JOE  

It was long time ago, but to this day I still ask why? I was there young, but scared. I told my dad David , but if he didn’t believe me. If my own dad didn’t who will?

A fresh start ,a new leaf they say ,  me and my dad now reside in London , Southwark , near the waterloo station. Here in England its really cold compared to the States. When we were living there dad worked for the army . I’m proud of him and one day I wish to portray his bravery . He tells me stories about when he was in Afghanistan with his friend Joe . Joe died  in the war , he was dads best mate , tragically when he had passed on my dad was never the same. Joe came to our house once. From our meeting I could tell he was a good man. I caught a glimpse of him , I wasn’t let in the room because dad didn’t want me to get mixed with the army environment. He said one day I would like you to become a lawyer or a successful businessman. I acknowledge it but never put any thought into it . Maybe I will. You never know.

Joe had a minor amount of hair , in fact he was bald. They watched a football match on the TV . I was peeking down the stairs waiting for Joe to come out so I could see what he looked like. He came out. Tall, but skinny. I didn’t see anymore because dad blocked my vision by standing in front . I thought after 7 years dad would eventually let it go , but Joe remained in the soft heart of my dad . It was Monday so I had to go to school , I attend the London Nautical school , the only nautical school in England .

My dad works from home , pretty cool I guess but it does mean he is a bit unsocial. He specialises in the ‘financial industry’ or that’s what he tells me . Anyways I went to school had a normal day , Maths. English. Science. No homework, which is a plus. That’s all ordinary but what wasn’t was what occurred on my way home , about 5 minutes away. I saw. Almost identical, but how? The thoughts scurrying through my head were bizarre. Joe. How could it be: He’s dead right?

I thought to myself that I was sick , maybe lack of sleep. But it keeps circling to the fact that I saw a dead man, a man who is no longer alive. How is this even possible. My dad said to me that he was gone for good as in he had passed one , but why was he there? It makes no sense to me. Why in our new home in England ? I tried to reassure myself, but it just didn’t work. It was almost as if I had a certainty. I bolted down the stairs and asked my dad if Joe really did die. He snapped and exclaimed “Why are you bringing up a dead man in my presence!” I left the room. I believed him. Joe died in the war

I looked in the mirror and relief looked back . it must of been a lookalike . Delight shone on my face . I felt like a heap of pressure had come me, like the pressure to solve a mystery. But there was no mystery, just a bald skinny lookalike. On that night I plummeted onto the bed . I was still , with my eyes shut almost as if I was deceased . Then I thought about Joe. It felt like tears were streaming down my face but I was too tired to tell. I fell asleep pondering what life would be like with my dad’s best friend Joe was here.

Awoken by something of the unknown , I glanced at my alarm clock and it read 5:55 am. Too early to be awake I thought to myself. I  tossed and turned until I got into a comfortable position , as my eyelids shut , I heard a slithering noise. I was clueless to where it was originating from . So I opened my door and boomeranged up and down the stairs. But I heard nothing. Silence. Whatever it was, It was gone.

In the morning I went to school, deeply hazed from yesterdays ominous awakening . I just about got through the day and I headed home, I passed a guy on the street and the same slithering noise reoccurred. I stopped walking and so did he. The noise stopped. I worked it out that it was coming from the guy behind me. What sort of human makes a slithering noise when they walk I questioned myself . But then I knew. That was Joe , but he wasn’t a human he was an alien. I tried to run away but I couldn’t , I fainted.