The Driveway

Emily would have never guessed that something as small as walking down the driveway would change her life. She had done the simple task so many times, get home from school, check the mail, go inside. She had done the same thing every day, she didn’t expect this time to be any different. Her mother wasn’t standing at the window waiting for Emily to come inside like normal, but she did that sometimes. Her mother refused to step foot outside of their house, not after Emily’s father disappeared. Her mother swore he was taken by “The Sky People”. The years have not been easy on her fading mind.

Mr. Lance was cutting grass in the neighboring yard, Emily smiled and waved at the old man as she stepped off the bus. She headed over to the brick mailbox and fetched out a magazine for her and a few pieces of mail for her mother. Nothing out of the ordinary. She was about halfway down her driveway when she got the feeling. You know how you just know when someone is watching you? It’s like a sixth sense, the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention, a lump in your throat forms, your stomach drops, time slows down. Someone was watching Emily. She stopped walking and turned her head in all directions. Mr. Lance wasn’t outside, his lawnmower was still running where he left off. All the squirrels and birds that were previously scurrying around were gone.

She ran. Her legs were moving in slow motion. The air that filled her lungs was slime, her face was slick with sweat. With every step she took, her house got further and further away. She felt her feet being lifted off the ground, she couldn’t run anymore. At some point she clinched her eyes shut, and now she couldn’t even open them if she wanted to, it was like they were glued shut. The clothes that once adorned her body were now gone, and the mail that was previously in her hand had been long forgotten. Wind was blowing past her floating body at excruciating speeds, she could feel it ramming against her, but she could not hear the wind that she knew was whistling past her ears.

Memories began to flash in her mind. Her first memory, her first day of school, she had cried the whole day, but when she finally got home, she ran off the bus into her parents’ arms. Her and her childhood best friend playing hide and seek, running up and down that driveway. Sitting in her father’s lap, him letting her hold the steering wheel and calling it driving. The first time she actually drove, her mother shaking like a leaf in the passenger’s’ seat. Her first date, her father had scared the shit out of the poor boy, and every boy after him as well. Her first kiss in her first boyfriends car. All of these memories took place in that driveway. Every memory she had flashed in her mind and disappeared, up until her getting off the bus just a little while ago. Then the rest of her memories. All disappearing as soon as they had been shown. Soon she couldn’t remember anything. Her name, her favorite food, her favorite color. Nothing. She knew nothing.

She was suddenly lying on a squishy thing. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt slimy. She attempted to open her eyes. She could hear beeping all around her. She tried again. She could feel something clamping her limbs down. She tried again. She couldn’t move any part of her body. She forced her eyelids open, blinking a few times to get accustomed to the bright, flashing lights. There were tanks filled with liquid all around her, some held people. Mr. Lance was in one.

Two small things appeared in her field of vision. Both had wrinkly green skin with heads far too big for their bodies. Their large black eyes seemed to be able to stare into her soul.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: