I sat in the corner of the room, a letter sitting in my hands. Slowly, one-by-one, tears dropped from my blue eyes, making strands of my black hair stick to my cheeks. The salty water drops quickly soiled the paper, not that I cared at the moment. Briefly, a flash of the memory came rushing back into my mind. The guards rushing in, the haunting, expressionless faces, the way they grabbed Dominic away from me, then pulling him out the door, away from me. Just by thinking about even the minor details made me start bawling again. I was a terrible mother, the worst possibly. I punched myself mentally. I should’ve fought back, should’ve let them take me instead of him. Almost to reassure myself that I hadn’t dreamed up this horrific nightmare, I read the letter once again.

Dear Mrs. Tyler,

We are not-so-sorry to inform you that we are taking your son away to be in the front line in the war with the Meekrob. As you probably know, no one without years of training and experience can live in the front line. Especially if that person is an eleven year old boy. Sucks to be you. You shouldn’t have run away from your deactivation. Well, have a horrific life without your son.



The words, so cruel and heartless. They’re always trying to hurt me. They’ve done almost everything, but this is the worst yet, probably ever. Sobs aroused from my mouth again.  I’ll never have another child, I promised myself. They’ll just end up getting killed, or worse. The sobs kept coming, unable to control them. Why did life have to be so cruel? I should’ve never escaped my deactivation, never should’ve come to Earth, never should’ve found love, and never should’ve had a child. Then, I wouldn’t be harming anyone. Jon wouldn’t have to deal with an emotionally unstable Irken, and the Earth wouldn’t have to deal with having another insane being to use up all its precious natural materials. I was a nuisance. It was my entire fault that Dominic was going to die. My entire fault.

Not being able to take anymore, I reached up onto the end table, grabbing a lighter. I took a chunk of my hair and slowly brought it up to the lighter flame, watching it catch fire. Now I would die a slow and painful death that Dominic surely would. As the small flame slowly receded up my black hair, I chuckled slightly. Not because that I found any part of this funny, or because I was enjoying this, but because that I was finally going to be at rest, finally free of the harsh twists of fate.

Before I even knew what was going on, my flame was out, and I was being pulled upward. Jesus? was the first thought that came to mind. The hands were soft and strong, just what I expected, but it was familiar. It wasn’t until arms wrapped around me that I realized that I was not being brought up to Heaven by Jesus, but being hugged by Jon. I was crumbled up in his arms, now sobbing. “What happened?” he asked his voice quiet, but stern and commanding. I didn’t know where to begin, or how to begin. I took in a large gulp of air, my throat sticky from the sobbing. “They came, and…. Dominic, they… I tried, I did, I really did, but…” I paused, feeling another strong bout of tears coming. “It’s all my fault. …All my fault…” “Who are ‘They’? What happened to Dominic?” Jon asked, confused at first, but as he looked around the house, noticing for the first time, the wreckage and the debris scattered around the living room and the front yard. That’s when he got an idea on what happened. I let out another sob as he pulled me closer, tightening his grip on me, making me choke more sobs. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered. “It’ll be okay…”


I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Midnight had come and long gone, but I was still fully awake. I turned my head to the direction of Jon, who was lying on the other side of the bed, seaming sound asleep. I sighed softly, pushing the covers off of me, quietly, before crawling out of bed. Unprepared for the sudden chill, I shivered, hugging myself for warmth.

I walked over to the closet, pushing the clothes out of the way, revealing my lab. I entered it, walking to my destination. A large test tube, containing a smeet. He was almost ready to be born. I programed him to have my black hair, and my alien eyes, Jon’s light complexion, and antennae. I didn’t want him to have brown hair. It would remind me too much of Dominic, and seeing Jon’s hair was painful enough. Suddenly, a hand touched my shoulder, causing me to jump, startled. I turned around, seeing Jon standing there, a concerned look on his face. “You need to get to sleep,” he told me, his voice serious. I turned back to the unborn smeet. “I can’t. What if Brayden needs me?” I asked, messing with some of the dials on the dashboard in front of me. Jon grabbed my shoulder again, this time with much more force, and turned me so I was looking him in the eye. “Listen to me, Liz,” he was extremely serious. “It’s been four years. You have to let go, and realize that it wasn’t your fault.” I shrugged, “I’m having another child… I trust myself that much.” I muttered. “Yeah, but you’re not moving on.” I stayed quiet. “Dominic would want you to move on.” I sighed, and nodded, knowing that he was right. “Okay…” I said, trying to accept the fact that my son actually was gone forever. “Now, you need to get to sleep,” Jon said, touching my back slightly, motioning me to start walking back to the bedroom. I nodded in agreement, and started walking, trying to lift the pain in my heart.

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