Sorcha The Alien Book One

Chapter Two

My alarm clock calls me from the deepest slumber. I roll upon my back and stare at the ceiling. The incessant buzz makes my skull vibrate. I reach for its back and pull the cable from it, the display fades and the noise quiets. Outside is dark, yet it's morning: time for school.

I roll off my bed on wobbly legs and cross my room in two strides to my en-suite. Above my sink there's a large circular mirror and staring back at me is a girl with half her face bruised shades of purple and blue. I won't dress in my uniform; school is not happening today, not looking like this. Leggings slip over my legs like a second skin, and I throw on a loose-fitting T-shirt.

Posters of space line my bedroom walls and I stare at an image from the Hubble space telescope. Last night feels like a dream, I touch my face. Ow! Something happened. My eyes rest on a framed print of the Earthrise and my hand clutches the door handle. I take a deep breath before stepping out of my room.

Jen glares at me as I walk to the open plan kitchen. "No, no ..." Her hand hits her forehead. "Why aren't you ready for school?" She smooths down her shirt, crisp and white, ready to hit her office job extra early.

I point to my face and grab the supermarket brand cereal from the cupboard. Apparently, you can't taste the difference, except, I can.

"It's just a bruise, l'll give you a make-over. Get some make up on you, do your hair nice ..." She tries an encouraging smile. "Anyone you want to impress?"

I sit at the table and stare into my bowl, I watch as the milk turns my breakfast into mush. "Why would I want to impress someone by wearing make up?" I know why, because our society favours looks over so much. Over too much.

"It's Friday, how about you go to school ... and tonight we'll have a girl's night in, I'll get pizza and ice cream, we can watch a film ... your choice." She leans forward with a desperate smile.

My foot taps against the floor as I eat. "I'm not going to school. You know they'll ask questions, and I'm a bad liar."

"Okay." She groans. "You have the flu—" her chair pushes from the table and she deposits her empty plate into the sink "—again. You can't leave the house ... promise me, you'll stay in?"

I nod. "Sure ... Hey—" I rub the back of my neck "—thanks." Guilt pulses through me as my aunt smiles widely.

"I tell you what," she says excitedly as she walks to the door and slips on a black coat with a fluffy hood, "I'll get pizza and ice cream anyway. Let's stay up late watching movies and talking?"

"Err, okay." I smile weakly.

I spend the morning on the internet, reading about space, conspiracy theories and alien sightings. But there's nothing that describes the alien I saw last night. Cocooned within my swivel chair I sway from side to side. Did I just fall last night and knock myself unconscious? Was all this some grief induced dream? I do watch a lot of sci-fi.

Guilt pushes me from my dead-end research, and I wash the pots and tidy around the flat. I empty the tumble-dryer of sweet-smelling clothes, sort them and place them on Jen's queen-sized bed. A vase of flowers delivers a fresh smell into the room, I inhale deeply; a hint of spring in the midst of winter.

On a bedside table there's a picture of my mum and my aunt, together, smiling. It's a new addition to the room, I'm certain. My mum had dark brown hair like me and olive skin that tans easy, like mine. I look like her in this picture. It's funny, I never considered that my aunt might be grieving too, that maybe she misses her big sister. All I saw was my own pain.

The afternoon passes as I lie on the sofa with my red headphones on. The same song loops over and over, a reassuring drone in my ears. The crunching guitars create a soundscape that I can organise my thoughts to, and I think of aliens and space.