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                There was a tv show that said, “Humans are extraordinary creatures. You attack them and they fight back.” When the aliens came they did not openly attack us. It wasn’t until the disappearances that we, the humans, became unwary and violent.

                They made no grand entrance and no warning. You simply looked out your window and there they were. Ships, like classic flying saucers, hovering over the cities, all over the world. With them they brought a massive world wide power outage. It was as if the ships were leeching the electricity. Generators and power plants were operating. Solar panels gathered and windmills turned, but the entire Earth was clothed in primitive darkness. In the information blackout, the world quickly became chaos.

                I was no one of importance, and my house was not of any more importance than I, but my home was chosen. A ship hovered just over it and I could see part of it from my bedroom window. I was terrified and wanted to leave, but I wasn’t sure if it was safer in my own bedroom or out in the open. A creature appeared in my living room. It looked like every classic ‘gray’ I’d ever seen. Gray skin, big black eyes, no mouth, a nose and an enlarged head. I couldn’t see any ears. When it spoke it was into my mind.

                We come in peace.

                I didn’t feel any more relaxed. It wore no clothing and its long fingered hands were empty. Still I was frightened of it and back away.

                We apologize for turning your world dark. Our ships are inadvertantly taking your energy. Until we can repair this malfunction we would like to speak with all the armed guards of your planet.

                After this speech I was suddenly grateful I lacked a gun, my most dangerous weapon was a kitchen knife, or maybe my own mouth.

                The guards of the planet will please come to certain structures within each social dwelling.

                I watched it and it watched me. It pointed a finger at the window behind me. I turned and looked almost not of my own volition. Coming down the street were police officers and the mayor. They marched, carrying their guns. Joining them were my neighbors, those who had served in any military capacity, regardless of age. Old Man Jenkins was on his walker, a gun that most likely belonged in a museum, slung over his back. Wives, husbands, children were chasing after them, begging them not to go. The unarmed people stopped at my property line. It was like they had come to a barrier.

                The parade turned into my driveway. My garage door opened, they entered. My home door opened and they entered one by one into my living room. I knew these people. Some were my neighbors, some were my friends, others I’d gone to school with. They all had a blank look in their eyes, and all carried their guns in their hands. I reached out and touched the sleeve of a man I knew intimately. He turned and looked at me, looked through me. A tear slipped from the corner of his eye and dribbled down his cheek. The gray alien began to walk through my house, he went up to the second floor and up to the third. The people followed it.

                “Ryan?” I asked as the police officer turned to go with the others. I chased after him. “Ryan!” He didn’t turn to look at me. I snatched at his arm. He shrugged me off. “Ryan, please! You can’t!” This time he did turn to look at me. Yet the brown eyes were focused somewhere behind me. His face was wet with tears, but it was blank. Not angry, not sad, the eyes were reddened from the crying. I glanced at the others, many others were crying as silently and as emotionless as my police officer.

                “They are calling us to negotiate peace,” the voice was robotic, it was Ryan’s voice but flat, almost dead of emotion. I had such a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ryan had stopped but the others were moving past him. At the base of the stairs were two of the gray aliens. As the men and women moved past them to the third floor they discarded their weapons. Shotguns, rifles, pistols, began to pile up on either side. Ryan began to move forward again. I tugged on his wrist that I still had ahold of. It was like trying to pull a tank. He jerked free of me. I chased after him again.

                One of the gray men held up a hand and I stopped. It was like everything shut off, as if they had found my power switch and flicked it. Somethings still worked, I could see, I could breathe and I could feel. Only I could not control any of my body. I could not run after Ryan Patrick, the man I loved. I could not shout his name. I could only feel inside the unbelieveable ache that he was going to his doom. Tears fell from my own eyes and I could not wipe them away, could not even blink. Now I understood why they had been crying. Anyone in our town with any military training or a gun was going up to my third floor against their will. My heart wanted to pound in my chest but it beat regularly, I wanted to throw up, but my stomach stayed still. I stood there and watched as the men and women, even some teenagers walked up the stairs. Randomly I thought that my third floor couldn’t hold that many people.

                Once the last of the people had walked up my stairs. I was released. The gray men vanished. I fell to my knees exhausted, but with aching muscles I climbed the stairs. I had to see. I wanted to see before all the people outside came rushing in looking for their own loved ones. At the top of the stairs I did throw up. I dry heaved until my ribs were studded with sharp pains. My third floor was no more than a finsihed attic. I’d made it a tv room and in the middle was a mountain of glitter. I reached out and picked up a watch. There were hearing aids, belt buckles, pins, wires, teeth, buttons, and badges. It was a pile of everything everyone had had that was metal or plastic. Sticking out near the bottom was a police officer’s badge. It was Ryan’s. The aliens had killed him only because he was a police officer, because he carried a gun. I clutched the badge to my chest. I wanted to kill the little gray bastards but how could I even attack a creature that could simply turn me off and reduce me to a pile of teeth fillings, glasses and jewelry?

 

Author’s Note:

                That was all I dreamed but the concept has potential. Aliens able to control all of us except our tears. I may add some more at a later date.

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