I Wished a Wish Upon a Star

Shooting Stars and Men From Mars

I watched the beam of light fall through the sky as graceful and as silent as falling snow. I loved the countryside: you could be alone with your thoughts, happy and content. The soft hoot of owls and the sips of my cocoa were the only sounds to be heard. That was the way it should be.

I watched the star dip behind the horizon, off on its endless journey through the rest of space, and sighed. I knew nothing was going to change, wishing on stars was a waste of time. Dreams only came true in fairytales. Thinking wistfully of Snow White, I headed back inside. I had a news story to write by the morning and had yet to start. I couldn't afford another late report, my boss was very uptight about time management, and he had warned me that it was my last chance to hand one in on time before I lost my job.

I gulped down my hot cocoa, wincing a little as it burnt my throat, and settled at my desk for an all-nighter. I opened my laptop, rubbed my eyes and reached into the cabinet to my left and pulled out a red bull from the multipack I had hidden away. I looked at it guiltily, knowing it was the first of many. I wondered if it would kill me to drink the whole 12 pack. I placed it on the coaster next to my laptop and began writing.

I had barely written a sentence before I was rudely interupted by a harsh knock on the door. I looked at the corner of my screen, the clock told me it was nearly 11. It was very late for any of my neighbors to be knocking, they were all in their mid to late 80s and went to bed before the sun went down, so who could it be? I decided that I needed to complete my report and that whoever it was, if it was something important, would come back in the morning.

I started writing again, satisfied with my resolution.

But all too soon, there was another knock at the  door, and this time it carried on knocking. I tried to ignore it, hoping it would leave, but it carried on relentlessly.

"Fine, Ok, I'm coming!" I yelled, irritated. I ran down the hallway from my study to the front door. I fumbled through the pockets in my rain jacket which was hanging on the furthest peg from the door. "Just a minute." I called, seizing the door keys from the front pocket.

I unlocked the door and heaved it open, vowing to replace it as it dragged on the carpet. Panting a little with the strain of hauling the door open, I looked out. Standing in front of me was a tall old man, not as old as those who live in the houses around me, but certainly mature in years. His skin was wrinkled, but his eyes were still full of life and he was light on his feet. His hair was as spritely as he was: soft grey curls bounced on the top of his head. He wore a long black jacket which reached just above his knees. He had his hands in his trouser pockets showing off the rich red of the inside of the jacket. His black waistcoat and trousers were neatly pressed and his shoes were polished.

"John Smith." He was Scottish. He smiled, pulling out what seemed to be a wallet with a blank sheet of paper inside it and pointing at it.  "I'm from the meteorological department at East Midlands Today, this area needs to be evacuated, a big storm's due any day. Come with me please."

"Why are you showing me a blank piece of paper?" I asked, not quite sure he was telling the truth.

"What do you mean it's blank?" He seemed genuinely confused. "It's never been blank before for anyone like you."

What did 'anyone like me' mean? He had only met me a few minutes ago, he was a weatherman, how could he already know what I was like? Surely he would know if there was a blank sheet of paper where his I.D. should be?

I was about to give him a piece of my mind, but he closed my mouth before it opened by shoving his face into mine.

"You seem like a normal human." He pulled a strange blue stick out of his jacket pocket. He poked it in my face and it flashed blue and gave out a loud high-pitched buzzing. He ran it up and down my body. He then inspected it, like it was giving him stats. "Yes, human, female,23, a little above average intelligence, but nothing special. Yet my psychic paper doesn't work for you. Interesting. Why are you special?" He pressed his face back into mine until I could feel his breath on my skin.

I pushed his face out of mine and turned to go inside, disgusted. "I'm not special."

He grabbed my wrist.

"Get off me, you creep!" I wriggled my arm away and raced inside, slamming the door shut behind me. I lent my back against the door, breathing deeply.

"I know you saw it." came a muffled, yet ominous voice through the door.

"What did I see?" I shouted back.

"That shooting star you wished on? Sorry to burst your supersticious bubble but that wasn't a star, or a meteor if you want to be scientifically accurate. That was a spaceship carrying one of the deadliest races in the universe, and it crash landed somewhere not too far from here, so please, if you will, come with me."

"You're crazy! I'll call the police!" I ran upstairs to get my phone and quickly dialled 999. Before anyone picked up, I heard a faint high-pitched buzzing and my phone emitted sparks and flew out of my hand. "What the-" I whispered. I looked up. He was standing at the bottom of the staircase. "How did you get in?" I backed away, it felt like a horror story I couldn't escape.

He bounded up the stairs, grinning, "I invented a wood setting."

I continued moving backwards until I felt myself against the wall. There was no where left to go.

"I really must insist you come with me. I've already taken the others in the surrounding area to safety, please, I'm only trying to help." His soft accent made him seem genuine. I could almost believe he was telling the truth. I remembered the 'Stranger Danger' warnings that had been drilled into me since birth. I snapped out of it. I darted around him and dashed back downstairs and out into the street, my news story completely forgotten.

From the end of the street to my left, I could hear footsteps. Marching footsteps. Many marching footsteps. I looked round to see lines and lines of what seemed to be metal people marching up the road towards me. They were tall, taller even than the man inside my house. I was petrified, had the man, John, whatever his name was, been right? Aliens didn't exist did they?

I felt two large hands place themselves firmly on my shoulders, "Do you believe me now?"

I nodded slowly.

"Then run." He grabbed my hand and dragged me in the opposite direction of the metal men. "In here," He pointed to a large blue police box. Paint was pealing and it looked like it hadn't been washed in a while. A sign said 'Pull to Open' on one of the doors, but he pushed.

I hesitated, it seemed like a very small box that would do nothing against whatever those things were.

"Come in," He said calmly, "It's nice and roomy in here."

"And my name's Mickey Mouse." I always seemed to get sarcastic when I was scared. Even so, my fear for those creatures and my intrigue won over my fear for this man. I ignored the warning lights flashing in my brain. I stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind me.

I may have just seen metal men from outer space, but I was certainly not prepared for what I found when I stepped inside that box...