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Prologue

October 2, 2011

Dear Diary,

Yesterday, at my brother's baseball game, I met a lady and her daughter, Riley. Now, Riley's mom and I were talking, and suddenly Mrs. Riley. (That's the name I gave her, since I don't know thier last name.) Hollered "Look up in the sky! What on or off earth is that thing?" and, sure enough, there was a dull, bronze-colored something floating no - gliding slowly in the sky. It couldn't be a bird, butterfly, flying squirrel, bat, or airplane because it never flapped its wings or let out a long stream of smoke. Oh! And one more reason! It was triangular. Was it an alien lander?

Hey! You know what?! I have horse-back riding lessons! Oh, oh, oh! I sure do hope I don't get Sundance! You know, there is one more reason why I want to ride Wilson. Do you know what that other reason is? Probably not, so, I will tell you. It's his saddle! It's old-fashioned and it makes me feel like a cowgirl!

Love,

Stella

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I slammed the old, overly-sequined cover of my old 3rd grade diary closed, and leaned back against my bed. It was 9:00 on a Saturday night in November, and I was getting ready to go to the local astronomy club with my dad. But first? A healthy dose of my normal senior nostalgia, which covered every time period of my life from "God I wish I was a baby again" to "man, I miss Junior year bio class". At the moment, I was making my way through my "life was good when I was in third grade", and that's when I had found the diary entry.

I remembered that day. I tried to keep it shoved in some part of my brain where I rarely looked, but I remembered it. And to be honest, it still impacted me to that day, in some way or another. In the weeks after the incident, I started bringing home astronomy books, determined to prove the existence of aliens in one way or another. Even though my "alien phase" had eventually faded away, I was still left with the love of stars, and a bunch of useless space facts that would never help me in any way whatsoever.

Such is the way the world goes.

As I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the book next to me, I heard my dad calling out from downstairs.

"STELLA!" he shouted, "I'M LEAVING!"

I rolled out of my bed, landing gracefully on the floor, and then dragged myself up. Hopefully I could nag him into stopping by one of those 24-hour Dunkin's on the way to the club, since my energy was fast leaving me, and I needed some hot cocoa.

"Hey Dad," I called out as I left my room and headed down the stairs, "Can we get Dunks? I'm tired but I don't want to miss the astronomy club."

My dad, who was standing near the door, looked back at me and replied,

"I need to get gas for my truck anyways, so sure."

I grinned, and, when my dad turned his back, did a little happy dance. Then, grabbing the lenses for my telescope, which was already in the truck, I ran out the door, and into the cold November air.

The car ride was, for the most part, quiet, except for the soft background noise of the classic rock radio station that my dad always had it tuned to. It was still quiet when we pulled into the empty gas station, and when I stepped out of the truck to take a look at the sky.

It was clear, and full of what felt like more stars than usual. Of course, the view of the stars from the gas station was always better than from my home, as the gas station was on an uninhabited strip of land, with no streetlights to light the road. I stared upwards as the lights from the station reflected on my breath, turning it into a soft, light cloud that also rose upwards, before dissipating somewhere around Orion's belt.