Marcus

The rushing force of wind was making my car sway side to side; it was idiotic to even be on the road at a time like this. I pulled up next to a small building and struggled to open my car door, the wind using every ounce of its energy against me. I glance down the street to see the horrific sight that was burned into my memory forever. Thousands of people were running my way, screaming and the ones in the back being swept up into the vast tower of wind behind them.

It turned slowly to display the thousands of people rotating in the gusts hundreds of feet off the ground. The police lights on the top of my car abruptly flew off the car. A beam shot down from the heavens above and the green light made everything around the same glowing green. People that were running started to be pulled into the tornado quickly by smaller beams of green light.

Suddenly the tornado vanished to reveal a large, extraterrestrial looking ship in the shape of an upside-down pyramid. The beams of light began to get closer and I look to my right to see a dumpster in an alley. I ducked into the alley as quick as possible and get in the trash can as quickly as possible. I peeked out a small hole to see the alley way and the huge ship slowly float by. I peer over to see a small boy huddled behind a box at the front of the alley way. I have such an anticipation to run out and grab him but the fear of being seen by the alien ship frightens me too much.

Avitt

I heard a weird droning, hum as the giant thing passed the alley I was in.  It felt like forever until the ship passed. I sat still covering my head, hoping nothing saw me. I heard a small bang come from the back of the alley. I peek out from under my arm and see a dumpster. The fear built up inside of me and I crawled toward the dumpster. I don’t know what was making me go near it, but I felt like I had to know. When I got right next to it, I peered through a small hole in the side of the garbage bin and saw a man huddled against the back of the bin. I knocked quietly and he jumped at the noise.

“Shhhhh! Be quiet,” I whispered. “We don’t want that huge thing noticing us.” I asked him if he could open up the top and help me in. The man lifted the lid and the first thing I saw was his police badge, the gun and other weapons attached to his belt. I tried to make it obvious that I wasn’t staring but he probably had noticed.

“I’m Officer Gage, but you can call me Marcus.” The cop had said. He was a well built man, probably in his mid twenties. Average length brown hair and a strong jaw line. He didn’t seem intimidating at all.

“My name is Avitt.” I sat down on the other side from him and stared at the pitch black box we were in.

“Where did you come from, kid?” Marcus said to me.

I’d rather not tell Marcus my life story. I had lived on the streets; nowhere to go, and no one to turn to for help. My parents died in a car crash a few years back, an earthquake had torn a huge fissure in the road and their car just happened to be the one that fell in. They were the only family that I had and known of, so I just lived in our apartment and worked a job to try and pay the rent. The money just wasn’t flowing as well and I couldn’t pay the rent, so I was forced to leave. I got fired from my job because I stopped showing up on time, so I was off to find a job somewhere else.

One day I was sitting in the park drawing someone from afar, capturing every nook in their face, the dimples beside their mouth. Each hair as it stood up or went left or right. Someone had then tapped me on the shoulder. It was an old man, and he asked me what I was doing.

“Just sketching,” I had said.

“Well if that’s a sketch, then I can’t imagine how the real thing looks.” He was astonished at my drawing skills. The man introduced himself as Seth Jameson, and he wanted me to work for him and his art company. I agreed, and he offered me an apartment and a car. Apparently he was some millionaire who had made a certain product years ago and is still making money for it. I’ve also been making money ever since he took me under his wing for art.

“The city,” was all I said. Marcus and I had been sitting in this dumpster for over an hour now. We could hear the crashing and burning of buildings and towers, crumpling to the ground due to the alien ship’s path of destruction. Marcus was pouring sweat and it was obvious he was claustrophobic.

His fingers were twitching repeatedly and he clenched and unclenched his fists. Marcus kept pulling his shirt collar away from his neck as if he were being restrained.