Chapter 2

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"Okay, okay, hear me out," said Will. He sat on Rosemary's windowsill, watching his sister fumble around with her things. "What if we're not humans? What if we're the aliens?" 

Rosemary turned her head to stare at him. "Will, what the hell?" 

"I'm serious!" Will laughed, hopping down from the window. "We could make discovery! We could—" 

"Will," Rosemary giggled. "Be quiet." 

"Seriously, consider it," Will urged. "We're the aliens. Maybe there are other...beings out there that think we're aliens and they're the actual humans—oh my god, are you okay!?" 

Rosemary's head had dropped into her hands and she clutched at her hair, pain throbbing in her head. "I'm...I'm okay," she said, breathing through the pain. "They said it was normal. Can you..." 

But Will was already gone, going through her drawers to find ibuprofen. "Here," he said, dropping a pill into her hand. He handed her a half-full glass that stood on her nightstand. 

Once she swallowed down the pill, she smiled at her little brother. "Thank you," she said genuinely, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "It's weird how you just suddenly grew up two years in just a week for me." 

Will smiled cheekily. "What, you thought I'd be like Peter Pan? The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up?" 

"Maybe." She stood, shaking out the pins and needles in her legs that had fallen asleep. "I hate being so weak," she murmured. "I just want all these coma after-affects to just leave. I want to be normal again." 

She hadn't realized that tears had blurred her vision until Will pointed it out, gingerly reaching up to wipe it away. She smiled at him and he stared at her, brows furrowed.

"You know when you were in that coma, I was sitting by your bed, and a nurse saw me? You know what she told me?" 

Rosemary shook her head. 

"She told me, it's okay to cry." 

She only stared into her brother's sad eyes and then collapsed into his arms, her body shaking with sobs. 

---

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲,


𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤, 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐚.

𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝟕𝟑𝟎 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬.

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈?

𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧.

𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞; 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐚 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.

𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞.

𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲,

𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲


~Lyn 

Words: 533 

So, how is it so far, from the prologue to now? Please be honest; I'm so terrible at writing good beginnings, but hopefully my middle and end will be good! 






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