0.2

378 14 26
                                    

       "This time was different." Falice sat across from Michael at the dining room table. His dark skin has lines across it from falling asleep on the leather couch and he had a little bit of eggs in his chest hair from eating messily without a shirt on. Falice wore unicorn pajamas and her stuck out all over the place from holding onto her leg and writhing in pain all night.

     "What do you mean?" Michael scratched his beard with curiosity. "Gods. I swear I got second hand high from just being around you. I feel like shit."

      Falice giggled at him. "You don't feel like shit when you get high, Michael. Trust me. Must have been the rum you try to sneak into your coffee. And you drink a lot of coffee. I've noticed."

    Michael shook his head at her with a soft smile. "Must have been. Can we continue with our previous conversation? I'm getting embarrassed."

      Falice sighed and bit into her toast. The whole thing has been a bit surreal for her. Here she was doing normal things like eating eggs and toast, rebelling against her everyday authority figures (that would be Michael. She's homeschooled after all.),  and bonding with her "father." She lived a typical human life. Except she isn't typical, and she definitely isn't human. She is a Lorien. An alien. There are others, the Mogadorians, that lurk around ready to spill her blood. The only things that have kept them off of her tracks are the fact that they have to kill in numerical order and the special spray Michael invented to erase her scent. To humans she smells like green apples, but to the Mogs she smells perfectly human. It's like trying to find a needle in a needle stack. That's why she and Michael have been able to stay so long in Paradise, Ohio. It's been nearly fifteen years.

      Of course staying so long can be dangerous, so Michael kept them on the very outskirts of town where there's at least a mile in between neighbors. Falice has been homeschooled this entire time. The less people see them, the easier it is for them. Should they ever have to leave, Michael can just shave his head and beard and look like a whole new person. Falice couldn't exactly say the same. Mike had always told her "you're too pretty. Too noticeable." That's why she has to stay in the house most of the time.

       " I don't know, Mike. I was indescribable. The pain, I mean. It's like I actually felt their pain. And I saw it too. I saw how they died. I saw that Mog's ugly ass face too. I even smelled his nasty tuna breath. Never make tuna casserole ever again, by the way."
 
       Michael hummed in acknowledgement and looked up from his now empty plate. "What are you gonna call this one?"

      Falice wasted no time in thought. "Swimmin' with the fishes. Or maybe something simple like Toothpaste."

      Michael laughed. "Creative. Now go upstairs and get ready for school."
  
      Falice nearly choked on her orange juice. "Excuse me? You wanna repeat that?"

    "Oh didn't I tell you? I enrolled you to school. I started teaching you early just for this occasion. Things are changing and I wanted you to spend your senior year like a normal girl."

      Falice almost jumped for joy until she caught on to exactly what he said. "Things are changing. We're leaving soon? To finally find the others? And Sam's dad?"

     "So you remember Sam?" Michael asked while gathering their plates and dumping them in the sink. "I'll wash those when I feel like it," he mumbled to himself. He turned to Falice. "Yes. The time is finally nearing. I thought we had more time. I would've let you do a full year, hey at least it's still first semester. That'll have to do."

     Falice allowed a wide smile to take over her face. She was finally going to go to school like a normal person. Now she could feel one hundred percent like the humans she read about or saw on TV. Only a background character though, because main characters have way too much drama.

Scrap Metal [I Am Number Four]Where stories live. Discover now