Not This Place

Chapter 1

    "Leah," the young brunette's mother called from the entrance of the small house. "I need you to do the dishes while I'm out, is that okay?"

    "Yeah!" The woman's daughter answered, running to the entrance to give her mother a goodbye hug. "Have fun!"

    She stood at the entrance, the door wide open, and waved as the silver Corolla sped off. Leah sighed and walked over to the kitchen sink, beginning her task.

    Three hours had passed since her mom left. All the bowls and plates were squeaky clean, the clutter in her room was placed in their rightful places, and one tired young girl was lying on her couch, bored out of her mind.

    "Hmm," the ninth grader thought to herself. "Maybe Netflix is working finally." She grabbed the remote from the coffee table and clicked on the red power button. After a few more buttons, Netflix was up and running. The CW network show, Supernatural was playing.

    It was by far Leah's favorite television show of all time. She watched it a total of 4 times so far. The fifth was about to begin at the very moment.

    Seven episodes were completed when the captivated viewer's empty stomach growled. "Food!" She cheered, rushing to the pantry.

    After a wolfing down a bowl of ramen, another episode was playing. Two more were completed before the clock struck midnight, and it was time for bed.

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    An alarm clock could've went off, a rooster could've sang it's morning song, the next door neighbor could've started an early band practice, but no. Leah  was awakened by a splash of water and found herself tied to an uncomfortable wooden chair in an abandoned factory.

    "W-What?" She croaked out, shaking the liquid out of her eyes. Two men stood in front of her, two very familiar men, with their arms crossed. One was holding an empty bucket and casually placed it on the ground.

    The man who rudely woke her stepped forward and crouched down so his face was only inches from hers. He was 26 and didn't have a friendly aura to him at the time. Light stubble brushed acrossed his chin, and his bright green eyes pierced through the dark building.

    "What are you?" The voice was emotionless and stern. It spoke again when there was no response. "I said, what are you?"

    The man shoved the frightened girl's shoulders against the worn down furniture. "Answer me," his tone was cruel, although quiet.

    Leah blinked. She didn't know what was going, she didn't know how to react, what to say, how to feel. The only thing she knew was silence. But silence wasn't going to get anyone anywhere.

    "What are you?" Her voice was more defiant than expected although the question was sincere.

    The interrogator stepped back as if shock took over. "No, no, I say that, not you. Answer me."

    Accepting defeat, the question was answered. "I'm a human," she said.

    "No, you're not," this time, the second member spoke. He was younger, 22 years old and had longer hair. "A human wouldn't randomly teleport onto your bed."

    "I don't know what you're talking about," Leah stated, her voice was no longer shaking and her breathing evened out. "I didn't teleport anywhere. I'm sure I would've remembered that."