The Event

1.

            After nine months of the looming ships, we really started to forget about their presence.

It became normal for the sun to be eclipsed by the monstrous things at certain times a day, and we all adjusted accordingly. School and work became mandatory again. Wasn't like we could put our lives on hold because of these intruders anymore. We had to live. The preppers came out of their holes and moved back to their houses, the president came out of his bunker, the world continued to spin.

All of earth's great minds were nowhere closer to finding a way to rid our planet of our visitors, or to communicate with them. I'm pretty sure they were just sitting in their special labs goofing off after nine months. Nine months is a long time to be in a state of urgency. Sooner or later, your body and your mind are bound to come out of that danger zone and revert back to normal.

That was the plan all along.

False security.

The amount of time that they hovered over us silently, watching and waiting, caused everyone to go back to normal. No one was hiding, no one was expecting them to do anything anymore. They were just a part of the backdrop to our lives now. When the news came on, there was hardly ever any mention of our intergalactic space pals.

Normalcy. We went back to normalcy with aliens floating over our heads.

I guess I can't say that everyone went back to normal. That is not entirely correct seeing as how most people were at home or work or school, while I was on the top of a freaking mountain. That was definitely not normal.

My brother, Jeremy, has always been adventurous. Me, not so much. I'd rather go skateboarding than hiking. When Jeremy decided that he was going to climb Mt. Denali in Alaska, I and everyone else called him crazy. Who in their right minds decides to do something so crazy on the brink of an alien invasion? But when he asked if I wanted to come too, of course my answer was yes.

We lived in rural South Dakota, almost the exact center of North America, also the position of one of the alien ships. When Jeremy had the idea to go all the way to Alaska, even if it was just so he could climb a stupid mountain and check that off of his bucket list, I jumped at the opportunity to get out from beneath the thing. Places on the far edges of continents could hardly even see the ships. Our home town was practically engulfed by it.

My brother's best friend Carlos, and his little brother, and also my best friend, Thomas, decided to take the journey with us.

It took us one week to drive to Denali National Park in Alaska, two more weeks of training and gathering our supplies, and then three more days to get our nerve up to actually sign up for an expedition. Apparently it actually wasn't all that strange to be looking to climb a freaking mountain at the end of the world. Two other groups, one of three, and the other of five, total novices had also signed up.

Our groups were going to be led by four guides, who were pretty much experts in all things snowy, mountainous, or climbing. Which was good, because even after all the training, I still wasn't sure about our odds of actually making it to the top. Usually so many guides aren't available, but these guys were the climbing obsessed. There still weren't too many people looking for guides anymore, because, you know...aliens. So the guides were pretty pumped to actually have thirteen of us doofuses willing to do this idiotic thing.

Usually people bring with them enough supplies to last them three weeks, but since we had extra extenuating factors to calculate in, we packed enough for six weeks, which was good since we ran into some pretty nasty weather on the second week and were pretty much at a stand/sit and cuddle into a ball still for five days. "Come on, Rowan." Tommy had teased me as I huddled up beside him with my four layers of clothing and chattering teeth. "I know you're actually in love with me and all, but you could at least try to hide it a little." He'd joked. "I mean, honestly, your brother is here. Don't embarrass yourself."

To which of course my response had been punching him as hard as I could in the arm, even though I knew that he would feel nothing through his thick as hell black marshmallow jackets and my hot pink gloves.

Some days were worse than others. The hike managed to make you feel a mix of the coldest cold you've ever felt in your entire life, while you're also sweating and panting from the weight of your clothes and the exhaustion of your body. More than once as we were dragging our sleds behind us, the sun glinting down and blinding me in the reflection of the thick white snow, I regretted coming on this little excursion. But as we got further and further up, the more accomplished I was beginning to feel, and the less I thought about the invaders. They had stolen so much from us already, and they hadn't even fully invaded yet. They had already taken away our security, but when we were one day away from reaching the summit, and I looked up into the limitless night sky and saw the spectacular wonder that is the aurora borealis, I knew that no aliens could take away our hope.

Remember what I mentioned about those painfully optimistic humans?

Yeah, well, I guess you could include me in that too.

I thought as I stood there that the lights in the sky were the most beautiful and moving thing I had ever seen or would ever see in my whole life, but two days later I found out that lights in the sky are not something to be marveled at, but instead, feared. When we reached the summit of Mount Denali, we had embraced one another and laughed and pointed our middle fingers in the direction of the alien ship, yelling at it about how it couldn't stop us from living life, and when you're on the top of a mountain, at the highest point in North American, it actually feels true.

The next day, there was no cheering from our camp.

The next day, the event stole all hope we had left.