rix_scaedu (rix_scaedu) wrote,
rix_scaedu
rix_scaedu

What A Difference A Month Can Make

I wrote this to kay_brooke's prompt request and it comes in at 598 words.


At the beginning of this month I was a perfectly normal, early 50-something woman. I was not, as I have since explained in rather more detail than I would have preferred, a virgin. My parents were hale but elderly, and if I wasn’t as close to them as I would have liked, well we were still on speaking terms – even if I did think they’d always favoured my siblings. My occasional feelings that my mother had sabotaged all my romantic relationships I put down to short lived feelings of depression, paranoia or even resentment that she’d seen what those romantic interests were like better than I had; after all, my siblings and even my older nieces and nephews were married so it wasn’t as if she was against us getting married and having children of our own. It was a pity too that I wasn’t closer to my siblings, but we’d always had different interests.

Then came the raid in the night. I was dragged out of my home in the dark by masked men in black, shackled, shoved into the back of a van with armed guards and driven away. It was all so quick and eerily quiet that I doubt it even woke my neighbours.

I was talked at for hours, I think they were asking questions, in a language I didn’t understand until finally someone started talking to me in English.

“Where were you born, Miss Carlisle?” To me he had a neutral received accent.

“North Sydney.” I couldn’t see why that was relevant.

“Where were your parents born?”

I had to think about it and then say slowly, “I don’t know.”

“Would it surprise you if I told you that neither you nor they are human?”

“What!?” I looked at him as if he were mad, because I thought he must be.”

“Your parents are interdimensional infiltrators sent to prepare the way for an alien invasion force.”

“If this is your idea of a joke, I’m afraid I don’t think this is funny.”

“Oh, it’s not a joke, Miss Carlisle. We’ve had our eye on your parents and siblings for some time, and I think you need to see a recording of the interview we had with one of your nephews.”

I didn’t get a choice. They just wheeled in the screen and started their recording playing.

The interview with Cory was just the start but he, at least, seemed to care about me while the rest were dismissive or detached. According to them all, including my parents, I’d been born so I could be sacrificed to open the portal that would let their army into this world. One of my parents’ children had to be used and they’d chosen me to the extent that they’d conceived me for this express purpose. Oh. and one of my parents had to hold the knife that did the deed. None of my family seemed to have a problem with that, even Cory. He’d just thought that I deserved to know.

My parents had even made sure that I’d stayed single and childless so that no-one would care enough to thwart them.

I’ll never see my parents or, to be on the safe side, any other member of my family ever again. My family will never know where I am, and the authorities are moving me to another continent just to make to make sure.

In the space of a month, my whole world has changed, and I’m concerned. My family gave up far too much information, far too easily. I think they’re still up to something.



Tags: lucy carlisle
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