldn't move his arms. His eyes shot open, and his head immediately started pounding. It was the worst headache he'd ever had. He shut his eyes, and the pain went away almost completely.
He heard some clicks, and beeps that sounded like a computer of some sort. Someone was shuffling back and forth over there.
“H-Hello?” Eli croaked, his throat was dry like a desert.
The shuffling stopped, and it sounded like whatever it was sniffed a few times. It started taking slow deliberate steps towards him.
“Who's there?” Eli said, “Answer me!”
The creature made some unknown gurgle sound, and Eli felt a strange electrical pulse going from his toes up to his head. Soon this pulse had his unconscious again.
Eli woke again, still unable to open his eyes, but he wasn't strapped down any more. He moved off the bed, and felt his way along the wall until he reached the door. There was no knob as far as he could tell, but there was a sliding window in the middle. Try as he might, Eli couldn't open the window. He crawled back towards the bed, feeling along the way for anything in there. There was nothing in the room but him and the soft cushion that formed a bed.
“Human,” a voice came through a PA system. The voice was obviously artificial, “We mean you no harm. You will be returned to your home planet when we have gathered all the required data.”
“Who are you?” Eli cried.
“We are the Bufsa, from the planet Owia.”
“The what? You mean you're aliens?”
“If that is how you wish to view us.”
“I- I want to go home!” Eli said.
“We are not done with our tests and data collection.”
“Am I going to die?”
“No. As I said, you will not be harmed. We wish peace with your people.” The artificial voice was cold. “Sleep now. We will show you the truth.”
The pulse started again, and Eli tried to fight it. He tried to retain consciousness, but try as he might, sleep he did. This time he was dreaming though. Or they were projecting an image into his subconscious mind. In his dream, he was walking along the streets of home. The same route he had taken back to his apartment from the park. Only this time, he felt different. It was like he had been shown such knowledge. He saw the same homeless mother with her son, and knew that the ten dollars he gave them wouldn't help. They'd have been better off just killing them. So that's what he did. He simply raised his hand and willed the life out of them. The boys empty, dead eyes locked with his as the beaten up guitar crashed to the ground and shattered.
“No!” Eli screamed as he woke. “No, no, never. I'd never do that.”
“But, you could if you allowed us to give you the power.”
Eli slammed his fist against the wall. “No! How could anyone want that?” The picture of the boys eyes filled his mind. “You're a monster!”
“A monster? But we simply unlocked your innermost mind.” The voice came through, cold and hard. “It seems to us that you are the monster.”
Eli couldn't believe it. How could he have thought anything like that? Just as he went to speak again, a siren started going off. He could feel the vibrations through the wall.
“What's going on?” He shouted, but there was no reply. Eli sat on the floor and hugged his knees.
“Hey, you look new here.” Came a voice through the speaker. It was a girl.
“H- Hello?”
“Hi! I'm here to help you. Give me a minute.”
“What?” Eli responded. Static came back over the speaker, and he gave up hope.
Just when he sat on the bed, the door slid open, and smoke wafted in. The sirens moans were hurting his head by now.
“Hello?” He shouted.
“Well howdy,” said a rough looking man as he walked in. He was wearing a cowboy hat, and some type of combat armor. In his hands he had what look to Eli like a gun. “We're here to get you out of here.”
“Wh- Who are you?” Eli asked.
“We're Gold squad. Prisoner retrieval.” Chimed in the girl that he heard over the PA, as she walked in.
“I'm Numps,” said the cowboy ranger thing, “But you can call me Sarg.”
“Sarg?” Eli said, “and you are?”
“I'm Rose, and don't listen to him. We call him Papa Bear,” She said grinning, “Nobody has called his Sarg for a long time.”
“Oh, okay.”
“That's not important right now boyo, what's important is that we get you out of here.”
“Great!” Eli said.
“Alrighty then, let's get the hell out of here.”
And with that, Sarg Papa Bear walked out into the smoke, dropping his cigar and primming his gun.
Author
Topic: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___ (Read 314328 times)