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Voices by Jack Linton Thirty-five years ago, Jacob McLoy lost someone very dear to him. He longs to find her through the voic... [1,315 words]
My Message Of Caress by Jacqueline Anel Sheppard This story is about the depth of a daughter towards life and how her existance leads to he... [452 words]
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Night Of Living Hell by Paula M Shackleford This is a story I wrote a couple of years ago about a girl who is waiting outside the cine... [1,227 words]
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They Are Here
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Don't Bank On It by Paula M Shackleford This is the story of how a petty argument can develop into a full-scale war, when it comes to ... [3,766 words]

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TITLE (EDIT)
They Are Here
DESCRIPTION
They came through the windows last time. Why are they here? One woman's nightmare.

I am not a professional writer, so please be constructive with your criticism, I welcome it.
[610 words]
AUTHOR
Kate Kreutzer-Spath
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I am a hard working woman, who loves to read and write. I have many stories in my head, but no courage to let others read them, until now. I feel I have found an outlet. I hope I can get some good constructive criticism of my work. Thank you.
[May 2000]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
They Are Here
Kate Kreutzer-Spath

I panic. My heart is pounding. I'm, running around looking for a hammer and some nails to nail the windows shut. They came through the windows the last time. I'm running to the front desk hopelessly losing my breath.

"Do we have any nails and a hammer, they're here again" I stutter huffing and puffing to the desk clerk.

No one answers me. Everyone is standing around talking and don't seem to care much that they are here again. I run behind the desk and rummage through the drawers. I find the necessary tools. Running, I pass others in the hall and tell them that they are here. No one anywhere seems to care. It's as though no one can hear me. They obviously don't remember. I remember.

I attempt to nail down the windows. I turn and look and suddenly they're here. They had been here before, I know they had, but something deep in my mind just won't let me remember when, or why, but I do remember they were here, and they threatened to kill all of us if we got out of line. I remember that we had to stay behind a barrier of some sort. I don't remember any weapons, but I do remember several people died. I know that one gray haired gentleman friend came up to me and with a look of finality on his face, he kissed me tenderly on the cheek and gave me, what seemed to be, a farewell hug. I knew he was ill with a progressive disease, but he had several years left in him. Nevertheless, I knew this was his farewell to me. I don't remember what happened to him after that. Oh, my head hurts so! Why can't I remember? If only I could.

I do remember that some of us were allowed to leave the area we were restricted to, but only for a short time. It's the same this time.

A large woman with a ruddy complexion and a short man-like haircut in a gray jumpsuit type outfit told us that we were not allowed to talk to anyone or people would die. I said to her, "I know, I have been through this before, the last time you were here." No one spoke a word. No one followed us.

Now, we're getting on a bus, no, we're getting off a bus. Where did we go? Maybe to get supplies, some people are carrying packages. No one is smiling or laughing or even talking. Everyone seems to be zombie like, but suddenly we are back. The other people get off the bus with their arms loaded with packages. Still no one says a word.

I have my husband with me this time. He will protect me. I explain to him what is happening and to pretend not to know anything is wrong. He doesn't say anything either. No one notices that he came back with us. They are all around the place, but we can't tell who they are, where they are, or even why they are. We just know they are watching our every move and waiting for us to slip up. I do remember the last time they were here and saying to myself that I wasn't going to allow this to happen again. I was going to get help and warn the authorities. I can't remember if I did when we were out this time.

There is so much tension. We stop and look around for them. Then I wake up.

Yeah! Yeah! I took the stupid muscle relaxer, but it didn't seem to do any good.
This is a dream I had a few nights ago.



 

READER'S REVIEWS (2)
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"hey mom,that was unbelievable!!!! i couldnt wait to get to the end and find out what was going on.you should write a book and have it published,you are amazingly talented mom.please write somemore,i love those kinds of stories." -- Tracie, tampa, florida, usa.
"Great story. Where can I get some of that stuff? Do you have these often?" -- Tom, FL, USA.

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2000 Kate Kreutzer-Spath
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
May 2000
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
2052
 

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