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And Matt, don’t get me started on Matthew Borell. What did he think he was going to accomplish by stalking me? I thought this kind of stuff only happened to super models. I wasn’t even the super model type! My short legs stopped right where they should and went no further. What was it that he saw in me that was so desirable?

I had always thought he was cute, gorgeous even, but, never understood the opposite attraction. He hadn’t always been like this, well not quite like this.

We used to have fun and he used to be somewhat nice. Although he was always possessive and demanding, I kind of liked that in the beginning, it was exciting. Then it got very old and even scary. I was too chicken to call the cops. He wouldn’t have really hurt me was what I thought.

The next time he showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, I would definitely call the cops though. Yeah.

He wasn’t particularly thrilled about the breakup nor the fact that I refused to sleep with him. It wasn’t love on either of our sides so I just couldn’t do it.

So, he hit me.

He actually swung his hand back like some movie gangster and slapped me across the face.

I hadn’t called the police that night either, which I regretted fiercely and I had to call in sick that next day. Thank goodness it was a Friday. I had the weekend for the bruises to dissipate and wouldn’t have to tell anyone what had happened.

I didn’t tell a soul, not even Danny.

I never spoke to Matt after that except to tell his answering machine to leave me alone, for good. We were together for all of five months, an eternity when I looked back.

He wasn’t Romeo, he was more like Heathcliff. I wasn’t Juliet either, which is why I thought I deserved such a man, because I couldn’t do any better. No one had ever told me I was pretty. Ever. So it must be true that I was a plain Jane with a plain life to boot.

As I pulled out of my hidden spot behind the shrubs and the city sign, I paused and ran my hands through my dark wavy curls in frustration, twirling the ends between my fingers. My nervous tick. Some people bit their nails, some paced, I twirled.

Why did life have to be so hard and so not what we planned? Why did my parents have to be so...strange. Why did my brother have to be so lazy? Why was my apartment crappy and why oh why was the ‘Travel Journal’ not interested in my pictures nor a column I could write if they so desired.

My boss at the paper, bless her, was evil incarnate. I expected her to tell me the pictures were horrible and boring, especially since she’d have to find a replacement for me if I got hired somewhere else but, she was always harsh so I thought I could handle it.

She told me her second grade son could do better and she questioned how she could have even hired me in the first place. ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ had nothing on this lady, this she-beast. She acted like she was on some runway when she entered the lobby to the office, scarf blowing behind her like she was posing with a fan at some swanky photo shoot.

I could think of a few things to do with that scarf around her neck. Tighten it being one of them.

My life at the Chicago Print wasn’t dazzling in any light. I was one of the photographers and followed the journalist around to snap whatever story they deemed worthy, fiction or non-fiction. I wondered how many stories one paper could do on the local politicians getting busted yet again with prostitutes.

Prostitutes! Something I never dreamed my camera lens would ever see.

Most of my personal pictures were of the city, the night life, the lakes, people. That was my interest. Real life not sleaze.

As for my personal life, my short ugly stint with Matt was over. That was the extent of my love life. Even though I had my small family, I felt completely alone. How could you be alone in a city of thousands? Ask me. It wasn’t as hard as it might sound.

I sometimes felt like I was being watched though, even as a little girl I felt it. Like there was someone out there waiting for me or watching over me, maybe just seeing how I would turn out.

Mom thought I meant I was waiting for a boy. Maybe I was. She said ‘the right boy will come along one day, when the stars align in your favor’.

She also told me that guardian spirits from mother nature watch us. They might even intervene if we needed badly enough. That was a nice idea. If that were true, my guardian was on an indefinite coffee break, apparently having more of a social life than me. Probably making eyes at someone else’s guardian at the water cooler, causing problems.

For some reason, pulling away from the ridge, the lights, the noise, felt wrong, like it could be the last time. I didn’t get into all that stuff like my mom. Fortune tellers and scientology and fate, so I didn’t really believe in premonitions or gut feelings.

Though my always being able to detect lies was pretty accurate and useful.

Pulling up to the highway I felt a chill and the hair on my neck and arms stood up, making me stop again. The stars were particularly bright that night as I laid my head back on the headrest to settle myself, for one final last moment of peace before heading back to my nonexistent life. Then I realized something was missing.

“Where is the moon?”

Make Yourself At Home One year later...

The news said they weren’t everywhere yet, mostly big cities, but logically wouldn’t that be so, considering large cities held more people. Ratio to ratio it was probably the same everywhere.

I wasn’t too keen on travel myself since all cell phone, national television and wireless broadcasting services had gone down a year ago. Land lines only and local television networks and radio stations were all that was left.

Those poor people didn’t know how to act without their precious technology and Danny was
still
sleeping on the couch. My couch.

These things, these dark beings had begun to arrive, per the so called sightings that no one could actually produce evidence for. A prank? Aliens? A cult? Gothic Angels? The questions were endless and the answers few. People disappeared, dying and then being seen again later. They looked human but, with black eyes and hair and acting strange, as the stories that poured in kept saying.

Wild and domestic dogs and animals were running off and killing themselves, running into traffic, jumping through electric fences and off cliffs and drowning in the rivers and pools. It was like they could sense something was wrong and couldn’t face it alive.

The moon hadn’t shone in a year and it apparently had something to do with
them
. It took a while to see the connection. No one realized that something was even happening until people started disappearing.

The weather was awfully strange too. Cold when it shouldn’t be, among other things, hale, freezing rain, snow in the summer. The government tried to assure us to continue to live our lives normally while they conjured up a response and course of action to the happenings.

No one knew or had said whether or not to fear the beings. No one wanted to be the one to have started a panic. There were mixed reactions as to what the beings might want since in a year, there had been no contact or message to indicate anything what they were doing here.

The paper I worked for was an alien gossip mill since then. The she-beast had me out photographing every fool in the street claiming to have seen one of the visitors or phantoms but, for the most part, people were living their lives...normally.

I glanced up into my bathroom mirror to see a pitiful sight really. The only feature I would’ve labeled as nice was my long brown curly hair but the rest of me left something to be desired. Boring brown eyes, five foot zero inches. Yeah, that’s right, I was a toddler. I was healthy and petite, curvy yet slim.

As I looked in the mirror at my naked, wet, pale bathed body through the steam from my shower I was somewhat overwhelmed. If I saw me on the street I would think ‘fragile’ or ‘too much coffee as a teen stunted her growth’. That was not really what I was going for. I was nineteen but to me I didn’t look a day over sixteen.

I dragged my clothes on, slicking on a smidge of makeup. I wasn’t sure what I’d classify my style as. I’m wasn’t really trendy, not preppy, not grunge. Cute I guess. That’s what you get for having to shop in the juniors department most of the time.

Most of my clothes were jeans or skirts with comfy plain v neck t-shirts and layered tanks. My staples were silver hoop earrings, the necklace I wore every single day and coral toe nail polish. Probably pretty boring to others but, to me it was my comfort zone.

I swept my curls into a loose and low hanging shoulder ponytail and mentally prepared myself for yet another day in the life of me.

“Got anything to eat, sis?” Danny was already in the kitchen behind me when he asked me, startling me with his ninja quietness.

“Yeah, lunchmeat and sandwich bread. That’s about it until I get back to the store.”

He had been staying with me since our parents went off the deep end.

A whole clan of individuals had begun a club of sorts where they got together every day to meet at the ridge with signs pointed to the sky that said ‘Welcome To Our Planet’ and ‘Make Yourself At Home’ or ‘Take Me With You’, convinced that the beings were aliens trying to make contact with us but were too scared of us beastly humans with our guns and Mohawks and pop stars and Republicans.

It was happening everywhere, every big city in the world had stories of invaders pouring out daily and every big city had a clan of idiots ready to welcome them with uneducated naïve open arms. Acting like ambassadors for the welcome wagon.

Actually, I wish I had a gun at this point. Feeling helpless made me feel, well, helpless, and now with Danny here, I felt even worse.

“Could you make me one too? I have got to go into the office in a few minutes. Are you gonna be ok here?” I asked, frantically looking for my keys.

“Yes and yes. I’m eighteen years old now, sis.”

“I know that but I’m still scared. Things are getting worse, more people are claiming to have seen them and I know it’s probably a farce but I can’t help it. This has been going on for months that we know about, who knows how long before that. Something is happening and despite was the Lefters say, it’s not global warming. Something. Is. Happening. I don’t think the world will ever be the same again. It’s just going to keep getting worse, not better.”

“You don’t know that. We have no idea what’s going on. I’ve never even seen one. Have you? No. Only hearsay. No one even has any pictures of them. I think it’s just some kinda phenomenon blown way outta proportion.”

“The moon missing is a phenomenon?” I countered, turning to face him akimbo.

“Yes. If the moon was really gone wouldn’t it affect us? The tides? Why hasn’t the earth skipped off into orbit because we were pulled off our rotational spin? Why hasn’t anything they predicted would happen happened yet? It’s freaky, I’ll grant you that but aliens? Come on college graduate, you can do better than that.”

“I never said that’s what I thought it was. I don’t know. I’m trying hard not to have an opinion.”

“Whatever. I’m hitching a ride with Jamie to work today. She’s gonna wear that button up shirt, not quite buttoned up all the way. I can feel it.”

Danny’s eyes glazed over like some idiot ogling cheerleaders at halftime as he spoke. I’d seen Jamie and, yes, that was exactly what she’d be wearing.

“Swine! I’m outta here. Be careful and please come straight home after work unless you call me and leave a message at home, ok?”

“Yep. You too. Wait, here’s your sandwich! You owe me a load of laundry for it.”

I rolled my eyes and grabbed it, hugged him swiftly, thankful for his good sense lately. Not in girls of course but the street smarts anyway. We always called if we were late, we always looked out for each other and always hugged before leaving. We’d already been abandoned by our parents, literally. They called one year ago and told me they were sending Danny to live with me and we’d hear from them soon. Just like that.

Pain in the butt, yes. Brother I love and would kill for, yes.

The office was buzzing, the fifth floor was a hopping place these past few months, loaded down with your plethora of different opinions of the happenings. We had them all and so far, aliens were winning out in the office pool. I refused to participate and was labeled along with the other Debbie Downers as uncooperative and would be the first to die if an alien invasion were to come.

“Comforting,” I would spout. “Who wants to live in a world that no longer belongs to you anyway?” Which in turn received rolled eyes and walk-a-ways. Mission accomplished.

The story for that day was a Goth teenage boy who had been mistakenly identified as a visitor and wanted to sue the city for discrimination, as he was embarrassingly hauled into a cop car outside of a pool hall and carted in for questioning. His argument, quote, ‘I should be able to walk around the city with my black clothes, spiked hair and guy liner and not have to worry about getting arrested.’

That was a valid point but still a ridiculous lawsuit. He was one of those looters that raid department stores after a natural catastrophe. He wasn’t actually stealing anything but, still trying to cash in on fame and wealth at a time of world crisis was the same thing in my book. He wasn’t special. In times of crisis not one should be counted special. Everyone was human therefore equal to the same misery and misfortune and good luck as everyone else. What happened to the whole ‘we gotta stick together’ motto? When hard times came-a-knocking, people baled on good sense and decency. If nothing else, I had learned that this past year.

With the story done, I headed back to my crumby hole in the wall apartment. I hadn’t heard from Danny at the office so I was assuming he was home already. I hadn’t heard from anyone lately. Matt hadn’t even called me in a while, meaning two days, a record for him.

When the news first started reporting on the visitors he had called or came by everyday, sometimes more than once, whining and crying about how he couldn’t die knowing how he’d hurt me, he needed me, wanted me, I needed him.