Forgotten

20

We've been on the road for days. We have only stopped once for Adrian to rest. He is being really stubborn about not letting anyone else drive. It has gotten on Cara's nerves worse than mine. I have been worried about Paige. I don't even know if she is alive. I have to stay calm for Charity, she doesn't need to be more scared than she already is.

I haven't seen any signs of human life in hours. There is a small trace of what was once a dirt road, but over time plants have started to grow over it. I don't know where we are going, but I know it won't help me save my sister. It's probably another one of those 'safe' neighborhoods. I am getting more angry by the minute.

"Amanda, can you tell me a bedtime story?" Charity asks, interrupting my thoughts. "Yeah," I sigh. "Once there was a princess named Cherry. Her best friend Paisley was kidnapped by the bad guys. Cherry teamed up with her pet unicorn to save her." Charity falls asleep. "Great story," Cara laughs. "She's like six years old, I don't think she cares about how good the story is, as long as there is a princess and a unicorn." I say. "Well, I think you are the next Shakespeare," she says sarcastically.

I don't remember falling asleep. I do remember the dreams. The horrified look in her eyes as she slips through my fingers. The images of her dead body. The memories of her as a baby. I don't want to fail her, but my worst fear is that I already have. Going on another joyride to a dangerous safe neighborhood won't help her. I should be with her. No, she should be safe.

Why did the aliens have to come and mess everything up? Don't they have a planet of their own? If not, then why take control like this? Why don't they just kill us already? Why go through all this extra trouble, when they could just kill us all at once? Not that I have a death wish, I just don't understand the logic. Then it hits me. Maybe they don't want to kill everyone. Maybe they just need one person.

Me.

It would explain why they took Paige, to lure me into a trap. But why me? I am extremely normal. There are, or were, neighborhoods full of people that remember their old lives. What makes me different?

I don't know for sure that is what they want, but I think it's a pretty good theory. Better than none at least.