Unforeseen

Chapter 8

I do not own Transformers, only my OC's

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Chapter 8

Nights had become more entertaining than usual lately. And as I snuck out at midnight I was reminded why.

Ron was sitting upon the truck's roof, legs and arms crossed. His gaze turned my way as I stepped out. It was the middle of October and the air was beginning to cool. Soon a coat would be required.

"Evening," it was his typical greeting. But tonight he also held a hand out to me.

"I'm good on the ground thanks."

"It's wet." It had rained all day. The ground was over saturated and muddy.

"I'll fall on my fat butt if I try getting up there."

Ron snorted. "You have the scrawniest aft I've ever seen. Now get up here."

"Oh gee, thanks," I took my shoes and socks off. "Aft's are on planes and ships. You just called me fat."

He grumbled about something or another as I hoisted myself up on the bumper. My pajama pants were slick on the hood and I clocked myself nicely. Ron grabbed me when he could, keeping me from falling again.

"You alright?"

"Ya, I'll just be adding another bruise to the collection." I rubbed my knee. The sky was completely black, not a star could be seen. Even the full moon was completely blocked out. I shivered.

"Are you sure you shouldn't have coat?" Ron mistook me. It wasn't the cold that troubled me. It was the memories.

"I'm fine." No need to enlighten him.

Ron eyed me carefully. I tried to ignore him. Sometimes I felt he could see right through me. That he could hear my heart quicken ever so slightly when I thought about my past.

A hand came down on my head and ruffled my hair. It was his silent way of saying 'it'll be alright.'

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Walking to school the next morning was a bit laborious. I had only slept for about an hour and my bag was heavy with three thick textbooks. I shifted the straps on my shoulders. Maybe I should have gotten a ride from my uncle.

The faint whistling noise of a high powered engine floated to my ears. But only a few buses and cars were on the road, nothing that could have possible made a whistling noise.

Shrugging, I focused my attention back in front of me.

But the whistling was getting louder with each passing moment. It was obnoxious.

As it grew, I realized it wasn't the only noise to be heard. Whatever it was, it also sounded as if it were cutting through the air. A helicopter? No, it was not the sound of rotating blades.

The noise was nearly ear splitting now. Gritting my teeth I covered them. Wind whirled around me. Oh god, please no. Don't let this be a reenactment.

A military jet plane ripped through the air, barely a two hundred feet above the ground.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Good, it wasn't that. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest.

What was a military jet doing flying so low? I wasn't an expert, but weren't planes supposed to be several thousand feet in the air, especially over residential areas?